Of Elves and Humans: Volume One

by Merilsell

Summary:

Trust is a delicate flower that needs to get nurtured and time to grow. Even more so love. A tale of two disparate Wardens forced together, of finding a way to overcome the distrust, and their own painful past in the time of the Blight. F!Mahariel/Alistair.

Now newly parted in different volumes for a better readability :)

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Volume One contains Lenya Mahariel's first reluctant steps outside the safe boundaries of her clan into a foreign world of humans, she hates more than anything. She never wanted to become a Warden, but Duncan left her no choice. Bitter by the force of fate and by having lost everything Lenya once hold dear, she is all but an easy person to deal with. Nevertheless she needs to cope with the guilt of surviving to be able to face new, bigger than life responsibilities, as the plans in Ostagar went more than awry. To be able to survive, Lenya needs to team up with her only remaining fellow Warden. A human, of all people.

Chapter 1: Prologue: Regrets

Notes:

A/N: This will be more than just a simple retelling. I'll (try to) give the Dalish origin and Warden more substance and depth with lots of added scenes, fresh dialogue (next to none from the game) and delving deeper into their culture.

My Mahariel PC Lenya may not be your typical, sweet Warden. She is very bitter by her loss everything she had known and doesn't shy away from showing it, and her dislike of humans. But there are of course far more sides to her character than shown in the first, and she will change in her own way as the story progress. I like to take things slow but steady, no matter if it is character development, or the relationships to each character. It all makes it more realistic, imo.

So bottom line: this is going to be a truly long series. This is Volume 1. See the series notes for the other parts.

All disclaimer applies of course.

 

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*~Home is behind
The world ahead
And there are many paths to tread
Through shadow
To the edge of night
Until the stars are all alight...~*
- Pippin; LotR, Return of the king

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OF ELVES AND HUMANS: VOLUME 1

Prologue: Regrets

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"Keeper, don't send me away, I beg you!"

"You know that it kills me to do this, da'len, but I don't have another choice. It would hurt me more to see you succumbing to the disease, to have you slowly dying without the chance to help you."

"No, I will rather die...than to leave! My clan is all I know! Please, don't do this!"

"Do what you must, Duncan."

"I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription."

"And I, as the Keeper of this clan, acknowledge this Right."

"Nooo! Ar din'him sa dorf'len! Ar din'isala ven shem'alas!"

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Lenya stared into the crackling fire before her, observing how the flames were vigorously dancing within its red-yellow light. Shortly she had to suppress the urge to let herself fall into it, the sadness within too overwhelming.

Her head tilted up to the black, starlit sky, letting the blond strands of her hair fall over her back, where she still had both of her Dar'Misu daggers sheathed. She had stopped to count how often she had thought about to draw them and fight her way out of this camp, and back to her clan.

It was a futile thought in her desperation, she knew, one that would gain her nothing but maybe a fleeting moment of freedom. Her clan had already moved on to the north, to leave this lands behind, to find shelter from the Blight. Not to mention that within her raged a strange disease, which would ultimately lead to her own death. Even the magic of her Keeper couldn't fully save her, so the choices she had left were feeble.

"Abalas," Lenya quietly sighed under her breath and pulled her knees closer to her, embracing them. The surroundings of the camp were still, only the chirping of cascades and the faint 'uhuu' of an owl were audible. They were the sounds of the night that she was used to hearing, and normally loved while sleeping under the blanket of the sky. Tonight, however, they only added more to the sadness -and anger- she felt within.

Right of conscription? Since when does his pesky rules apply to our people?

Wasn't the Blight the problem of the shemlen? Why should she care at all?

Although the thought of jumping into the flames has been quite tempting only moments before to the young elf, she didn't want to die just yet. Death was normally something natural to her tribe. A given circle of nature they'd learned to live with, to respect. Nonetheless, she didn't want to die an unnatural death, due to her contact with a strange, tainted mirror in an old ruin.

If only I...we had never found this cave, none of this would have happened.

Feelings of remorse rolled over her like a tidal wave. Lenya had never been the most dutiful Dalish, often tested the patience of her clan with her shenanigans. But this one time she wished, really wished that she would have listened to Tamlen and would have gone back to the Keeper, instead straight to the cave.

Tamlen...

Lenya's gaze wandered down to her knees as she wistfully twirled the thin, fine silver necklace between her fingers and eventually observed the oval-shaped silver amulet hanging from it. The white ornaments of a Halla were engraved in the ironbark, skilfully crafted with the old lore of her people. It was the amulet Tamlen had given to her, after she had undergone Vallaslin, the ritual of blood-writing which marked the end of childhood for her, only four moons ago.

Since that time she has a black-inked tribal tattoo on her forehead, intricate, fine lines whirling together, ending on the tip of her nose. This was what made and marked her as a Dalish for anyone to see. Proud and unyielding. Newer submit.

Tamlen...the features of her face contorted to a mask of pain at the thought on him. Tears welled up within her eyes, blurring the sight of amulet before her. "How could you touch the mirror? Why did this all happened? Why?"

Duncan kneeled down beside Lenya, who hadn't noticed him until he raised his voice. "I'm sorry. As little as it means to you."

Lenya didn't turned around to the shemlen she come to loathe so quickly in the last hours. She completely ignored his presence and continued to stare into the fire before her.

"You know there was no other choice but to leave your friend behind, don't you? Otherwise you would be dead by now as well."

Something snapped in Lenya as she turned around with a growl. She faced the elder man, her eyes blazing with anger. "So what? I didn't ask you to help me! I didn't ask you to rip me away from my life, from my people!" she screamed, hate clear in her green eyes. "If you and your stupid Grey Wardens hadn't brought those creatures to our lands, none of it would have happened!"

And Tamlen would be still alive...

After a moment of glaring at him, she huffed and added spitefully, "I hate you." With her breath still ragged, she turned around to start a staring contest with the flames once more.

"I didn't bring the darkspawn there. The Blight has come, and we are just the one who are fighting them," he explained calmly, well knowing that she tried to project the responsibility for her fate on him. "Normally the darkspawn remain hidden under the surface, but in times of the Blight, they leave the soil and swarm the land. That is why they appeared in the woods and those old ruins."

Lenya rolled her eyes. "And this should interest me because…?"

"Because you will be a Grey Warden soon..." He sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, you have quite the temper, my lady. If you use half of the energy of screaming and biting for fighting darkspawn instead, you are good to go."

"Biting?" she asked innocently, one of her eyebrows curving upwards. When he turned away, Lenya threw a stolen glance over to Duncan, seeing dark-red teeth marks engraved in the flesh of his both arms. Obviously she had tried everything to stay with her clan, while Duncan did everything to pull her away. Unfortunately the tall, strong and stupid shemlen has won because there she sat, in his camp. Somewhere out in the middle of nowhere.

Yet those tiny marks of teeth visible on his arms lightened her mood up for a moment, making her even smile for a blink of an eye. At least she had tried, she had fought and this was still visible now, even after all those hours.

"Yes, biting. In fairness, you have a natural talent as a Rogue, and you wield your daggers skilfully. With a little more training you should be able to wield swords the same way. Though I think when fighting Darkspawn, you should omit the biting part. They don't taste good, I have been told."

"Shemlen's tasting awful as well."

Duncan laughed. "Good, then we agree on letting the biting out in the future."

Lenya threw him a glare. " I haven't agreed on anything, human."

The Grey warden leader held her gaze and became serious, the tone in his voice authoritative. "You don't have to. You don't even have to like me. I don't demand that from you. But what I demand is that you listen on what I have to say. Even if you didn't want it, I saved your life, and becoming a Grey Warden is your only chance at living that you have. You are already tainted, and if you don't undergo the Joining ritual, you will change into something more horrible than you can ever imagine. Don't forget that."

The elf let a displeased growl out but didn't say anything in return. As much she hated to admit, that Grey Warden was right; without joining and becoming a Grey Warden herself, she would die. Or even worse. She sighed in resignation.

"Alright, I…understand," Lenya said meekly, while she kept her fists pressed together in frustration.

Duncan smiled, pleased. For hours he tried to talk some sense into that stubborn head of hers but had no such luck, so he was glad that he had finally reached her. Or so it seemed. "Good. Now have a little rest; it has been a long day, and tomorrow there will be another. We are going straight to Ostagar, to join the King there for the battle."

Duncan stood up and retreated to his tent, and as his gaze fell to the bite marks on his arms, he shook his head incredulously. Rarely did he see such a sturdy, proud and perturbing person as the elf. Then again, he hadn't got many recruits from the Dalish tribe so far. He just hoped that it was a good idea to take her with him at all.

When Duncan was finally gone, Lenya decided to go on with her sulking. Somewhere deep inside she began to understand that even if unwanted, tomorrow, when the sun would rise, a whole new world and life would be waiting for her. She had no idea where Ostagar was, nor what it meant to be a Grey Warden and a huge part of her didn't want to know and didn't care.

After several moments of blankly staring into the flames, she felt her eyelids grow heavier due the comfortable warmness of the fire radiating to her body, lulling her slowly into sleep. It had been a long day and although the young elf wished for the night to never end, she couldn't help but to lie herself down on the grass. Before sleep took Lenya away to the Fade, one positive thought about the traveling to Ostagar crossed her mind;

At least the battle there would mean killing a lot of Darkspawn, and Lenya had a lot to payback to those pesky creatures, after all.

.

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The sun wasn't even up when they continued their walk from the previous night.

The weak light of the approaching dawn barely illuminated the path enough to see anything but rough contours. Not that Lenya cared for the scenery around her; she was too busy keeping up with the fast pace of the shem Warden. As a rogue, she was used to fast and fluently movements. She had trained that, since she had been a small child. Yet after an arduous night she found herself more stumbling than walking.

"Stupid long legs," Lenya muttered frustrated to herself, as she fell for the umpteenth time, so that Duncan had to stop. The Grey Warden leader turned around, giving the Dalish elf some time to catch up with him.

"I know that your night was rather unpleasant, but we have to keep moving to reach Ostagar before nightfall. The King and the other Grey Wardens there are waiting for my...our return."

Lenya was finally standing before him and blinked, bewildered by his words. How does he know that I had nightmares? Ugh,...was he watching me in my sleep?

Duncan sensed her discomfort and let out a short bark of laughter. "Don't give me that look, young lady. After I took a short rest, I held vigil for the rest of the night. These are dangerous times and although I'm able to sense Darkspawn, I don't want them to surprise us in our sleep. However, it wasn't hard to overlook how you tossed and turned all night by the fire. You even spoke in your sleep. Tamlen was the name of your friend, I suppose?"

Oh. So that's how he was able to know.

Hearing the name of her childhood friend, the expression on Lenya's face immediately shifted from confusion to a frown. "I...I rather not want to talk about it…" Fewest with you, she added in mind.

Tamlen...Lenya's chest seemed to tighten painfully at the mere thought of him. She knew why she dreamed about him. She had abandoned him and left him behind to save herself. Had been forced to do so. She glared at the shemlen's back. He had been the one who made her stop searching for him, although even her own clan told her the search was futile. How could they do such a thing? Why didn't they searched more? Why did they forsake him so easily?

Lenya knew that she should have tried harder to find him, instead she gave up and ran away to save her own life now. She felt selfish for not wanting to die, whereas Tamlen had not been so lucky.

"Coward! You're damn coward!" she murmured at herself, gritting her teeth together.

She had to bite down the tears that urged to come up, but the bitter taste of guilt lingered in her mouth, no matter how hard she tried to swallow it or push it aside. He was haunting her dreams and she deserved it after all. Being so wrapped up in her heavy thoughts, She hasn't even noticed that Duncan has moved on.

"I see. "Duncan said, putting her out of her thoughts. "The sooner you leave your old life behind, the better it will be for you. The Grey Wardens should be all that counts for you now." Not pausing to see her reaction to his words, he sped up his steps again, leaving Lenya no choice but to hurry as well.

The rest of the march to Ostagar was over rocky, unstable ground and through the deep, foul-smelling swamps of the Korcari Wilds. Lenya and Duncan spent the whole of the walk in an awkward silence. He had at least one likable trait, she noticed. He didn't talk much or inquired her to talk about her feelings, when all what she wanted was to forget. What had happened to Tamlen. That she had been ripped away from all that she had ever known, thrown out in a world that was nothing more than foreign and cold to her.

It made it easier to focus on the walking, easier to bear what would come. At least for the moment.

As the sun stood high up in the sky and burned down on them, Lenya lost track of how long they'd been marching. She didn't know how much farther they had to go or where they even were.

Everything around them looked exactly the same; a puddle full of stinky water, a tree, then another puddle full of stinky water, another tree, then a - Ugh. Walking across those lands was a complete dull task. Lenya missed the beauty of her woods. How the fresh air whirled the leafs up and caressed her hair when she run with the wind, hunting for her clan.

This here was nature as well, but it was different, so cold and void of any life. Lenya couldn't help but to exclaim in joy when she saw how one single frog hopped across her path. Afterward she felt stupid for it, but at least it was another occupation than to glare hatefully at the back of that Warden's shiny armour, wishing he would instantly drop dead from her stare.

It hasn't worked anyway until now, and slowly she gave up hope that it would ever do.

 

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Elvish note:

Ar din'him sa dorf'len! Ar din'isala ven shem'alas! - I don't want to become a Grey Warden. I don't want to go with this filthy human.

 

Chapter 2: Refusal

A/N: I do not aim to please with Lenya. She is impatient, tends to use violence rather quickly, blunt, sturdy, somewhat racist, grumpy, calculating and right now a downward bitter, confused person ...but she is/will be learning. Changing in time, that is. If you search for a cuddly, sweet Dalish girl this may not be the story for you.

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Chapter 1: Refusal

Lenya never thought that she would ever be glad to see a camp full of humans, but when they eventually reached Ostagar, she was.

Due to the non-stop marching of the Grey Warden leader, they ended up reaching the ruins ahead of the planned time. They had planned to be there before nightfall, but as they trudged into camp, the sun was still up. Its light covered the whole area in a blood-red gleam. Lenya stopped before a huge bridge to bend down, trying to stable her ragged breathing. She was utterly exhausted and could hear her heart beating furiously in her ears.

As Lenya rose, her cheeks were still glowing from the exhaustion, though her breathing had slowed slightly. Her eyes flitted from one site to another and she was completely overwhelmed by the scenery before her. Everything was so huge; the Dalish elf had never seen such massive buildings before. The white bricks of the stone wall were partly broken and scattered in pieces all over the area, yet still towering high up into the sky. The bridge before her seemed to be endless, reaching far beyond her sight. She let her eyes wander for a few moments, admiring the scenery.

After the first excitement had abated again, she felt how the tiredness returned to her system, causing every muscle within her to burn and ache. Abalas, I would trade a complete herd of Halla for a bedroll or floor now.

Duncan, who had been engaged in a talk with another man until now, returned to her. "I will meet the king now and I want you to accompany me."

Lenya made no effort to hide her displeasure. "Why would I want to meet the king of the Shemlen?" she asked, tapping her fingers against her arm in irritation.

The Grey Warden leader heaved a long, exasperated sigh."Because I say so."

"Oh of course. And then I will wash your clothes and polish your armour, just like a good, obedient elf like me should do for a human," Lenya remarked in a sarcastic sing song, her green eyes flashing at the tall man before her.

Duncan was actually speechless for a moment at the boldness of her disrespect for him.

He felt the patience he held up for her situation and person in general slowly fading away and getting replaced by anger. He tried to keep those feelings at bay, so they wouldn't cloud his words, but this elf was making it really hard. The Warden leader took a deep breath before he spoke, his tone sharp and adamant.

"Listen. First of all, you are a recruit of the Grey Warden now. Not an elf, dwarf or human. No social standards or titles are important anymore. Duty is all that counts to us. And we have the duty to fight the darkspawn. To end the Blight at all costs. So you will come with me, that you will see and understand what will be at stake in the following battle. You must understand that if we fail to win, Ferelden will get even more flooded by those creatures and will eventually perish. There will be no land existing for your people to travel to."

His voice rose to a even louder tone, staring at her. "Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

Her eyelids fluttered rapidly as she stared at him in shock. Had she had crossed a line here, perhaps, that she wasn't allowed to cross? "Y-yes, you have," she stammered. "Then let us go to stupid shemlen king, so I can finally rest. I'm tired."

Lenya walked past Duncan, a small smile curving around her lips. Just because she was playing by their rules didn't mean she had to be nice...

Duncan stared dumbfounded at her retreating back. As Ferelden's Commander of the Grey, he was very experienced with dealing all kind of people and characters, but that Dalish was testing his patience once again. Her behavior was indeed unnerving him, despite of the fact of her probably not knowing better.

On the other side, maybe this reckless and blatant demeanor would bring her far as a Grey Warden, if she was willing to face the hardship resulting from it. Duncan only hoped that he could trust his normally reliable instincts this time as well, and that the elf would bring more than just a permanent headache.

They walked past the massive and long stone bridge, through the main camp until they had reached an entrance framed by scattered, white brick-stone pillars, towering in the sky.

Remnants of some Shem ruins, Lenya guessed.

A tall, blonde Shem come to them and greeted the elder Warden quite enthusiastically. "Duncan, it's good to see you my friend."

She didn't know the other human, of course, but judged on his appearance and the bulky, shiny, golden armour she guessed that this was the shemlen king. His armour stuck tremendously out from the two shemlen behind him.

"Your Majesty," Duncan said respectfully and bowed slightly.

Bingo.

The king laughed and waved with his armored hand. "No need to be so formal, I'm just glad you made it back in time." Then Lenya felt his gaze resting on her. Ugh. "The Wardens here have already rumored that you've found a promising recruit on your journey. This is her, I take it?" Now the Shem king's eyes were following her more intensively, followed by a tiny smile which made Lenya only feel more uncomfortable.

Great...just great.

"Yes, your Majesty. May I introduce to you..." he pointed at the elf, "...Lenya Mahariel from the Sabrea clan of the Dalish."

"A Dalish? How unusual..." Cailan gasped and blinked a few times, visible surprised. This odd, observing behavior added only more to her already delicate mood. What am I? Some kind of rare animal to stare at? Her eyes narrowed slightly.

Irritating.

"Well, my lady, it's nice to meet you," he nodded in her direction. "I have never met a Dalish elf before, I have to admit. Your people live in the woods far from here, right? I would love to know more about your tribe, as there is so little we know about the Dalish after all. So how is the life in the woods?"

"It was good until I was ripped out of it, human king," Lenya said and glared at him. Behind her Duncan couldn't help to sigh quietly. He should have seen that coming. A moment of awkward silence followed.

"Oh," the king eventually said. "Well, but I'm glad you are here to join the Grey Warden, for they are still too few in numbers here in Ferelden. And I'm looking forward to fight alongside you and Duncan in the following fight..."

"I do not," she interrupted, her face dark.

Duncan cleared his throat, looking to her. " May I remember you that you speak with the king here? A little more respect..."

"Well, the shemlen is not my king, so I own him nothing," Lenya chipped in, matter of factly.

Any other royal person would have become furious of the obvious lack of respect displayed, would scream at her and let her know her place. But not Cailan. Instead of being angry, he even chuckled lightly. "You have quite the temper, my lady, but you should save that for the battlefield. However, Duncan... are the preparations set?"

"So far they are, your Majesty. The Joining ritual will be hold before the battle and then we are ready to fight. Your uncle has sent his troops into march as well. They should reach us within a few weeks."

Cailan ambled up and down, his armor rustled within his movements. " Ahh, Eamon. He just want to have a piece of the glory too. We don't need to wait for his troops, we will end the blight here and now. This is going to be a glorious victory, and I as the king will fight along with the Grey warden, like in the old legends." Cailan's eyes glistered with excitement, while he emphasized his words with huge gestures.

Lenya nearly rolled her eyes on that. This Shem king was more like a child who was excited about getting to play war than a grown up human. She couldn't help but to form one thought: Fool.

"Cailan...Your Majesty, we should not take this battle too lightly..." Duncan tried to intervene, but got interrupted by the king.

"I won't, so fear not, my friend. Yet I'm not sure if this is a real Blight at all. Darkspawn are roaming the lands but there is no signs of an Archdemon so far."

Lenya blinked. Archdemon? ...she decided to ask another time, as now she was simply too tired to care.

"Are we done now? I'm tired," the Dalish said and looked in the round, unabashed.

"Len..." Duncan halted as Cailan raised his hand.

"Then you should get your rest, my lady. I have to go back to my tent before Loghain sends a search party to find me." He laughed amused and nodded shortly to Duncan who bowed slightly down and to Lenya, who didn't react at all. He turned and left, followed by his two heavy armored guards.

Glad that was finally over, Lenya turned to go but was stopped by Duncan. The elf let an annoyed groan out, but halted eventually.

"What?" she sighed. "You have brought me here to show me that your shemlen king is a fool. Now that this is done, can I go rest as promised?" She was surprised how whiny that sounded, and cursed herself for it.

The Grey Warden leader sighed. "Don't be that harsh and respectless. He's a good person. However, he is the king and I can't tell him to judge the blight based on my feelings. But the danger is real and so is the blight.

Lenya tried her best to follow those words, to play by their rules but her mind was lulled by only one thought, repeatedly playing in her head; sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep.

Finally the elder man recognized the weary look in her face and how her legs trembled of exhaustion."Let us discuss that another time, however. You may rest now. Tomorrow night the Joining be held, but before this there are some preparations needed. So be ready in the morning."

"Uhuu," she nodded numbly, not actually caring.

Duncan couldn't help but to smile at this motion. "Your tent is already prepared for you. You will find it across the mages at the main camp. It's the blue one." With those words, he walked away with fast paces, leaving Lenya on her own.

The sun was fully down by now, the stars and the glowing, round moon up in the black sky taking it's place. Lenya hadn't noticed how cold it has become within the last hour and her rather curtly Dalish armor did little to keep her warm. Normally she wasn't one who shivered of cold so easily, so she blamed the exhaustion for it.

Now the surroundings were still and Lenya was on her own in the huge place. She eventually recognized how lost she felt. She disliked the shemlen who dragged her here very much, but after all he was the only person she knew now. Her people had left her to travel to the north and she would probably never see them again. Her stomach made a turn as the realization hit her.

She was all alone. Lost in a world that was not hers and never would.

Lenya's breath quivered as she breathed out and struggled to fight the tears back, which wanted to come up. No, she would not cry. She would never let a human see her in tears. She wouldn't never submit. They could take her life but they could not take her pride. Never.

She took several deep breaths before she felt brave enough to move again and to search her tent for the desperately needed sleep. The way to the main camp felt like hours, although the distance has been quite short. The main camp was already pretty deserted, as most of the men had retreated to their tent as soon the night had fallen. In times of war there weren't many opportunities to sleep; so one should use those wisely. Only a few scattered voices and laughter parted the tranquility.

As the Dalish mechanically moved on, she passed an elderly woman dressed in a red robe who greeted her, but she was too tired to care. At least she wasn't freezing herself to death anymore. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Lenya felt like she was burning, her whole body felt like as if it was in flames.

What is wrong with me?

"Are you okay?" The woman behind her asked, sounding worried as she slowly approached her.

Lenya didn't notice her; she too focused on reaching the her tent which was now in sight, dragging her feet with sluggish steps. Move, move, move, her brain chanted, but her limbs didn't seem to share such enthusiasm. The surroundings that were furiously spinning around her wasn't helpful either.

Stupid ground stop sp- her own thoughts were cut short as her body hit the ground, and she passed out cold. The elder mage who had observed her from some distance before, gasped in shock and ran to her side.

.

.

---

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Alistair loved the time in the evening when everything began to go quiet, the little hours where he could sit next to the fireplace and just be. After all this place had become unnaturally busy in the last past days with mages, the Chantry, the king... Maker, it seemed to Alistair as if half Ferelden was here in Ostagar.

Sooo, only the Darkspawn are now missing in the big party. I reeeally hope they got their invitation letters. I mean, I even perfumed mine.

He chuckled on his thought and ambled on to the centre of the camp. Suddenly his hackles raised and an odd feeling formed itself in his stomach; his templar senses were reacting...to the use of magic? But how? Why? Alistair was confused. Sure, there were a lot of magic used in order to prepare the Joining ritual, but they have already stopped for tonight and this was only a single source as well. Without noticing his steps became faster as the templar within him took over.

Old habits die hard, huh? Still, he thought it wouldn't hurt to check this out, just to be safe. As he finally arrived at the main camp, the source of magic had already ceased, but he still could feel the remnants vibrating through the air. And then he discovered something more odd; a person lying on the ground and seemingly not moving, while another person bended over that body. Of course the vibes of magic came exactly from that direction. Uh Oh.

"This should do it," murmured the elder mage, pleased as she had finished her healing spell. "Poor girl." With one hand she compassionately drove through a strand of the elf's blond hair, tugging it aside.

"I've healed you, but how can I get you away from the middle of the camp? Even with you so small, I'm barely strong enough to carry you." The mage let out a sigh as she suddenly saw how a young man approached to her, running even. A smile curved around her lips. Perfect.

"W-what have you done?" Oh great idea, Alistair. Talk to the mage, so she has enough time to frog-zap you.

"I've healed her," the mage stated calmly and looked to the man, smiling.

"Healed? Her?" Alistair's brain needed a moment to process those words. Then he eventually looked down, and noticed that said person was a young woman who was lying on the ground, still unconscious.

"Oooh," he just uttered, feeling the tips of his ears burning for jumping on a rather more...violent conclusion. And a big part of him was relieved that he has been wrong. No frog-zapping tonight. Good thing.

"What else should have I done, young man?" she inquired, amused.

"N-nothing, ahaaha. Anyway..." Alistair stammered clearing his throat, "...what happened here?"

"May I suggest you ask the questions later? First please help me to get her off the ground and into a tent. This isn't exactly the place a young lady should sleep, don't you think? I would carry her myself, but I'm just an old woman and..."

"Alright, point taken," Alistair chipped in. He stepped closer to the small frame on the ground, bowed down to her and swallowed, as his train of thought hit him.

Carrying means touching her, right? Of course it does, you idiot, he chided himself right after and shook his head. This inner conversation surely would have gone on for a while longer, if there wouldn't have been a mage in front of him.

"So will you finally pick her up or want you just continue staring at her?"she asked, amused.

"I-I...wasn't staring a-at h-her. I w-was thinking." Although this has been the full truth, the way Alistair delivered those lines did little to convince the woman of it.

"Certainly."

"Ooookaaay," he said more to himself, and then tucked one of his arms under her neck to support her head, and the other around her knees. His eyes grew wider in realization.

Oh Maker she's wearing a skirt.

If it wouldn't have been for his splint mail gauntlets, he already would have dropped dead of embarrassment. So he was just glad that the light was only faint, and his blushing not so visible. At least he hoped so. As Alistair eventually heaved her slender body carefully up, he froze in his movements for a brink of a moment. She was surprisingly feather light in his arms. It seemed as weighted she almost nothing. And despite his Splintmail armour he could feel the heat of her bo- Oh Maker.

"She had a high fever. I cured almost all of it, though she desperately needs rest now. Let's carry her over to my tent." The elder mage explained and stood up, motioning Alistair to follow her.

He just weakly nodded and obeyed. The light of the mage's tent illuminated their way from afar, so it was easy to find after all. "My name is Wynne, young man. I thought when you enter my tent, you should at least know my name." Smirking amused at the embarrassment this sentence caused him, she shoved the fabric at the entrance aside and entered, followed by Alistair with Lenya in his arms.

"I'm Alistair, Grey Wa-" he halted as his gaze unintentionally fell on the elf's face. It was the first time that he actually saw the person he carried. The prior light had been too weak to make out her features. He felt stupid for staring at her tribal tattoo, which were artfully entwining around on her forehead and ended in fine, thin lines on the tip of her nose. One loose strand of her ash blonde hair fell back, and bared a previous hidden pointy ear.

An elf? No wonder that she is so small.

Her eyes were still closed and her breath came in calm and continuous intervals. She seemingly slept good and tight ...in his arms.

"Uuum..." He felt himself blushing even more.

My how adorable. "You don't do that very often, do you?"

"Well, actually I regularly pick unconscious women up to carry them around. It's a hobby of mine. ...Anyway..." Alistair muttered sarcastically, looking embarrassed, "...where..."

"Oh yes. I apologize, I'm quite forgetful at times. Must be my age." Wynne smiled innocently. " Lay her down here.." she pointed at her bedroll,"... but before that, unsheathe her daggers, would you?" The mage paused and watched Alistair carefully perform his task, as realization dawned on her.

"I thought I recognized her from somewhere. Now I remember. That young woman was following Duncan around, and I think they both arrived here at the same time. She is probably the one that everyone in camp is talking about because this doesn't happen very often, as far as I know. A female Grey Warden recruit. Yes, that's most likely her."

Alistair felt staggered for moment. A recruit of the Grey Warden? That means I have to see her again? And even have to...talk to her after tonight? Oh great, the road to disaster is already paved.

"Do you know where Duncan is? I think I'll have a little discussion with him. It's terrible that one of his recruits passed out due to sheer exhaustion and with a high fever as well. I don't want to think about what would have happened if I wasn't around at the time. He better watch out for them," Wynne muttered indignantly, adding several inaudible curses to her words.

"Err...no? I haven't seen him since his return."

"Well then, I will have to search for him. The area isn't big enough for him to hide; I will find him."

"Why have I no problems imagining that?" Alistair murmured to himself, the words not audible for the mage.

"Did you said something, Alistair?"

"No, no, no." Please don't frog-zap me. Wynne smiled one more time. "Good. If you excuse me now, I have an appointment with your leader."

"B-but what about her?" His voice was higher than intended, while he pointed at the small bundle sleeping on the bedroll. Unlike moments before, the elven woman wasn't sleeping that quietly anymore now. She had turned herself on one side, her hands under her head while her face twitched repeatedly. Alistair watched her somewhat worried.

Is she okay? She looks like as if she is in pain...

"She needs rest now to get rid of the remnants of fever and exhaustion. As said, I wasn't able to cure all her injuries, but she should be fine in the morning." Her gaze grew soft as it fell on the elf. Well at least what concerns her physical health, she thought to herself grimly. "Look after her, while I'm gone, okay?"

"Oka- wait. What? No, no, no ….baaad idea, I …," he stopped when he noticed that the mage was already gone. Alistair sighed in an exaggerated way, but accepted that he would be babysitting the sleeping elf until the elderly mage returned.

"Oh Maker, what have I got myself into here?" He looked at her again and suppressed the urge to panic. Alistair has never been alone in a room with a woman before, let alone with a sleeping one. Well, there has been the Reverent Mother… but that didn't really count. The rational part of his brain told him that there was no need to be nervous; he was just watching after a fellow Warden, Nothing more.

Unfortunately, Alistair had never been good in listening to this part of him. So he found himself only panicking more as he got lost in another train of thought.

A loud and hitched groan passed through her lips, startling him out of those thoughts and making him look down at her. She looks so small and ...vulnerable. I wonder why Duncan has brought her here? Caught between curiosity and concern, he bent closer to the elf, hearing her uttering strange, tiny noises. Is this elvish, perhaps? Between all the foreign syllables that didn't make any sense to him, she suddenly exclaimed a word clearly audible to him.

"Tamlen...no…"

Suddenly, her arm darted toward him and found his armored hand, clutching it tightly. This all happened too fast for Alistair to be able to react or back away, leaving him only to stare at his hand within hers in disbelief.

"By Andraste..." he exclaimed, shocked, his heart beating furiously within his chest and the colour of his face the reddest tone possible.

He didn't dare to breathe or even move, and since the Dalish seemed to have stilled now as well, a pregnant stillness fell over the place. Alistair's mind raced to find a solution how to get away from her without waking her up. The mage has said she needed the sleep, and so he didn't want to disturb her. His gaze fell onto the elf's hand, which held his quite firmly, reluctant to let it go, if at all. The feverish burn of her skin crept even into his gauntlets, making him gulp.

Oh Maker, please strike me down with lightening. Now. His prayer, however, remained unheard, so Alistair started tried to shake her hand off, but that only resulted in her gripping tighter. " By Andraste, this woman has quite some strength," he sighed and decided to eventually surrender to such stubbornness. Not that he had much of a choice anyway...

To make it him at least a bit more comfortable -if it were at all possible in this situation- he knelt down beside the bedroll, and began to wait.

The minutes until Wynne finally returned seemed to be the longest in his life, followed closely after by the most embarrassing ones as the elder mage stepped into her tent and saw their hands linked together.

"My, you are quite the charming one, hmm? I mean, I was away just a while, and you are already holding hands." She grinned almost deviously at the sight before her.

Alistair felt as if his head was about to explode. "I-I was n-not... she suddenly g-groped my hand a-and..."

Wynne raised an eyebrow, disbelief etched on her face. "Certainly, young man. However...I thank you for taking care of the young lady, and quite well I might add."

The Warden flinched.

That evil, evil witch is actually enjoying this! Old woman? Maker's ass, I'm not buying that anymore.

Alistair stood up, still struggling to get his hand free of her grip. Sure he was stronger, but he didn't want her to wake up; alone the thought of her being conscious in this situation horrified him more than a whole darkspawn horde would ever be able to. So he rather tried it in the subtle way, or what Alistair thought would be subtle. After a few forlorn tries, he eventually made it, and dashed stumbling and heedless of Wynne out of the tent. Finally outside, he took several breaths of the mild air to appease his rapidly beating heart.

Maker, what an evening...

.

.

---

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"Alistair, there you are." A familiar voice crept through the storms of his thoughts, catching his attention.

"Duncan," he said respectfully to the man who now stood before him. Alistair couldn't help to grin, as he noticed the weary expression on his mentor's face. "Hard day, huh?"

Duncan sighed. "You have no idea..." Together they walked over to the large fire and sat down on a log across from it. Alistair felt how he was calming down again.

"Well, actually I have." Normally the thought of Duncan getting lectured by him, instead the other way around would have put a wicked grin on Alistair's face for weeks. Though after the happenings of the evening, it had somehow lost its charm for the young Warden. At this thought his eyes subconsciously darted down to his hand, which still felt warm for some strange reason, before he quickly averted them again.

"Alistair? Are you even listening? "

He looked up and cocked his head. "Hmm?"

Another sigh parted the night. "I have asked you, how is she?"

The Warden blinked. How is she...?

"Oh. Good...so far. Though, it seemed as if she had nightmares; the horrible ones."

Duncan nodded. "As expected."

Alistair looked up, confused. "What does that even mean?"

"Normally I'd get more than angry if someone stepped over the boundaries and into Warden business, but I've known Wynne for quite some time now, and therefore I am not. I appreciate her concern for the welfare of the recruits, and thus I've explained my reasons to her. Wynne now knows why we had to hurry in that kind of way to come here." He paused shortly to breath deeply. "She is already tainted."

"What?"

"Alistair, be quiet and let me explain. Deep in the woods we found an ancient ruin with artefact's of the old Tevinter… or better said of the darkspawn. She came in touch with it. In order to save her life, I had to bring her to Ostagar, as fast as possible. She's already changing..."

"Well, she looked pretty...elvish to me," Alistair chipped in, confounded.

"This is because the change starts inwardly; slow and creeping. And you do not want to see what becomes out of tainted women unlucky enough not to be able to do the Joining ritual to stop it." Alistair felt the chill at the thought. "That's why we traveled so adamantly, but I think I've underestimated the disease in her. So I'm really grateful that Wynne healed her, because it buys us the time to get the preparations for the ritual done. She doesn't have much time left… if the ritual can't be hold tomorrow night for whatever reasons, I fear I will have to kill her."

"No," Alistair snapped impulsively. Feeling Duncan's scrutinizing look burned on him, so he added quickly, "I mean, we've already lost so many people through the Joining. Last time only Relon survived out of four recruits, so I don't want to see more of them killed. Especially when it's not the darkspawn killing them."

"A nice sentiment, though not always feasible. What has to be done will be done."

Duncan's words halted Alistair, before he nodded. "I see. So that is why you brought her with you? I've already wondered why you took an elven woman, since she's is so small and...well small."

Duncan laughed. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not collecting people out of kind-heartedness. She is a talented rogue with a lot of potential and-" he sighed at the memory, shaking his head, "-lots of stubbornness as well."

Alistair grinned. "Stubborn, eh?" He cocked his head. "More than me?"

"Oh, I've had it easy with you, Alistair. I had to use the Right of Conscription on her, and still she fought to remain with her people. I can understand that, but not the biting part..."

His grin grew even wider. "She bit you?"

The Grey Warden leader let out a slight noise of disapproval. "Anyway, tomorrow I want you to meet up with the three recruits as soon as possible. The ritual will be held in the evening, but I don't want you to waste any time to let them collect the things needed." Alistair nodded. "Good, while we are at it... how are Jory and Daveth doing?"

"They trained well today."

Alistair paused before he formed the thought that had kept him busy since he had carried her into Wynne's tent. "Um...what is her name?"

Duncan didn't know exactly what made him aware all the sudden, but something did. Maybe it was the tone in Alistair's voice that indicated his interest beyond where it supposed to be. "Alistair..."

"Strange. I always thought that was my name..."

His mentor sighed. "...don't fall for her. You will regret it, believe me. "

Alistair did his best not to blush...but failed miserably. "No, no, no! I'm not! Oh Maker, Duncan, I just want to know how to address her when I meet her tomorrow!"

Duncan scrutinized him for a moment. "I see. Still be aware that duty always comes first for you as a Grey Warden. We have no room for personal feelings. Those could cloud our ability to judge."

Alistair shot up from his log. "As if I didn't know that," The Warden groaned briefly. "Alright, forget I asked." With that he moved away from the fire and toward his tent.

"Lenya. Lenya is her name. Good night, Alistair," Duncan called after him, before he stood up and left for his own tent, shaking his head.

This made him stop shortly and a grin played into his features. "Lenya, hmm? Interesting."

Somehow the prospect of meeting her when she would be awake seemed suddenly less horrifying than before.

At least theoretically.

Chapter 3: Prologue: Regrets

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"Oh you are awake."

When Lenya opened her eyes, she found herself looking at an elder, female shem face she didn't know. But why was this woman in her tent, and stared and smiled at her as if she were some kind of animal?

"What are you doing in my tent?" Lenya said, but winced at the same time. Her head hurt, as if a Halla had trampled on it. Not only was everything a blur, and she couldn't remember what had happened, but also the sides of her temples were pulsing and aching like mad.

"My dear, you are in my tent," the elder woman sitting before her explained. "I found and healed you, as you had passed out in the middle of the main camp last night..." The mage paused at Lenya's obvious dismay displayed in her features. "Are you still in pain? Let me help you."

Lenya's eyes widened, when the woman leaned in, a strange, blue light in her hand reaching for her head.

Instinctively, she backed away and tried to grab the daggers on her back, just to notice that they were gone. The Dalish couldn't hinder the strange light that swirled around and then merged with her. Suddenly, all pain ebbed away and was substituted by the clearness of mind and utter ease. A languorous sigh escaped her lips, eyes closed. Magic, her mind asserted, ...but the good kind. Just like the one of our keeper.

"Better now?" The voice of the elder woman put her out of her temporary reverie, and she just nodded weakly in response. The mage smiled. "My, you don't speak much, do you? Well, I'm Wynne. What is your name, young lady?" The elf looked at her critically and wondered whether to answer the question or not.

"Lenya," she quietly murmured and looked away. Why is that shem so friendly? Suspicion rose within her. What does she want? It was utterly confusing to the elf.

"That's a nice name. You are one of Duncan's recruits, right?" Wynne tried her to engage her to talk.

"Yes. Unfortunately." Lenya cursed herself for speaking so openly with the foreign woman, yet somehow it seemed as if she would do no harm to her. Still she decided to keep her guard up.

Never trust a shem.

"Oh don't say that Lenya. Maybe this is a new chance for you, although an unwanted one. I'd rather be at the tower now than participating in the war, but sometimes we don't have a choice and do what we must do." Wynne paused a moment before breaking into laughter. "Oh, look at me, I'm rambling like an old woman."

"It's because you are old," Lenya shot out, all but tactful. This made the mage even laugh even more. "True indeed. Well, you are quite the honest one. A good trait, I suppose. Keep it. However, I'm glad to see you well and in full spirits today. You gave my old heart quite a startle last night."

The Dalish knitted her brows in confusion. A question forming within her mind found its way to her tongue. "Why did you help me?"

Wynne blinked. "Why should I NOT? I could hardly leave you there. Come on, dear, you really should eat a bit before you start with today's task," the elder mage said and reached down beside her to pick up a plate with a fairly large piece of sliced bread, cheese, dry meat, and fruits and presented it to Lenya.

She just stared, confounded, at the plate before her eyes, before she averted them again. "I'm not hungry." The growling of her stomach betrayed those words, and she felt how the heat rose to the tips of her pointy ears.

"I see," Wynne grinned knowingly and put the food right beside her. Uncertain what to do, Lenya's gaze wandered from the plate and back to Wynne... and again. But then the hunger took over the caution and skepticism she had held up to that point, and the elf took the plate.

She doesn't trust anyone? It was more a conclusion than a question of Wynne's mind, as she watched her devouring the food after her reluctance.

Lenya hasn't noticed how hungry she was until she had swallowed the first piece of bread. Actually, hungry wasn't strong enough a word; starving would fit better. She couldn't remember when the last time she had eaten something was. Two days? Three days? For her body, however, it has been too long a time, so she had no choice but to give in to that need. Even if it was shemlen-food, even if she didn't want any help.

"Today is your big day, hmm?" Lenya looked up from her plate, confused. "Well, I mean the joining," Wynne laughed. "Duncan told me that once you are ready here, you should search for a junior warden called Alistair. Though, first freshen yourself up and get ready. You'll find your weapons and needed supplies on the side. I, however, have to go back to work now. You know... boring mage things." Wynne winked at her, which perplexed the Dalish even more. "I wish you all the best and success for today, young lady." With a tiny nod, the mage left the tent, and a rather confused Lenya, behind.

She stared a moment in the direction the woman had left to before muttering, "Weird humans," followed by a shake of her head. After she finished her meal, Lenya decided to get ready, as she had been told, to meet that shemlen named Alistair.

Whoever that was.

.

.

---

.

Alistair's night had been rather unpleasant.

Being so close to a darkspawn horde, and the events of the last evening, weren't really the best mixture for a nice, healthy sleep. And now the Reverent Mother tried to make him look bad as well.

"'Tell the mages we have a message for them', she said. Yes, great idea, me and the mages are soo clooose after all," he muttered under his breath, while he tiredly scuffled to the appointed mage.

He saw the man standing near a ruin and only hoped he would get out there alive... and in human form after the talk. Being a former templar wasn't really helpful in that case. More like a paved road to disaster, really. Another one. Seemed like he had developed a keen talent for discovering those.

Which reminded him that he had to meet that elven woman later. Awake.

Suddenly, Alistair didn't feel that brave anymore, as the pictures of last night flashed his mind. He sighed inwardly and stopped right before the man.

"What do you want?" the mage asked, scrutinizing him.

"To make it short so we can skip the whole frogzipping part and other ugly stuff: the Reverent Mother needs to see you. I know you are terribly busy with all the lightning that comes out of your hand and so, but I'm just the messenger, bringing... well… a message."

The mage stared disbelieving at him for a moment, before he found his voice again. "Do I have to remind you that we are here on the king's behalf?"

"Do I have to remind you that I'm just here to deliver that message?" he mimicked the mage's words. Okay that sounded bold even to Alistair's ears. Seemed like a restless night full of weird darkspawn dreams did wonders to his courage. He only hoped he could keep that up for later use, like elvish recruits and... well… mainly for that purpose.

If Alistair hadn't been so engaged in the heated talk with the mage, he would have noticed that said recruit had already come all the way up to him. With a mixture of annoyance and amusement Lenya was watching the spectacle before her eyes.

Eventually, the mage let out a displeased grunt. "Fine, I'll go to her then."

Alistair watched him leaving and, while still in a bold mood, he exclaimed, "Alistair one, Mage zero. Yaaay." Fitting to his words, he stretched one arm in the sky and turned around... just to look into the face of an elven woman. That elven woman.

Talk about awkward.

As if someone had cast a spell on him, he could feel all the bravery and boldness leaving his system at once. Alistair staggered, felt the heat rising to his cheeks and tried to find some words, but his head was suddenly empty. He saw how she narrowed her eyes - green, glistering eyes, he noticed - but didn't say anything, which left him only longer in such misery.

"I-I..." he tried to begin, but she interrupted him.

"Are you an idiot?"

Alistair gave in to the urge to blink, as her first ever spoken words to him sank in. It sounded more like a conclusion than a question. Great. "W-what?" he managed to bring out.

She let a sound out what resembled an agitated sigh. "You are that shem named Alistair, right? I was told to meet you. Unfortunately, it seems."

Alistair kept staring at her, while his mouth went repeatedly open and shut but no sound came out. He wished he could easily speak the thoughts that were flooding his mind.

Calm down, you idiot. No need to be nervous; it's not like I have carried her arou- oh great that was a helpful thought. He gulped and saw that she had suddenly turned around to leave. "N-no. Wait."

The elf reluctantly stopped but more because Alistair had grabbed her arm in a sudden reflex. She quickly discarded it with what sounded like a growl and faced him again. "Oh, I thought we were done here already." The piercing sarcasm in her voice made him wince.

Alistair sighed exaggeratedly and eventually found enough strength to speak. "I guess we had a bad start here, huh? Sorry about that. Yes, I'm Alistair, and no, I'm not an idiot... most the time." He weakly smiled at her, but she just continued to look at him, unperturbed. "However…" he harrumphed, "...you are the elf, right?"

Oh great Alistair, you are one master of words.

"No, actually I'm a dwarf in disguise." The Dalish rolled her eyes at so much obviousness. If she did that because it was obvious that she was an elf or because it was obvious that Alistair had made himself an idiot, he could not say for sure. Probably more of the latter.

He grimaced. "No, no, I mean, you are the elvish recruit Duncan has told me about. Lenya is your name, right? Nice to meet you." Awake.

"And now, shem?" That question and the rude tone caught him off guard.

"W-well, now we search for the other recruits and meet Duncan. About the talk earlier with the mage..."

"I'm not interested to hear it." With that she turned around to go. Ouch. He stared at her for a moment, noticing her proud and elegant bearing as she moved, before the Warden actually remembered that he had to follow her. All of a sudden, she stopped and, he nearly bumped into her.

"Why are you following me, human?" The gaze she threw him was ice cold.

"Well, I'm just doing my job, you know. As the latest member of the order, I have to take care of the recruits today."

"And this includes following me around like a puppy?"

"Apparently," he grinned shortly, but since she didn't react on his joke, he tried being more serious. "Look, I won't get in your way, okay. So let us just find the other two recruits and then move to Duncan to get the things needed for the joining."

"That's the best thing you have said so far," Lenya muttered and moved on.

"Thank you, my lady. That is so kind of you." Alistair faked a bow. Lenya ignored the mocking gesture.

Somehow, this woman was more likable when she was asleep.

"So where to find those shems?" Lenya asked him without to stop her steps.

"Huh? … Oh, you mean the other recruits, right? Well I think Daveth was standing near the merchant, trying to ... well never mind. And Ser Jory was somewhere near the sickbay. At least, the last time I saw them."

They left the ruin and were about to cross the main camp to reach the merchant when said man raised his voice and literally screamed in Lenya's direction. "Hey, elf. Yeah, you over there. Why are you dressed up that fancy and not delivering the things I've given to you?"

Lenya stopped dead in her tracks. Alistair saw how her whole body tensed as she glared in the direction of the merchant.

"Elf, are you deaf? I'm talking to you."

Maker, what an idiot. "Umm Len-" Alistair didn't come any further with his words, as she suddenly ran toward the merchant, and with one swift move, grabbed that man by the scruff of his neck.

"Do I look like an elf you can order around, human? Do I look like one of those flat ears, who lick your boots?" She spat those words in his face, nearly screaming them. To emphasize the words, she drew one of her daggers and held it near to the merchant's throat.

Alistair's eyes widened as he saw the latest development and ran over to stop her. He didn't know how, but he had to. By Andraste, that woman is nuts.

"L-Lenya, stop it. Please."

Oh great, this will do it.

Alistair stood by her side, waving hectically with his arms and felt completely overextended with the situation.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my lady. I have mistaken you for another... person. You are a Grey Warden recruit, right? I now see it. So, please... don't kill me," the merchant cried out.

The Dalish however, didn't move away... at least not instantly. She held him by his collar for a moment longer but sheathed her dagger again. "I never intended to kill you, shem... but if you speak once again in such a tone with me..." She paused to let the words sink in. "... I may change my mind."

The merchant gulped and simply nodded. Then, she finally loosened her grip, and with a final death glare, turned around to leave the scene.

Alistair stared at her for a moment longer, at a loss for words. As the shock had eventually ebbed away, anger made its way into his system. "What the maker is wrong with you? You can't run around and threaten people with your weapons..."

"Oh no, I can't?" She blinked innocently and looked at him. "After all, that shem insulted me."

"By calling you an elf?" He arched an eyebrow. Somehow, Alistair had the feeling that by the end of that day he would have plucked half of his hair out or strangled Lenya to death. And right now, he liked his hair a lot more.

"No, by calling me a servant. I'm a Dalish, not one of those flat ears, who are living penned up in shemlen-cities and licking their boots for a few coins." Her eyes flickered with disdain at the last words.

Alistair was disturbed. "I... see. Still, you are going to be a Grey Warden soon. And we usually don't run around and menace people. Nope, we actually help them. By killing darkspawn."

"Hmm," the Dalish huffed, unimpressed. "So darkspawn I'm allowed to kill then?"

Glad to have a somewhat civilized conversation with her now, he even smiled a bit in her direction. "Very much so."

It wasn't actually a smile that he saw on her face then, but something close to it. It could be best described as a dark glowing of her features, like a threatening promise. "Good, I have many things which I want to pay those stinky creatures, and slicing them to pieces is just one of them."

The way Lenya pronounced it gave him the chill, and Alistair couldn't even say if it was in a good or in a bad way. Probably a mixture of both.

Curiosity got the better part of him. "How come you hate them so much... okay they are stinky, gross, and want to kill all living things... no, scratch that. Actually I understand your hatred for them. Still, why so bitter?"

While she was previously looking at him and willing to talk, Alistair now had the impression she fell silent from in her previous demeanor.

And here I thought we could be friends. Aww.

She didn't look at him, her voice quiet, unstable. "That's none of your business, human."

"I see..." He decided to leave at that. She somehow sounded sad, lost.

She took a turn to the left to reach the sickbay and ran into a person who crossed her way. "Stupid shems. Everyone is so tall. Irritating."

Alistair looked up, just to see Daveth standing before her, grinning. "Oh, you are that elvish woman Duncan has recruited. The whole camp is talking about you. And wow," he eyed her shamelessly like a piece of meat. Ugh. "… I can see why now." Alistair noticed how the elf tensed up again, yet remained uncharacteristically quiet.

Daveth reached his hand out to her. "I'm Daveth, a fellow recruit. And you are?"

Alistair saw how her gaze wandered from Daveth's hand back to his face before Lenya turned away. "...not interested."

Alistair couldn't help to grin on that. Sure, Lenya wasn't the first woman who had brushed him off, but no one had done it so thoroughly like she had. "Umm Lenya, this is one of the recruits we were searching for. Just mentioning."

"And? Should another idiot be following me around as well now?" Lenya hadn't even bothered to turn around, and went further up to the camp with the injured soldiers.

Daveth looked confused at Alistair. "Did she just call me an idiot?"

Alistair heaved a sigh, yet couldn't fully wash the grin from his face. "Yup." He patted the rogue on his back before he went to go. "Be a good recruit and wait for us at the fireplace, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah, and what are you going to do in the meanwhile, Alistair?"

The Warden shrugged and looked in the direction Lenya left to. "Damage control. Apparently."

Without waiting for any further reaction from Daveth, Alistair made his way up to the sickbay to follow an elf on the loose. Only problem was he just couldn't find her. The sickbay was overloaded with injured people, some screaming something about darkspawn and death, rambling incoherently in fever and pain. Alistair tried to tune the yelling out to search on for his own personal darkspawn.

She's one archdemon short of a blight... that's for sure. He sighed at his thought as he strode through the middle of the place. After another moment of fruitless searching, he found her standing in front of a huge iron cage. Without to say anything, she just stood there and stared at a skinny, dirty, and almost naked man without to do as much as even to blink.

"Umm, Lenya...?" he tried to address her.

"That shemlen... why is he in there?" came quietly from her direction.

"Dunno, sort of... vacation?" Okay that was lame, Alistair...

"Haha, very funny, big boy in splintmail." It was the man inside the cage who was speaking now. "Anyway, is that your elf who is staring at me like some animal? She better does her job like a good elf and get me some food. I'm starving here."

Uh oh. In his imagination he saw her already springing forward and slicing that man to pieces for indirectly calling her a servant. Though, to his big surprise, she remained calm, just deliberately took one step forward to the cage and asked with an almost too sweet-sounding voice, "Why should I want you to bring you some food... human, hmm?"

Now the man showed her a toothy grin, and Alistair saw that he was missing a few of them. "Well lady, because I have something you might want to have..."

The elven woman crossed her arms and wrinkled her nose, but decided to play along. "What, by the elvhenan, should a stinky shemlen like you have for me?"

"Well, you see the big, shiny chest in the mage area?" He pointed in the direction where the tranquil stood. "I got the key for it."

"U-huu. Stealing from mages. Very baaad idea." Alistair noted. Much to his dismay, he saw how Lenya was eying the chest in a very interested way. "You are not considering it, are you?" he added, and looked at her, almost pleading. But she ignored him completely. Oh Maker...

"All I want is something to eat and water for it and then you'll get a lot of shiny, helpful supplies. I'm sure, my lady. Just ask the guard for the food." The prisoner pointed at an armed man next to them.

Lenya wavered for a moment and looked to the guard and prisoner, waging the option. She shrugged. "Why not?" And to Alistair's horror, she walked over to the guard. Somehow the elf managed to persuade a portion of stew out of him, which the guard grudgingly handed over.

Alistair used the absence of Lenya to talk with the prisoner. "Where did you hide the key, by the way? I mean... in a way the guards didn't find it?"

The man snickered. "Well, you know, I swallowed it... and later it came back to me... in a natural way."

Alistair contorted his face in abhorrence. "That's just... disgusting." Lenya returned with the food and water in her hands. He turned to her. "Umm… not want to disturb your little trading party for stealing goods... but are you sure you want this key? I think you probably may want to rethink it. BELIEVE ME."

The Dalish looked at him and blinked innocently. "Why is that?"

Alistair cleared his throat. "Well, let's say the key is not the cleanest one. And by the way, hurray for your sudden concern for a human prisoner and all that, but we still need to find Ser Jory..."

"Concern... for a shem?" Lenya raised an eyebrow. "Not really, I was just hungry. You must be stupid if you think I'd get a human - who indirectly called me a servant - something to eat at all." She shrugged and sat down right beside the cage and calmly began to eat the stew, well aware of the prisoner beside her.

"WHAAAAT?" the man in the cage yelled, while Alistair couldn't do anything but blankly stare at her. "B-but I have a key... you can't do that, you evil elf witch..." The man was caught between rage, despair, and consternation.

Heedless of it, she looked up from the bowl and glared at him with flashing green eyes. "You see that I can. When your people needed you, you ran away; that human told me." She pointed at the guard. "And I have no mercy for deserters. Keep your stinky key; I can pick the lock of the chest any time if I want to."

The cursing of the prisoner turned into incoherent crying as those words sank in. After a few more bits, Lenya put the bowl of stew down and stood up again, seemingly pleased with the meal.

She turned to Alistair, who was still at loss for words. "Can we go now? I've already found that other shem. He came to me and started talking. Told me the half of his life-story that I did not want to hear. He left in the direction of the leader, so we can go there now, too." Lenya went past the Warden and in the direction of the fireplace.

Slowly but finally, Alistair's mind started to work again after the unbelievable turn of events.

Great not only that she's crazy, she's also  dangerous. Maker... what have I done to deserve to watch after such a recruit?

After a short, silent pause of simply following her, he tried to speak with her about it. "Lenya, even if he is a deserter... that what you have done there was... very cruel." He made a mental note to get the prisoner at least one last meal.

"Oh, is that so? In my clan..." she started, but immediately stopped again, leaving the sentence unfinished. "However, what is this Joining ritual about?"

A not so subtle change of topics.

Alistair noticed the strain in her voice as she spoke about her clan... or at least intended to. This is not so easy for her as she wants it to look like, hmm? Inwardly, he decided to ask Duncan more about her background, because he doubted that the Dalish would tell him when he asked. Sure, she was crazy and all, but also seemed kind of... alone. As far as Alistair knew about Ferelden's geography, the Dalish and other woods where her people used to live were far away from here.

"Umm, I'm sorry, I can't tell you more about it. You have to wait until it takes place in the evening."

"I see. But it involves magic, right?" Lenya said while looking over her shoulder. Pointing to the side, she added. "All those mages here, I mean."

Alistair felt dumbstruck, after she had hit the bulls-eye. Huh?.. Uhh... an excuse, an excuse... "They are here on the king's behalf... for the war..." It wasn't even a lie; still, Alistair has never been good with those kind of things.

"For the war, huh? So why are they casting spells now? It sure is for the joining in the evening."

And I thought I was nosy. "They are... err... practicing. Yes... that's it," Alistair tried to convince her. Though even he recognized how lame that sounded.

Lenya stopped and turned around to him, rolling her eyes. "You really are an idiot, huh." Not caring for a remark from him, she walked on.

Alistair made a face but just thought his answer. Yes, maybe I really am, but you are crazy, dangerous and...unfortunately sharp-minded. Damn...

He was just glad that it only took one more corner to finally reach the fireplace. He had never ever been more glad to see Duncan in his life than now, because that meant he made it through that Ostagar detour alive... despite that elven lunatic at his side. Alistair didn't know what face he must have made, but Duncan seemed to enjoy his distress. He wasn't showing that openly, of course, but the amused look of his mentor said more than enough.

"What took you so long, Alistair?" Duncan asked innocently. The two other recruits, Daveth and Ser Jory, were standing left and right on his side, eying him curiously.

Alistair frowned. "Ha, ha, very funny, Duncan. You know, Lenya and I..." he stopped, as he noticed that the Dalish was gone. Again. "Lenyaaa?" It sounded more desperate than he had intended it and because of that he could hear two recruits behind him snickering. Great. Way to gain respect as a Warden.

"Oh great, another elf. What do you want?" It was the voice of one of the Ash warriors, who stood not far from the fireplace in front of his tent.

Alistair couldn't help but groan and roll his eyes at Ferelden's general impoliteness to other races. Not that he paid great heed to it until now, but, in Lenya's case, it would indeed be better if those people would remain quiet... or at least more polite. For their own sake. Though, much to her credit, she stayed calm again. It might only have been his imagination, but maybe she was heeding his advice after that merchant incident... at least a bit.

"Oh great, another human," he heard her hissing in a sharp voice. Alistair stepped closer and observed the somehow amusing picture before his eyes. She, as an elf, was reaching the muscular warrior only up to the chest, though what she was missing on height, she could easily compensate with her proud and sturdy posture before him, her hands provocatively stemmed in her sides.

"That animal over there... it looks sick." She inched closer to the kennel and much to Alistair's surprise, he saw how Lenya's features softened up, as she studied the trembling huge dog huddled in a corner.

The kennel master sighed, but seemed glad that someone actually did care. "Yes, because the mabari is sick. He came in touch with the tainted blood of the darkspawn and will most likely die if he doesn't get the white, wild flower as medicine. Those are growing in the Korcari wilds." He looked at her. "You are not coincidentally going there, are you? Anyway, while you're here, you can help me to muzzle it. He doesn't seem to be afraid of you."

Lenya's eyebrows furrowed. "To muzzle him? What does that mean?"

The man rummaged shortly in the pocket behind him, just to bring a simple but thick black collar and a muzzle forth. "You go into the kennel and put that on the mabari, so I can treat him with some medicine to ease his pain a bit."

Alistair could literally see how she was contemplating this offer, with her face grimacing even more. But then she made a step forward and took the collar out of the Ash warrior's hand and opened the gate of the kennel.

The Warden caught his breath for so much boldness; what if the dog was confused and attacked her? A little voice within him told him that then, all problems would be solved, but he quickly discarded that thought again. What followed than was... odd, and yet quite fascinating for him. He observed how Lenya slowly stepped forward to the dog, her expression all soft, compassionate even.

While she moved forward, the Dalish quietly uttered strange words, spoken in a very gentle tone. Seeing her acting so differently reminded Alistair more of the peaceful, sleeping woman in his arms than the raving lunatic she was in reality. Or pretended to be. He didn't know which was the truth, the lines suddenly blurring.

"Lethellin, harel'din. Everything will be good," she purred as she muzzled him. The dog made a noise that sounded like an understanding whine and eyed the elf in an appreciative way. Unbelievable. Once again she left him at loss for words, though this time actually... in a good way. As slowly as she had moved in there, she was also deliberate in her motions as she left the kennel again, almost as if she feared that fast movements would hurt the animal even more.

Alistair cleared his throat, as he noticed that he kept staring at her. "We will leave to the Korcari wilds in a few minutes. If you want, Lenya, we could watch out for the flower which cures that dog."

Her eyes darted up to his, and she simply nodded. "Why not? I doubt there will be any more than foul swamps and boring trees..."

"Ohh, don't forget the darkspawn..." Alistair chipped in, the corner of his mouth quirked up to a wry smile.

"Darkspawn, hmm? Well it seems like somehow this useless excursion suddenly starts to make much more sense to me. I love to slice those to pieces." Once again, there was that dark glow visible on her face which gave him a slight chill.

Right, dangerous, crazy woman. Don't forget that Alistair, he scolded himself.

He didn't notice that she already had left, until she was addressing him. "What are you waiting for, Alistair?"

The Warden froze for a fraction of a moment. He didn't know if he should be happy that Lenya called him by his actual name for the first time, or frightened to death because she was really looking forward to killing things. Alistair opted for a mixture of both, as he followed this little over-enthusiastic elf back to the fireplace and Duncan.

.

 

Chapter 4: Into the Wilds

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"Here we are. Or at least I'm here."

Lenya rolled her eyes, as she saw that the Warden shemlen still hadn't arrived with her where their leader stood. She hasn't walked that fast, had she?

The Grey Warden leader looked at her, still quite amused. "Where is Alistair? Have you left him with the Mabari?"

The answer came not from the Dalish but from Alistair himself. "Again, very funny, Duncan. I might have been raised by dogs but that doesn't mean I have to live with them."

"You... were raised... by dogs?" Ser Jory asked, eyes widened.

Lenya gave him a look. Unbelievable; in order to survive, she was forced to surround herself with complete idiots. Fate indeed had a cruel sense of humor.

Alistair sighed in Ser Jory's direction, drawing her attention back to the present. "That, my dear friend, is what one calls a joke."

"Oh..." the man from Highever said, before looking away.

"Anyway, since everyone is here, let me tell you what you have to do now..." Duncan started but got interrupted by an overly exited elf.

"... Kill darkspawn?" The other two recruits looked at Lenya in bewilderment for her strange enthusiasm, but she couldn't care less.

"Yes, also killing darkspawn, Lenya." Duncan sighed. "Would you listen to me for a minute?" The young Dalish made a face but nodded. "Thank you. Alistair will accompany you into the Korcari wilds while you recruits collect three vials of darkspawn blood. Furthermore, I want you to retrieve some ancient Grey Warden documents, which should still be stored in a chest near the Korcari ruins. We will need those soon."

"Oh, ancient and important. And no Grey Warden got the idea to... well… get them before? How very clever of your people." Behind her, Lenya heard Alistair chuckle at her remark before a look from Duncan silenced him.

The Grey Warden leader sighed. "The mages have complained about you, Alistair. How many times have I told you that we need to stay neutral and shouldn't provoke one side?"

"And what concerns the documents, they were safe there for the past several years, but now, with the darkspawn rising, they aren't anymore. So I want you to leave immediately; too much time has been wasted already. Here, take the map and the key for the chest." He handed those things to Alistair.

"Alright." Alistair looked back to the three recruits. "Make sure you are properly equipped. I want to depart now, and we will surely meet darkspawn there."

Daveth shuddered. "Into the Korcari wilds, brr. I've heard it's a forsaken, rough place with witches of the wild and Chasinds running around.

Lenya raised an eyebrow. Yeah, and I hope they'll eat you. "I have everything. Can we go and kill them now?" She looked at Alistair, waiting for approval. Though, as he didn't say anything, she turned on her heel to go toward the huge, heavy gate by herself.

Behind her back, she heard them whispering. "Somehow this elf is scary." It was Ser Jory's voice, letting her smirk. Good; if those shems thought she was scary, they would keep their distance. Exactly how she wanted it.

Heavy-footed steps came closer, making her ears twitch, so she turned around just to look right into Alistair's face. He looked at her intently. "Lenya, out there, I want you to wait for... my command. I'm the only one who can sense the darkspawn and when we are going to be attacked. We have to work together in the wilds or we'll fail."

The Dalish pointed with her finger at Daveth and Ser Jory. "Does this also include those two?"

Alistair blinked, confused. "Well, of course. They are part of the team."

"Oh great." Lenya rolled her eyes and turned around again, leaving Alistair where he stood.

"Hey, we can hear you, elven lady," Daveth called after her.

She didn't even turn around. "Whatever."

Alistair suppressed the urge to slap his forehead. This was a disaster in the making. He nodded to the guard, who opened the gate for them. With one last deep breath, Alistair set his foot in the wilds.

.

.

---

.

Lenya wrinkled her nose as she looked around.

She smelled the same heavy, foul air like when she was wandering through those lands with the Grey Warden leader. Withered plants entwined themselves around the countless old, huge firs and oaks, and their leaves were tinged with an eerie mixture of red, brown, and green. The sun was hidden behind a thick cloud of descending fog, which made it even harder to breath and see far from where they stood. The ground was greasy from all the moss that covered the stones and the grass underneath, and the unnatural green of the whole place hurt in her eyes.

Overall, it was a nice, cozy place Lenya couldn't wait to leave behind and never re-enter again.

"Ugh," escaped her lips, as she accidentally stepped into a puddle of smelling swamp water. She shook her foot a few times in vain, trying to get rid of that muddy water and dirt that enveloped her left calf.

"I couldn't have said it better, my lady," said Daveth, walking behind her and also wrinkled his nose. "The wilds are even worse than what I had it in mind."

Alistair grinned. "If you think that smell is bad, wait until you encounter a darkspawn."

"Hmm... I already had the pleasure, so no thank you." All the sudden Lenya stopped, tensed and drew her Dar'Misu daggers while her eyes nervously flickered around the inhospitable scenery. "Draw your weapons," she commanded.

"What, but I sense no darkspawn..."

"No, but wild animals, probably wolves. I saw them moving through the coppice just a second ago. They have been following us since we left the camp."

Alistair stared at her in disbelief, but unsheathed his sword and held his shield ready, as told. The two men behind him did the same and no second too soon. Once all had their weapons ready, five wolfs ran fast toward the group, snarling and ready to rip them into pieces.

Two wolves circled around Ser Jory, so Alistair turned to ram his shield into the massive frame of the animal, which flew back with a growl. It had no time to recover because Daveth deftly pierced its sides with his dual weapons. Ser Jory crushed the head of the other wolf with his massive sword and grunted, pleased. Hectically, Alistair turned around as he noticed that the elven woman had been separated from the group, just to see how she literally danced around one wolf just to slit its flesh lethally in the next moment with her crescentic daggers.

Alistair took care of the one animal, which threatened to spring on her back and drove his longsword through it. Nodding, she ably whirled around and slit the throat of the last animal in one swift movement; the blood sprinkled high in her direction and covered her front side.

Then there was silence again.

Lenya sheathed her daggers again and tried to wipe the wolves' blood from her face with the back of her arm. "Nothing more lovely than wolf blood, huh?" she sighed, exasperated, as she noticed how they kept staring at her in disbelief. "I literally grew up killing those. No big deal. Though the wolves in our woods were smaller." She shrugged, unimpressed, and left them standing there as she walked past.

Alistair wiped the blood from his blade before he sheathed it again and chuckled slightly. He must have looked as stupid as he felt in that moment. Her tiny, almost fragile, frame could be really deceiving, but just moments ago, it was clear to see that she could fight. Sure, it was still rough around the edges and a bit too boisterous, but the talent was visible to him.

"So this woman can really fight, ehh? ... Sexy..." Daveth's voice put him out of his temporary reverie.

Lenya walked on the top now, but Daveth's insensitive words were loud enough for her to hear, making her growl in anger. "No, I'm just here to enjoy the landscape, moron. By the Elvhenan, I really wonder how you shemlen were ever able to banish us from our lands. Maybe because you are all so tall? Well, it wasn't the intelligence, that's for sure now."

"You don't like... humans, do you?" Ser Jory questioned, unsure, as he heard her words.

"Wow, did it take so long for you to find out" Then she added, more to herself then to Jory, "No, it was definitely not the intelligence." The resigned sigh she heard from the Warden shemlen behind her amused her briefly, in contrast to the dull landscape before her eyes.

"Well, my lady, you could at least be a bit friendlier; we all have to work together here, after all," Daveth insisted.

"Sure we have to. But I don't see how this requires being friendly," Lenya muttered, and her pace fastened, suddenly more eager than ever to put more space between that human and herself. The more, the better.

Daveth sighed, nerved and exchanged a look with Alistair.

They passed a small path enveloped by foul-smelling swamps at each side, and she could tell by the scenery that something was wrong here. As if someone had been attacked. A dead ox lay beside the scattered wooden wagon, slashes and blood everywhere. That much blood couldn't have come from one single animal, however.

A bit unsure, she threw a hasty look back to Alistair, but he didn't make any move to say that darkspawn were going to attack.

The Dalish heard Daveth and Ser Jory gasping, as they discovered a few bodies lying around on the ground, the air covered with the sickening smell of burnt flesh and blood. She was right; there had been an attack. Measured on the body height of the bodies on the ground, these had been humans once. Probably soldiers, who were unlucky enough to encounter the darkspawn rather unprepared.

Lenya became suddenly aware of what she was getting herself into by becoming a Grey Warden, but it's not like she would have had any choice. Lenya sighed quietly. Sadly, it seemed like this would become a daily picture for her all too soon. The fighting, the dead bodies, all the blood. It's not that she minded killing darkspawn – for all that they have done to her – or had great compassion for the dead shemlens whatsoever. But the overall prospect of being damned to a life in human society and fighting for their peace wasn't really endearing to the Dalish. Not after all they had done to her people and race. She would never forget this.

"Let's go on. We shouldn't stay here any longer," Alistair coughed.

He turned to go but a groan and coughing from the ground stopped his motion. It was just a faint sound, but in the hollow stillness of the wild, clearly audible. Instinctively, Lenya drew her weapons, just to be stopped by Alistair, who grabbed her arm.

"Ouch, stupid human," she hissed and glared at him, while whisking his hand away. Alistair, however, ignored her rant and carefully stepped forward, pushing her behind him. From the corner of her eye, she could see how those two recruit humans came closer to them as well. Oh great.

"Is he still alive?" Ser Jory asked in a hopeful tone.

Lenya blinked as she eventually recognized the human before her, severely wounded and covered with dirt and blood, most likely his own. With the last ounce of his strength, he crouched toward them, making the elf step back in disgust.

"Grey Wardens? Thank the Maker. I was here with my scouting troop when they suddenly came out of the ground and attacked us," the man creaked with a weak voice.

"Well, apparently they were successful, hmm?" Lenya muttered from a safer distance, and three pairs of eyes shot angrily in her direction. "What?" she added.

"Please, I have to get to camp to warn them... I..." the words of the soldier were interrupted by a gurgling, as he spat a great amount of blood.

"We have to help him; I have bandages in my pack," exclaimed Alistair, who was already rummaging in the little package he had brought along.

She stepped beside him, motioned him with a shove on his shoulder to halt. "Can't you see that it is already too late for bandages? So if you haven't any skills to heal his scattered innards with magic, move away."

Alistair did as she told him and made way for her. "You… can do this? I mean, heal him?"

Lenya heaved her dagger she was still holding in her hand up and bowed down to the man. "Well 'heal' isn't exactly the term I would use but... sort of." Before any one of the three men could react, she had already sliced his throat with just one move. The soldier gave in immediately with a quiet sigh, as his blood splattered in her direction.

She felt three pairs of eyes staring at her, but all appeared too shocked to say a word. Heedless of it, she turned around to stand up and was briefly startled to see the Warden shem so close before her.

"How could y... Does the term 'insane' say something to you?" he hollered, outraged, at her face.

The elf stemmed her hands into her sides and glared up to him. "No. But do the words 'I don't care' say something to you? He was beyond saving, human. Stop being foolish."

It has been the truth, and it kind of surprised her that the warrior Alistair appeared to be wasn't able to see the shem's multiple injuries. Only magic could have saved his forsaken life, and while she was adept in herbalism, she knew nothing about magic. In fact, ending his life here and now was the most benevolent way, instead of letting him suffer any further.

Ser Jory's eyes widened as the state of shock seemed to have ceased. "By the Maker, she... she killed him." His breathing became heavier as more facts had time to proceed, and he turned to Daveth. "Did you hear what the soldier said… before... before…" He swallowed. "When a whole scouting troop has been killed by darkspawn, how can we survive the task, then? We are going to die. I can't die... my wife and my baby."

Totally ignoring the crazy antics of that human, Lenya's face suddenly brightened. "Oh, I think I found the flower for that dog." Carefully she went to an old, withered trunk, which was overgrown with moss and plants, and plucked the white flower to take it with her.

Alistair couldn't believe what he saw. "Oh hey, I just killed someone. Never mind, just look how pretty the flowers here are." He mimicked her with a high-pitched voice, while still staring incredulously at her.

"Crazy Dalish. You can't just..." Alistair heaved his hands up, groaning in frustration. "Remind me to never get injured around you."

"Oh a pity, since I'm really adept in herbal lore, which could save your life." She shrugged nonchalantly, smirking. "Can I slap him or will he stop freaking out by himself?" The elf pointed at Ser Jory, who was still rambling incoherent things about darkspawn and his wife.

Alistair's face darkened. "Okay, Lenya, here are some rules for the wild. No slapping, no killing except for darkspawn, and we are getting along pretty good. Understood?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Whoever made you boss here?"

"Uuhm… Duncan? And I'm responsible that you all come out of here alive and in one piece. So can we move on? I feel darkspawn approaching." Hectically, he scanned the area with his eyes and fidgeted with his fingers at the hilt of his sword.

"Tell that to this human crybaby, not me." Again her fingers pointed at the still distraught knight not far from them.

Alistair cleared his throat, feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the demand. "Ser Jory," he addressed him. "Pull yourself together. There are darkspawn nearby. No one is going to die, but we have to work together now, just like we did with the wolves."

"So, can you also feel how many are coming?" the Dalish questioned him while she held her weapons ready.

The Warden halted shortly and closed his eyes. "Hmm... yes, sort of. Feels like only a minor group of them, but they are coming along fast this way."

Lenya stepped aside him with a grim look at her face. "Oh, nice; you really are useful, after all. Let's kill them, shall we?"

"Uum, thanks... I guess?" He drew his weapon and shield, and then he looked back at the other two recruits to ensure they were fine as well. "And yes, good plan, so stick together and be ready." He knew that the first encounter with a darkspawn could be quite intimidating, but he hoped that Daveth, and especially Ser Jory, were able to deal with that view... and smell.

Concerning Lenya, he wasn't afraid at all; she seemed overly eager for this encounter, with the weapons twitching in her hands and the strained composure. Right before the tiny group of darkspawn attacked, he decided to watch out where her daggers were actually directed. You never knew, right?

Much to his alleviation their opponents were only mere genlocks, no stronger ones. They snarled beastly in their direction, and one of them hit the ground as Alistair charged his shield through it. Immediately, he let his sword follow and killed it, giving it no chance to recover. He turned around to see Lenya dancing around their two opponents, causing them several injuries, but the most disturbing thing was that she laughed loudly while fighting and dodging their attacks.

Laughing!

Maker, this crazy woman terrified him more and more.

He charged again, seeing Daveth assist Lenya, so he offered his help to Ser Jory, who was fighting with two darkspawn and had slowly gotten cornered. With its buckle, he pulled one back. With enough room to attack now, Jory drove his massive sword through the foul flesh of one genlock, which eventually slowly slid dead to the ground. Alistair took fast care of the remaining darkspawn and beheaded it. Looking around, he saw that Daveth and Lenya had already done the same. Covered in the black blood and gore of the darkspawn, she looked pleased to him.

"Good work, everyone." Alistair nodded. "Now, comes the unpleasant part. We need to drain them for blood and put it in these vials." He gave each of them a little vial of glass." Be careful while you do it, their blood is poisonous."

"Hah, I got one ready. And... yuck," Daveth said after a little while, and grimaced irked as he observed the black blood in the little glass.

Lenya sighed. "If I wasn't already covered in their blood, I would say that this is really the most gross thing I ever had to do. Wow, how I look forward to my life as a Grey Warden." She rolled her eyes on that and tried to get rid of some of the blood on her face.

"Well, no one forced you to be here, right? I was glad to escape those guards thanks to Duncan. They wanted to kill me, after all. And all because I have tried to steal the wrong and the right purse at the same time." He grinned at the picture in his mind. "That old man is indeed faster than he looks."

The Dalish stepped closer to him, her posture threatening, with eyes narrowed. "Actually, I was forced to be here. It's not like a Dalish like me has a great wish to participate in your stupid shem war. But since this is something I cannot change, just spare me your boring stories, or better... overall presence." Exasperated, she turned around to move forward.

Daveth only blinked at that. "And you are aware that the Blight is more than just a "stupid shem war" I hope. It concerns all races and all people of Ferelden, so even you. So while I love women with fire and attitude, stop being foolish."

Lenya didn't have expected to someone talk back at her, least of all Daveth. So she turned round, only to glare at him. "Shut up."

"Yeah, right. This is all you can say, huh?"

Sighing, Alistair took up the rear after the rather quiet Ser Jory. He knew that this was still going to be a long day.

Chapter 5: Asha'belannar

 

.

If she ever would have the chance to describe the rest of the journey through the Korcari wilds to one of her clan members, Lenya planned to emphasize the word repetitive.

Not only were they mostly running in circles due to the always identical looking environment and the inability of the Warden shem to read the map, they also encountered and killed so many darkspawn by then that the elf wondered if there were any left for the war at all. It was annoying, all of it. The place, the company, the whole task. Lenya felt her temper rising once more.

"Give me that damn map, Alistair," she said harshly to him. "By the Elvhenan, if we run in a circle one more time, I swear I'll kill you."

"Oh, and make a compass out of my bones?" She glared at him for his snarky comment. "Okay, okay. I thought that would be more inventive than simply killing me, but well... I don't want to give you the wrong ideas, oh crazy woman. I like to be alive, you know?" The Warden handed her the map, grumbling under his breath.

Lenya huffed. "What is the point of making a map, when everything looks the same anyway? This is most irritating."

"Oh, don't say that." He pointed at the tree besides them. "You see, that tree looks slightly different from that one here... if you look closely." Alistair sighed, as he saw the exasperation in her features. Again.

"Well, at least we have all three vials now; even more than that, to be honest." He attempted a wry smile. "You don't, perhaps, have some grumpy elvish friends who want to join the Grey Warden? I mean, we could hold hands, then, and sing some songs. That would confuse the darkspawn for once."

If this has been an attempt to annoy her even more, it has been successful. "Shut up," she growled under her breath as she studied the map.

Alistair rolled his eyes. "If that makes you happy." Despite her bitchy behavior, he was glad that he had been alleviated from leading the group in... well, circles. He had never been good in leading, if he was honest.

"We have to get past the bridge; I've seen it not so far from here," Daveth interjected while observing the map as well. "Then we should see parts of the ruin; if we follow them, we should get to the chest."

"Finally, an intelligent sentence came out of your mouth. Wow, I'm baffled."

"Well, it's never too late for that, my lady." The rogue smiled and winked at her.

Lenya made an irked face, but ignored him. "However, let us finally get to this damn chest; I'm tired of this place... as much as I am of your company."

"Charming like always," Alistair said with a shook of his head, as he passed her by. The elf just threw him a look but remained quiet.

They walked on, now somewhat led by Daveth, and after another fight against a horde of darkspawn, the group finally reached the destination marked on the map. Out of breath and with her muscles burning like fire, Lenya eventually discovered the appointed chest, just to see it broken... and empty.

"Oh give me a break. This can't be real now, right?" She was startled how whiny that sounded, but she had reached a point of exhaustion where she didn't care much anymore. "What is so damn important about those documents anyway?"

"Well, we need them," Alistair said lamely.

"Oh, that explains all. Thanks for enlightening me."

He opened his mouth, but didn't have the chance to answer because a woman suddenly made her appearance in the ruin above them.

"What's this? Stranger? Intruder in a place they don't belong to? Searching for items deep in the wilds? Items of the long forgotten past? Let the dead sleep where they are now."

Entranced by her slow, catlike movements as she stepped down from the ruin down to them, Lenya decided to watch her more closely. She wore a black-red dress made of feathers, leather straps and fabrics that barely covered her chest. Her dark hair was roughly pulled back in a wild ponytail but framed her fierce amber eyes quite perfectly. The ornamented wooden staff on her back indicated pretty clearly that she was a user of magic.

Actually, Lenya could literally feel the danger seeping from the witch, but that did little to cease her fascination. She had heard stories among her clan about the witches of the wild. The Dalish elves knew very well about their existence in the Korcari Wild, but never would she have imagined meeting one of them in person one day. This woman was definitely human, yet at the time there was something animal about her that the elf could not exactly place. Fact was that she was much different from all the shems she had met so far, especially those frightened idiots behind her.

Interesting.

After a moment of awkward silence, the witch raised her voice again and observed Lenya intently. "So, why are you disturbing the peace of the dead, whose bones were long dissolved into dust, I wonder?"

"Do not speak to her, she's a witch of the wild, and where they are, they are more for sure," Alistair whispered to her, yet not as discreetly as he thought it was.

"Witch of the wild? How lovely the name is." She laughed and approached forward, which made the men step back, somewhat alarmed. Lenya however, stood silently there, not leaving her spot, and continued to observe the woman. "Fantasies of men. Nothing more than legends. Can't you think for yourself?"

Instead of Alistair, Lenya was the one who answered. "Actually, no he can't. You know, what interests me more is what happened to the contents of that Grey Warden chest. I'm tired of running around in 'your' wilds for hours now, so I'm rather impatient. If you have to turn someone into a toad, start with the fools beside me." She pointed at Daveth and Ser Jory. "They are annoying anyway."

"Oh no, she will turn us into toads," the two recruits exclaimed almost in unison.

Amused by the unexpected answer, she turned back to the Dalish. "You seem to be quite unimpressed by all this, elf. But I shouldn't be surprised, since the Dalish elves know much about the Wilds themselves. I only wonder why a seemingly smart woman travels with such... simple companions."

"I wonder about that myself," said Lenya dryly.

Right behind her, Alistair sighed. "Look, I really appreciate the beginning of your bonding and all, and maybe you can exchange herbals later, but we are here now to retrieve the documents. And I don't want to linger here any longer than needed. So, where are they, witch?"

The said woman raised an eyebrow, still amused. "Oh, you don't want to stay, hmm? Fear those barbarians could swoop down on you, if you would?"

"Yeah. Because everyone knows that swooping is baaad. Especially from those Chasind Barbarians," he stated in a matter of fact, eyes narrowed.

He didn't know the woman but already liked her not one bit. She was clearly one of the apostates, those who hid themselves in the shelter of the thick Korcari Wild to be unreachable from the arms of the Chantry or the Circle of Magi, where users of magic normally had to live. The tingling of his Templar senses nearly drove him insane; the itching feeling of magic in the air was almost unbearable.

He wanted to get away from that witch as soon as possible, yet he knew he couldn't leave without the documents. They were too important for that. The idle talk those two lunatics seemingly enjoyed wasn't very helpful for retrieving them, either.

She turned to Lenya again. "Well, to me it seems that you are the only person here with some manners. State your name, and I'll tell you mine."

"You can call me Lenya," the elf said and nodded politely.

"And you can call me Morrigan, if you like."

Oh great, now they are starting an evil witch tea party, Alistair thought grimly.

"For the Grey Warden items you seek, Lenya, they aren't here anymore, I fear."

"What? B-but you have stolen them, you... evil witch-thief," Alistair chipped in, tone angry.

Morrigan laughed, amused. "Stealing from the dead, I have? Not much. Those papers you search for have been claimed by another."

Lenya crossed her arms before her chest. "Care to fill me in on who this person is, Morrigan?"

"Of course, elf. " Her yellow eyes rested on her small frame. "Was my mother."

"Well then, what are we waiting for? Can you bring me... us to her, then?"

The witch smiled briefly at her. "Hmm, what a sensible request you have there. I like you. Follow me then, if you please." She turned to go and, regardless of her other companions, Lenya didn't hesitate to follow her.

"So, the evil witch tea party continues in the house of the evil witch, with her evil witch mother? Wow, this is getting better and better. Not. What by the Maker have I done to deserve a day like that?" Alistair sighed but already submitted himself to this disliked fate as he followed the eager elf to wherever Morrigan would lead them. Probably to doom. Most likely to doom. He didn't like the prospect. At all.

"That witch will cook us in a pot, just you watch," Daveth muttered as he reluctantly moved forward with Ser Jory close behind.

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---

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The walk was not long but arduous.

Morrigan seemed to lead them further and further into the wild, where the trees towered more ominously overhead. The light was even more clouded by the thick mist and seemed to twist and dance around the group, making it even harder to breathe than before. Lenya was depite the eery scenery looking forward to whom she would meet. In contrast of the trembling cowards behind her, who whispered strange prayers to their god, she was not afraid.

After taking a last turn, the path cleared and they finally reached a withered hut. An old woman stood in front of it. She seemingly had awaited their arrival. Could this be... Lenya gasped, as she observed the old woman more closely.

"Mother, here I bring you the four Wardens..." announced Morrigan but was interrupted by her.

"I'm not blind, dear. I see them," Morrigan's mother laughed and studied each of them. "Hmm, as expected."

"Ash'belannar. The woman of many years," Lenya murmured in awe.

Now she was glad that she paid heed to the stories she had been told as a da'len. Yet she never would have thought those stories would be true. In her mind, she feverish searched for the pieces of the tale, but her memory of it was hazy and blurred.

The woman's hollow gaze rested on the elf before her and cackled. "Is that the name the Dalish elves have for me? Most charming. At least I'm not called old."

"H-how do you know that she is a Dalish?" Alistair hesitantly inquired.

Daveth shifted uncomfortable from one foot to the other. "She is a witch. We shouldn't talk to her; she will turn us into toads."

Her eyes flashed almost wickedly. "Hmm, actually I prefer to cook your flesh, so I can tear it apart from the bones." She laughed as they shuddered, frightened. "Anxious little boys, they are, hmm? Though as the young elven lady said, you don't have to be. I'm just a woman of many years."

Morrigan's mother directed her word to Alistair, who felt more than uncomfortable as well. "Due to my age, I know a couple of things, but it's not for me to decide the larger scheme of things." Her look shifted to Lenya again. "What about you, young lady? You seem not to share those human legends, or their fear of things unknown. So what do you believe?"

The Dalish narrowed her eyes, her posture unyielding. "Of course I don't share a shem's view. But I do believe that you have something we need, ash'belannar."

She laughed and looked at her daughter. "My, she's impatient like you, Morrigan. Interesting, you are, my little Dalish friend, yet so much of you is unknown still. As for the treaties you indeed came here for, I've protected them."

"You... protected them?" Alistair asked with disbelieve in his voice.

"Yes, Warden, I have. The seal was long broken before I claimed those documents."With those words she went to her hut and came back only moments later with the scrolls in her dreaded hands and handed them to Lenya.

"Here, my dear. Now you have what you want. Just remember to tell your Grey Wardens that this blight is bigger than they expect it. Or maybe they expect it. Who am I to know? I'm just an old woman, after all." She chuckled slightly before turning to her daughter. "Since those are your guests, Morrigan, lead them out of the woods, would you?"

Morrigan let out a displeased growl but obeyed to her mother's wish. "Very well then. Follow me. Again."

Lenya was pleased; finally they had all the weird things they needed to leave this pesky place behind. That, and she unexpectedly got to know that some of the stories she heard as a child weren't fairy tales at all.

Interesting.

Chapter 6: The New Clan

Notes:

A/N: Submit yourself to the taint. Or how Lenya would say: Again? XD Looong chapter ahead and...Alistair gets a nickname ;)

 

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Chapter 5: The New Clan

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Due to Morrigan's well versed knowledge of the Korcari Wilds, the party was able to reach the borders in half the time.

As soon they had arrived, the witch disappeared without a word. Sighing, and oddly regretting that Morrigan had left so suddenly, Lenya passed the doors of the Ostagar camp with her shem troop close behind. It was good to be back at camp, so she didn't have to endure their presence anymore. What concerned Alistair, well, he prattled on and on as they walked back, and even the icy glares she and Morrigan threw him did little to stop his antics about the danger of magic and his templar life.

Whatever a templar is, Lenya thought. Not that she was paying attention.

"Lenya." There it was. His voice again. Ugh. A groan escaped her lips, but she turned around. "What, human?"

"Where are you going?" he inquired. While the other recruits moved directly to where Duncan stood, Lenya took quite the opposite direction.

The Dalish rolled her eyes. "Obviously putting space between you and me. Bye." She spun on her heel again but Alistair snatched her arm. She blinked at his face, briefly startled. How could he move to her so quickly? And that constant groping of her arm! Annoying. Inwardly she swore to herself that she would cut his hand off if he kept it up.

"I'm flattered, my lady," Alistair insisted with a sarcastic tone, mouth quirked up into a wry smile, "...that you could keep up with me for so long, but the bad news is that we aren't done yet; which means you have to endure me a little longer. It'd be too bad if you missed your own Joining, wouldn't it?"

"Oh yes, almost unbearable. How could I ever live on after having missed such a glorious event in my life?" she retorted in the same tone that he did; though the look he gave her -almost a frown- when she uttered the last sentence unsettled her, so she quickly averted her eyes.

You wouldn't live on at all, he thought, and Duncan's word's rushed through Alistair's mind after hearing Lenya's. If she doesn't undergo the Joining tonight, I have to kill her.

Even though she nearly drove him insane with her rude, lunatic manners, he didn't want her to die. Nor Ser Jory or Daveth. None of the recruits, if he had his way.

There were already so many losses at the Joining, and there was no need for more. Sadly, it wasn't for him to decide who'd survive the poisoning by the darkspawn blood, and the chances of survival were always slim. But he at least wanted her to take that opportunity even though it might kill her. Either the Joining would kill her or ...Duncan, should she refuse to do it...This thought upset him even more. His eyelids fluttered, trying to dispel the heavy thoughts back into a corner of his mind.

"Let's get back to Duncan first, then later you'll have plenty of time to run away from me," he said softly, forcing a weak smile back into his features.

"Oh sure, it's not like you'd follow me then. Stupid puppy."

This time the smile reached his eyes. "Woof."

"Alright, you won't give up either way, right?" she muttered and sighed in an annoyed manner, yet turned toward Duncan's direction.

"Actually, no, you're right. I'm quite stubborn," he answered while following her back to the fireplace.

"..and annoying." She wrinkled her nose. "And you reek."

Alistair made a face. "Well, you aren't a sweet smelling flower yourself right now, but we'll blame it on the darkspawn blood. And the fact that I was raised by dogs. Big, flying dogs."

"Hmpf, that would explain many things." Lenya turned away, ignoring him. Still, somehow this annoying human made her talk, even when she didn't want to. Also she nearly smiled at the image of that shem truly being raised by dogs, because it would suit him so well - the perpetually barking and annoying puppy with big eyes that he was.

"Lenya, there you are. I see Alistair was successful in catching you. Good." She frowned. Duncan's amused tone of voice did wonders to her previous, more lightened mood, letting it shrink back into a foul one. "So tell me, were you successful in retrieving what I asked for?"

Oh great, now he's trying to be funny. She glared up at him. "As if you couldn't tell by my appearance. Or rather our appearance. Wanna have a piece of darkspawn? I think I still have some in my hair." She fiddled with her blond hair, which was now mostly tainted black-red.

The Grey Warden leader laughed. "No thanks, I fear I must refuse your kind offer. As for the items, I heard from Ser Jory and Daveth that you got them. Good work."

Lenya pouted. "Then why did you ask? This makes no sense."

Duncan sighed. "Because I hoped to hear about what happened from you." While observing this proud little elven woman in front of him, he had the feeling that it would be hard work to gain her trust. If it was possible to gain at all. Alistair's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"I think I should mention that the documents weren't in the chest anymore. When we found the chest it was broken and was empty. We were able to retrieve the documents from an old woman and a girl in the Wilds. They were both witches, probably apostates."

Duncan looked at him with a stern face. "Yes, you were a templar once Alistair, but those women aren't our business. We should instead focus on the Joining ritual. I had the Circle of Magi prepare it so we could start immediately upon your return. "

"Y-yes, of course," Alistair stammered, daunted. The Joining, the point of no return, was close now and Alistair knew exactly what that meant. One or two, maybe even all of the recruits wouldn't see the sun rise tomorrow morning.

Duncan turned to the three recruits before him. "I won't lie to you; the Joining is not without danger. This is why it is so secret. Though know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten either way." His gaze returned to his Warden. "Alistair, bring the three recruits with you to the altar in the ruins above, on the west side. I'll be waiting there."

As soon as Duncan was out of sight, Ser Jory raised his voice for the first time after a long while and was about to panic. "By the Maker, what does that mean? Even more tests? I thought I already earned my place..." His eyes widened and searched for the support of his fellow recruits.

In Lenya he obviously found none. "A place among the whiniest humans, sure. Among the Grey Wardens? Not so much."

"...but you think you have?" He retorted angrily, drawing closer to her.

The elf shrugged. "No, and I'm not eager to have it, either. I wouldn't be here if I had the choice..." then added more quietly, "...but I didn't." Lenya bit back the bitter venom she suddenly felt seething up, yet wasn't fully able to as she almost spat the proceeding words into his face. "Since it appears to me that you, stupid shem, are here on your own account, you should be the last complaining." Her voice trembled. "Back there, y-you have a family waiting for you, and know NOTHING about loss or sacrifices; so it's about damn time you were ready to make some, fool." This last word was hissed in a threatening manner before she literally stormed away, heedless of the other humans watching her, open-mouthed.

After a moment of stillness, where neither knew how to react, Alistair motioned for the other recruits to go to the area above the ruins, where the Joining would take place. The Dalish woman's behavior most definitely surprised him. She had muttered or complained before in a sarcastic and almost insulting tone, but never had he seen her so...emotional before. Acting so cold like she did all day, it was easy for him to forget what she had given up to be here.

Sighing, he led the men to their final destination... - in more than one meaning.

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---

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"Damn, damn, damn." Lenya softly banged her head on the thick trunk of the oak near the mage camp.

How could she lose her composure so easily? Why did she let it get under her skin? It must be the exhaustion... Yes, the aching and burning in her muscles from fighting and walking all day were most certainly to blame for this. Otherwise, she gritted her teeth, I wouldn't have shown such weakness to them. Lenya swore to herself that she would never provide those shems with a target again.

Still agitated, the elf looked up to the starlit sky and felt utterly alone, which she was. All of the people around her either ignored her existence, or threw her odd glances and then ignored her afterwards.

All but one.

"Young lady, what are you doing here all alone?" A soft voice made her head turn, and she saw the old mage in front of her. It was the one from this morning, which seemed like ages ago for Lenya.

Wany...no, Wynne. Yes that was her name.

Lenya looked at the woman, scrutinizing her. She was an odd human, always so …friendly, which was more than confusing to the Dalish. Such behaviour only added to her mistrust, but still, she couldn't bring herself to exactly hate Wynne. She had helped her when she could have left her lying on the ground with the high fever, and no one would have cared. An elf didn't count for much in shemlen society, after all - Grey Warden recruit or not.

That was why she'd have to grow harder and tougher, now that she was outside the shelter of her clan and in their world.

Never submit. She repeated this thought like a mantra in her head until she was able to keep her feelings at bay again.

"Shouldn't you be up there with the others for the Joining?" Wynne looked at her closely when she didn't react. "Are you alright, Lenya?"

Oh, she even remembers my name..."Y-yes, everything is okay. Just a long day," she muttered, feeling slightly confused.

The mage smiled and gazed at her blood-covered frame. "I can see that. Come with me to my tent. You can clean yourself up a bit there." Wynne shook her head. "My, Duncan is really impatient today, not even giving his recruits the chance to get rid of the darkspawn blood before the Joining."

Without giving it much thought, Lenya followed the woman to her tent. "How do you know this is darkspawn blood?" She inquired, mildly surprised.

"I might be old, my dear, but I'm not stupid. The color, the...pooh...smell, I've seen it before. Or rather, I fought against them. Not a whole group like you most likely did with the others today, but still, I have killed a few of them myself," she said and went in her tent, only to emerge a few moments later with a huge, white linen cloth soaked with water. "Since you really should go to the Joining soon and I don't want to keep you from it, this will have to suffice for now. I'm sorry." Wynne shrugged apologetically and handed her the prepared cloth.

Lenya stared at the fabric for a moment before actually taking it. The water felt refreshing on her skin and it also helped to feel at least a bit cleaner. She rubbed her face, her arms and legs with it, but winced as it made contact with her belly. Lenya looked down and saw a fresh, shallow but long scratch near her navel. It was an unnoticed and even more unwanted souvenir from one of those filthy creatures. Damn, this is going to leave another scar...

Before she could even curse about her own carelessness while fighting, a tiny blue light flickered around the wounded area and magically healed the flesh. When the light vanished, the scratch was no longer visible, nor was the stinging pain present. Lenya nodded gratefully to the mage, who simply smiled in return, as always. "It's okay, dear. Just make sure to not miss the Joining."

"Oh, I wouldn't dare miss so much fun," she remarked caustically. Why is everyone so eager about it?

Wynne suddenly pointed to a fast approaching figure in the darkness, and said amusedly, "It seems your personal escort service has arrived as well."

Out of breath, Alistair rested his hands on his knees and bent over to allow his lungs to get more oxygen. "There...you...are. We ...are ...in ...a hurry. The Joining."

Oh great. The puppy found me in the end. Lenya shrugged and pointed at him. "Obviously, you're the one that's in a hurry. I'm ...not. Well, since I had time to clean myself a bit, let's go, puppy boy." She moved forward, her feelings hidden behind a mask once again. Never submit...

Alistair's mouth snapped open, bewildered. "Puppy boy? That isn't even a proper nickname. ...It's embarrassing."

Much to his discomfort, the mage behind him start snickering. "Well, I think it's cute."

He knew this voice. How could he forget? That voice was part of what had been the most embarrassing night of his life so far, and being a person who ended up without trousers on sometimes, this meant something. Since he was blushing up to his ears, he didn't dare turn around, but he could imagine the amused look on the evil mage's wrinkled face.

No way he would face her now and give her that added pleasure. Instead, Alistair focused on catching up with this little, crazy elf who was such a huge part of his misery that day. The only salvation he found was in the thought that the day would be over soon. Fortunately.

Though, with the Joining and war still ahead, he couldn't exactly fathom how fortunate that really was.

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---

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In Alistair's and Lenya's absence, Daveth and Ser Jory couldn't do anything but wait for their return, since Duncan insisted on only starting when both of them were present. "Why is that elven woman always getting special treatment? She was the one that ran away, after all," Ser Jory growled, quite displeased.

Daveth shrugged. " So, you quit complaining about the ritual? Good thing you did, because I can't wait to get this over with so I can kick some more ugly, darkspawn butts." His speech trailed off in a hollering laughter, and the knight didn't quite understand how he could laugh at a time like this.

"You- you are not concerned in the slightest about the sacrifices the leader talked about? I have a wife back in Highever with a baby on the way. I can't afford to make such a sacrifice, no matter what that elven brat said."

Even Daveth seemed to have had enough of the man's rambling, and he tried to talk some sense into him. "You saw those creatures today. Maybe all of us will die. But wouldn't you make such a sacrifice if it saved this wife of yours? If I can help stop the Blight, I'm more than willing to make that sacrifice. You fear too much."

Jory's mouth flung open to answer, but he was interrupted by Lenya, who had arrived at that moment. Alistair, however, was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, now I'm an elven brat? Nice one, human. At least you're creative, I'll give you credit for that." She folded her arms and peered up at his larger frame.

Ser Jory felt caught. "How l-long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to hear what you said, obviously." She suddenly began to hate Ser Jory more than Daveth, and considering how much she loathed that grinning idiot, that said a lot. Looking between the grey, stony pillars and the rounded area where they stood, she could see that the Warden leader wasn't around. "Seems like I didn't miss anything, hmm?"

"No, that's because we were waiting for you. We had to..." Ser Jory spat in her direction.

Lenya rolled her eyes. "Ohh, that was most kind of you, really."

"Where is that Alistair guy, by the way?" Daveth asked since he hadn't seen him around the Dalish woman as he usually did.

"How should I know, human? Stop looking at me." She grimaced in a disgusted manner. The Warden in question came running up to where they stood, out of breath.

"I'm here," he puffed and tried to catch his breath.

"Oh puppy there you are, I thought you got lost on your way down here. But it seems like you found us." Her sarcastic sing-song voice made Alistair frown.

"Why didn't you wait for me?"

Lenya blinked, confused. "Why should I? You knew where I'd head to. There was no need."

"Rrriiight, forget I asked."

"Already done."

And here he'd been worried about Lenya while he was trying to find her? Seeing her here in her marvelous bitchiness, Alistair suddenly regretted his concern. What a fool he had been to believe there was something beneath the cold demeanor of that woman. A fool who ran across the whole camp to find her in time for the Joining, and that was how she thanked him?

Oh Maker, did she even know that the Joining was the only chance for her to survive? And if she knew ...why was she acting like none of this should concern her? It was about her life, for Andraste's sake. The more Alistair thought about it, the more this elf confused and angered him. Mostly because it seemed that he was more worried about the outcome of the Joining than the affected person herself.

He straightened up when he heard Duncan's voice. "And so we come to the Joining, at last." With confident steps, the Grey Warden leader walked over to the little stone altar with a silver goblet in his hand. Alistair knew about the contents within the goblet and soon enough the recruits would not only know as well...they would consume it.

Showtime, he thought grimly and walked over to Duncan's side.

Duncan focused his attention on the recruits. "Where you stand now, there is no turning back. You stand where all Grey Wardens once stood. We, the Grey Wardens, were founded during the first Blight, where humanity stood before its extinction..."

Lenya impatiently shifted from one foot to another and inwardly groaned. Wait, a history lesson? This is why I rushed over here? She had decided it wasn't worth listening to any further, when a few words permeated her train of thought.

"...and they drank the blood of the darkspawn and mastered their taint."

What? WHAT-? Her eyes widened and gleamed with disbelief. "I have to drink...their blood?" Her stomach heaved at those words. She suddenly felt ill. Very ill.

Duncan held her gaze and replied: "Yes, Lenya, this is what makes us into Grey Wardens. It is the source of our power."

"By drinking darkspawn blood? What a great clan you are..." The tone in her voice fazed from bewilderment to scorn.

He ignored the elf's ranting. "You will understand when you have consumed it. Though, you should all know that not everyone who drinks it will be able to cope with the taint within their body. But your sacrifices won't be for naught, so rest assured."

"Now, that is a soothing thought," she mumbled to herself, and again cursed the day where that shem dragged her to this place. And the existence of tainted Tevinter mirrors. Mostly their existence. Standing here having to choose between death by the taint that was already within her or death by drinking darkspawn blood, Lenya began to question the sense in her coming to Ostagar.

This was the cure the shem had promised her? The Dalish suddenly knew why humans were not to be trusted and Duncan was the proof. She heard the puppy Warden murmuring an oh-so-wise and ancient Grey Warden saying but couldn't focus on its words. Only something about "Join us in the shadows where we stand" made its way to her mind.

No thanks...

Aside from her general dislike of becoming a Grey Warden now that she had learned of the finer and more secret details of the Joining, she was far too occupied to be able to follow his words. The elf felt the urge to hit herself for actually believing what a shem had told her. Lenya looked at the goblet on the altar and bit her lip.

This wasn't a cure. Not in the least.

"Daveth, step forward." Daveth glanced at her one last time before he leisurely did as he was told, and took the goblet Duncan handed to him. Beside her, Lenya noticed how nervously Ser Jory fidgeted with the palm of his hands and how his feet moved from one to the other, as if he was ready to run away. For the first time since knowing this annoying human, she could actually understand his anxiety - because she felt similar. Not that she would ever show it, though.

Her eyes fixed on the goblet as Daveth took a sip. In the seconds that ticked by afterwards, the air grew tense and Lenya barely dared to breathe as she observed the results of Daveth's actions. For a fleeting moment it looked like everything would be fine as Daveth took a few steps back, but then his body cramped and convulsed profusely. He instinctively fought it for a few seconds, but she recognized the fight was futile as the man suddenly hit the ground and stopped moving. It was bizarre, even though she had wished him to drop dead so many times during the day, it was so odd to see him lying there, actually dead. It was like watching her own death scene. How it could end for her as well.

Another one, Alistair shortly lowered his gaze and sighed. He would never get used to this.

"I'm sorry, Daveth," Duncan murmured to Daveth's dead form before he turned to the knight, who was already backing away. "Move forward, Ser Jory."

His voice trembled. "N-no. I can't do this."

The Warden leader approached the man slowly. "There is no turning back." The tone in the shem's voice made her shudder briefly. It was ice cold and calculating.

"I have a wife and a baby in Highever, I can't do this. There is nothing glorious about it." The knight backed away again and eventually unsheathed his huge sword to point it at Duncan.

Although she thought he was a fool for drawing his sword, she never would have expected the events that followed. The Warden shem drew his rounded dagger and with two quick steps and the same amount of parrying Ser Jory's attacks, he was ramming his weapon into the abdomen of the man. Lenya could do nothing but shield her face with one arm to stave off the copious amount of blood splattering in her direction. She numbly watched his limp body sink to the ground.

"I'm sorry, Jory. Though, the Joining is not yet complete." Lenya felt the crazy shem's gaze fall onto her and feelings of enmity and hatred crept to the surface, mixed with utter bewilderment. Too many emotions were swarming her and she could no longer hold them at bay.

"Y-you...killed him," she screamed into his face. She knew what that meant for her - the Dalish was not stupid after all. If she refused to undergo this sick ritual of drinking darkspawn blood, the shem would try to kill her too. The proud, sturdy part of her thought 'well, let him try, he will regret it...', but the sensible part of her knew that she wouldn't stand much chance against a shem with so many years of fighting experience.

"It was necessary. I warned him about turning back. When he drew his sword I had no other choice."

"Don't come near me," the elf growled and much to her surprise, the leader actually stopped.

Tentatively, Lenya moved sideways to have more space of her own, while her mind processed the impossible situation she was currently in. The elven woman bit her lip and tried to calm her breathing down, and she eventually spoke. "So, this was the cure you promised me?"

"I'm sorry, there is no other way. In becoming a Grey Warden you will become immune to the taint already burning within you."

"Or a puddle of blood, like that shem," she pointed at Ser Jory's corpse.

"Please Lenya..." It was Alistair who raised his voice now, and their gazes met as she looked over to him. She was startled by the intensity in his big, brown puppy eyes, as if he was pleading to her rational part with just his stare. But her head was filled with too much chaos right now for rational thinking.

Her eyes narrowed after she looked away from him. "So let me get this straight," she repeated more for herself than the two men in front of her. "If I undergo this Joining, the blood of the darkspawn could kill me. If I don't do this, you...will kill me or the taint within will? Great, fate must be laughing at me now."

"This is what I meant when I said that we have to make sacrifices..."

Lenya laughed out loud, bitter and scornful. "Sacrifices? Oh shut up. You have no idea..." Her features contorted to a mask of revulsion, as she took the silver goblet into her tiny hands. "So, this is the only way to save myself, huh? Awesome. I'm just glad I haven't eaten much yet. Ugh." She hesitated a tiny moment longer before she put the cup to her lips and swallowed whatever was in there.

Tamlen, here I come, was her last thought before her mind and body were immersed in blazing flames.

He couldn't look, he knew he should, but he just didn't have the heart or bravery for it anymore. Not after the other two dead recruits. The moment that the elven woman pressed the goblet to her lips, Alistair closed his eyes and prayed to the Maker.

When his eyelids fluttered open again, he recognized that she would make it. The process of Joining was different from Daveth's, more like his own. This had been the point when he knew she would make it. Maker's breath, he thought with a sigh of relief.

Lenya was in chaos.

Her whole being seemed only to exist for pain and fire. Raw, incoherent pictures and sounds pierced her mind, making the entire, sick process even more torturous. She wanted to scream but her voice appeared lost in all those broken pieces of death and abhorrent creatures before her eyes. There was only agonizing pain left to feel. And at the point when her mind cleared again, but the torture still lasted, she thought she was going to die. Just like the other human before her. The elf hadn't even fully fathomed the thought as suddenly everything stopped, replaced by a peace of mind and easiness.

This is how death must be like. Yes I'm dying...

"Lenya? Leenyaa, come on, wake up!"

But why could she still hear the puppy's annoying voice? She opened her eyes gingerly only to see Alistair's face hovering over her. She shut them again and counted to ten before re-opening them.

He was still there. Damn.

Perfect, I'm not dead. Lenya didn't know if she should be glad, or if she should curse her strong will to live. Seeing those two stupid faces looming down at her, she opted for the latter.

"Welcome, sister. From now on you are a Grey Warden," Duncan declared solemnly. As he pulled her up from the ground, her body felt limp; there was no strength in her muscles anymore. Every part of her ached and burned, even parts she had no idea existed. All she could do was let out a grunt of pain. The Dalish needed a moment or two to steady herself on her wobbly knees again. Through the fog of her mind, she noticed that a strong hand grasped her on the underside of her arm and supported her with this apparently difficult task.

"How do you feel, Lenya?" Alistair asked, with a somewhat knowing smile on his lips.

What kind of a dumb question is that, for the Creators' sake?

Still not feeling strong enough to stand fully upright but strong enough for a glare, which she shot in his direction, she answered briefly; "Never. Felt. Better." Her mouth was as dry as dust and tasted worse...-ugh, she didn't even dare to swallow.

Alistair's grin grew wider. "Oh, be careful. Since you're able glare at me again, I may actually believe you."

Unbelievable! The stupid human is enjoying this.

His amused look faded away. "No, seriously. I'm glad at least you made it. At my Joining we only lost one and that was horrible enough."

Duncan looked at her. "Did you see any images? Because that is what most new Grey Wardens experience during their Joining."

Feeling strong enough now, she roughly whisked the hand that was supporting her away. Apparently it has been the puppy shem's one, for he looked a bit hurt at her action. The elf was just glad that the bath was still ahead. She really felt dirty from the outside and also from the inside. A lot of scrubbing would be required later, that much was for sure. She just didn't know how to get rid of the taste in her mou-

"Lenya?" The leader scrutinized her with an expression somewhere between amusement and exasperation.

Oh answer, right. She shrugged. "Don't know, maybe. I was too busy feeling like I was on fire."

He nodded in comprehension. "I see. Well, you will be able to sense darkspawn soon. All the other things you need to know you will learn in the months ahead. So don't worry."

"Wow, I just can't wait." Then Lenya made the mistake of swallowing and she was suddenly aware of what exactly the taste in her mouth was.

Remnants of darkspawn blood.

Unbelievably fast, the elf dashed past the two men and behind a pillar to give the plants there some 'special manure'.

Alistair's eyebrow quirked up, and he felt himself caught between compassion and amusement. Compassion, because he knew that it was such dreadful taste, one that she would never be able to forget. Ever. And amusement, well, with her aboard now, Grey Warden life would be most certainly anything but boring.

Wiping her mouth with one hand and looking even paler than before, Lenya drew forward. Upon seeing the way Alistair still beamed in her direction, she growled irascibly. "Don't say a single word, puppy."

At the word 'puppy' Duncan's head shot momentarily in Alistair's direction with an entertained expression on his face.

A single day of knowing him and she has already given him a rather...suitable nickname. Interesting young lady indeed.

Alistair tried to ignore the stare but couldn't hide that he was blushing slightly.

Lenya sighed in the leader shem's direction. "Is there anything else, or do you simply want to continue watching me vomit my stomach out? Oh how great it is to be a Grey Warden. I'm already enjoying this...as you can see."

Her tone was seeping with bitter and piercing sarcasm, but Duncan thought it was a good thing that she had asked for permission to leave. Albeit in her very special way. "Of course you may rest now, if you want to. Just make sure to be ready for an important meeting with the king tomorrow."

Idiotic shemlen king or not, the elven woman decided not to care anymore. "Whatever." She was more concerned with finding enough water to bathe. Maybe even enough water to drown herself.

Anything that would make the aching stop would be fine.

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---

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She didn't know how or why, but later on in the evening Lenya found herself sitting near the huge fireplace in the middle of the camp. Maybe she was simply seeking the warmth of the fire after her long but much needed bath in the nearly ice-cold water. Or maybe it was because she couldn't sleep while the incoherent but terrible images were still fresh and so deeply burned within her mind. Or maybe it was the flavor of cooked stew, which tortured her nose and her empty, growling stomach.

Maybe it was a bit of everything.

Despite the late hour, the place was still bustling with activity. People were talking and laughing. Lenya guessed that most of them were Grey Wardens and soldiers of the shem king, enjoying what could be the last night of their lives. They weren't sitting far from her, yet they were not paying much attention to the little blond elf in the corner. Mostly because she had previously chased another human away who was brave enough to talk to her. The Dalish was aware that they were eying her like a rare animal when they thought she wouldn't notice. She was not only the new Grey Warden, but she was also a woman and elvish on top of that.

Tiredly, she rubbed her face with both hands, as if she wanted to dispel those dreadful Joining images from her mind. Lenya took a deep breath, the warmth of the flames had indeed a soothing effect on her mind, but they did little to banish the sadness she suddenly felt so keenly inside.

And the Dalish knew why.

She had crossed the line and there was no turning back. Her old life became lost forever at the moment she had put that goblet to her lips. Actually it had been lost a lot earlier - when she had first set step outside the camp of her clan, Lenya should have known that she could never return. This sudden awareness burned deeply in her chest, and she perceptibly missed each and one of her clan. Lenya's gaze fell onto the ring the keeper had given her just moments before she reluctantly had to leave all the people dear to her behind. It happened only a few weeks ago, but sadly to the Dalish it already felt like a lifetime. Like another life, indeed. Her mind wandered off as she continued to stare into the dancing flames before her.

Before you leave, let your clan embrace you one last time...

This fragment of memory startled her and she refused to think on it any further, literally willed it away from her thoughts. She had to. Otherwise she would fall to pieces immediately, which was the last thing she could allow herself to do. Not in front of these people, even though they were her new clan now.

Her new clan, Lenya laughed scornfully at this thought. This was no clan; this was just a bunch of idiotic shemlen who stared in awe at her ears because they were pointy. She sighed and her shoulders sunk down to how little she felt at this precise moment.

"Here you go." A bowl of soup was almost shoved into her face. Confused, she looked up to the tall form of the apparently omnipresent puppy named Alistair.

Without waiting for an answer, said Warden prattled on. "You know, even ice queens have to eat something; especially those whose last meal was a sip of darkspawn blood."

Lenya narrowed her eyes. "What did you call me, human?"

Alistair flashed a wicked grin in her direction. "What? Oh that? Nice, isn't it? I thought giving you a nickname of my own was only fair after you gave me one."

He was rewarded with her frustrated groan. "How old are you? Twelve?"

His lips pursed in another boyish smile. "I kneeeew you would like it." Much to her complete and utter bewilderment, the shem plopped himself on a log beside her and seemed to feel comfortable about it. Idiot...

"Actually you're more like ten I think," the elf huffed and tried to ignore him. Lenya decided to eat the stew he had given her, even if it was just to silence her grumbling stomach. And since darkspawn blood as a last meal tonight wasn't really an alluring thought, she decided to deal with the overly salty texture of the shemlen soup, rather than eat nothing. The puppy beside her had grown quiet at least, which made it easier to ignore him.

Alistair simply sat beside her and watched her eat. An odd woman, she was. No matter how hungry she was, she would never ask for food. She even struggled to take the bowl he had handed her...despite her obviously growling stomach. He smiled to himself. Well now that she was a Grey Warden, that particular issue wouldn't be so easy to ignore, due to the increasing hunger, which was just one of the wonderful traits that came with the successful Joining.

The silence stretched and Lenya had nearly forgotten the human was next to her, letting her mind wander again. Out of nowhere he suddenly spoke again. Unfortunately. "Still, the Joining must have been difficult, so why are you still up, little ice queen?"

She gave no answer beside the sound of her swallowing the stew. Lenya willed herself to not throw the bowl in his direction just to make him shut up because that would have been a waste of food. And she was just too hungry for that.

"It's the images you saw, right?" Alistair noticed how she straightened up at those words and took it as confirmation. "Well, as disturbing as they are, I've been told that at the Joining they are the worst and get better afterwards. Not sure what that means in the times of a Blight, though. Since it only happens once in a couple of hundred years, I can't ask any survivors." His thoughtful expression shifted to a sarcastic one, when he added. "Wow. Aren't we lucky?"

Patience had never been a virtue for Lenya and since all the ignoring didn't seem to drive him away, she turned to him angrily. "Stop acting like you know me just because I joined your stupid clan. I only did that to save myself. Nothing more."

The smile he flashed her irritated her even more. "Aww and I here thought we could be friends now. You know Grey Warden fraternizing and all. We've even exchanged nicknames. What a bummer."

Lenya rolled her eyes. "Get lost, puppy. Go and play with your stupid human friends. Or couldn't they endure you? Hmm, I wonder why that is."

Suddenly serious again, Alistair stood up from the log. "Nevertheless, try to find some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day as well. The war is still ahead." With stretching himself and yawning loudly, he successfully destroyed that serious facade all too soon again.

"Whatever," the Dalish muttered after him, but the Warden was already gone. Finally. Still, in his annoying way he was right- she really needed to sleep soon. Otherwise she wouldn't last long on the battlefield and she didn't drink that disgusting stuff only to die tomorrow.

No way.

Sighing, Lenya eventually picked herself up from where she sat and retreated to her tent. Hopefully she was tired enough to be able to block out the pictures from the Joining.

There was so much the new Warden still didn't understand and while she mulled over several things on her way to bed, she completely forgot about the thoughts that had previously weighed so heavily on her mind.

Chapter 7: (Not so) Important Warden Business

Notes:

A/N: Yes, Lenya is meant to be the moping, human hating brat she is right now. I like my character flawed and let them learning from their mistakes thereof. So yeah, I'm doing this on purpose (she will change in her way during the story).

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Lenya awoke from a sound and deep sleep - which was rather ironic considering the images of the Joining had haunted her late into the night.

For a split second she even thought the whole Grey Warden story was just a crazy dream she'd had. Though as her eyes focused and she became aware of the blue color of her tent, and as the loud voices of shemlen talking about the war reached her ears she realized that it hadn't been a dream, and was sadly reality. The Dalish groaned as she tentatively got up. It seemed that waking up with a headache was one of the new habits she'd adopted since entering the human world. Drinking darkspawn blood had been icing on the cake of doom.

As she gathered her few belongings to get ready for whatever disaster the day would bring, her gaze fell upon the almost withered white flower pressed between her Dalish armor.

Right, I almost forgot about that dog.

After she got dressed the elf decided to visit the ugly yet somehow cute creature before meeting with the foolish shemlen king. What fun it was to be a Grey Warden.

With a sigh, Lenya pulled the flap of her tent aside to step outside, only to regret it moments later. The sun already floated high in the sky and flashed its light in blinding rays in her direction, making her blink and groan almost simultaneously.

Had she really slept that long?

Either way, she needed a moment to get accustomed to it before she turned in the direction of the Mabari kennels. People around her moved about hectically in camp, orders were barked, and the atmosphere seemed tense overall. As much as she tried to ignore it, it was perfectly clear that today was the day the war would take place. Lenya stolidly passed all the frantic humans before she finally reached her appointed destination.

Emotionless and without greeting, she handed the flower to the kennel master, who stood in front of the cage that held the sick dog. "Here's the flower you asked for."

The man blinked and looked down at the plant that had been handed to him, looking slightly confused. "It- it's withered."

Lenya shrugged. "Well it is the flower you need, right? I hadn't time to pluck it freshly, human. I was too busy with surviving out there in the Wilds." And running in circles.

"Ahh, yes. I'm sorry for being so rude, Grey Warden. Of course you had more important business to attend to. I guess this one will do fine."

The elf scrutinized him, still without visible emotion. Why is he so friendly all of a sudden? Humans are odd. "So will the dog be okay now that you have that?"

"It's not a dog, exactly. It's more than that; a Mabari to be exact, my lady," the man corrected her.

"Whatever. Four feet and a muzzle. To me it looks like a dog," she answered, unimpressed.

"Yes indeed, but a Mabari is more than just that," the kennel-master insisted and pointed at the animal within. "A Mabari is far more intelligent than a mere dog. Now that you brought me his medicine, he can get imprinted on you. He has no master, so it's possible." When he saw her puzzled face, he added, "Imprinting means that he will only follow you, and attack whoever or whatever is attacking you. A Mabari is a warhound who specializes in fighting and is loyal to the end."

The Dalish woman inched closer and looked over the fence at the animal that still seemed to be in pain. "Actually, I kind of already have a puppy following me around." Lenya mumbled more to herself than to the man.

Not that it's of the intelligent variety.

Though one word the man had said got her attention, and her eyes grew wide and pleased. "Fighting? Like ripping darkspawn apart?"

The kennel master tried to look unperturbed, but the woman in front of him obviously took great joy in fighting and it kind of ...disturbed him. "Y-yes, my lady. If he's imprinted on you, he'll attack whatever you tell him to. He will protect you, no matter what."

Lenya was pleased. She was already picturing how that cute little doggy of hers- well okay, he was not that little- would chase the hell out of that puppy shemlen...and any other shemlen that annoyed her too much. A wry smile played across her features and she made her decision. It seemed to her that possessing one's own personal wardog could be... fun. "Please do so, then." She nodded, and then her brows knitted in confusion. "But...how does this work, anyway?"

The man laughed. "Don't worry about that, Grey Warden. Just come back here once the war is over. In the meantime, do you have a piece of cloth that has your scent?" Lenya's eyes narrowed visibly. "I-I mean for the Mabari. To speed up the process of imprinting, of course," he added hastily.

"I...see." Lenya reached for the little bag fixed to her side and rummaged through it. With her few belongings and rather scant armor there was not much she could spare. She held a tiny piece of linen out and looked at it wistfully. It was a handkerchief Tamlen had once given her. The handkerchief she had held close to herself during the nights at camp on the way to Ostagar, the pain of losing everything had been too much to bear.

Maybe it was time to let go of it.

She didn't need a constant reminder of what had been lost. Not when her heart and mind admonished her so frequently already. "Here." Reluctantly, Lenya handed the cloth to the man and turned on her heel, not looking back.

That dog had better be worth it.

"Th-thanks." The kennel master watched after her, puzzled for a moment. He decided to brew the antidote for the mabari and begin with the imprint.

She didn't even want the reward for the flower, he thought and shook his head.

Elves are weird, indeed.

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---

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Lenya berated herself to stop her impulsive walk, which she eventually did.

Still, she needed a moment to calm down again. It seemed that letting go of that ridiculously tiny piece of cloth had an irritating emotional effect on her. Not that it surprised her much - the handkerchief had been a gift from Tamlen - but she couldn't afford to get mushy about such a little thing. The time would come when she could stop and grieve for him, but not now, when the primal goal was to survive the day.

The day of war.

As Lenya turned around the corner, she once again mused about the irony of being saved from the taint...by being tainted anew in the Joining yesterday. As much as she had wished that she wouldn't survive the process, her strong will to live had proven her wrong.

Now it was simply time to continue. She had to stay strong...if not for herself, then for him. She owed Tamlen at least that much. The Dalish didn't know where to go, there was no place she belonged to here at camp; and the puppy hadn't given her any directions on where to actually meet the idiot king. Or when.

She sighed.

That was so typical of him, the noisy and annoying human, who acted without thinking at all. She must have done terrible things to make the Creators punish her with such an idiotic companion. Still as bothersome he was, strangely, when he was around her she only felt half as alon- ...Lenya shrugged the thought off, irked with herself.

"My child, do you want the blessing of the Maker for the war?"

Lenya looked up and was suddenly aware of where her aimless wandering had led her. Before her stood an elder woman in a simple robe who smiled warmly at her, while four huge warrior shemlen kneeled down, obviously praying.

Lenya huffed derisively. "There is nothing your god could give to me." Out of the corner of her eye, Lenya saw how the priest turned red with anger and heard how she muttered words like 'blasphemer' and 'impudent elf', and it amused her greatly.

Though Lenya only spoke the truth, it appeared to be a touchy topic for humans. Why should she pretend to believe in a shemlen god? Just to please them? She wasn't one of those flat ears, after all.

Once the elf had put enough space between her and the strange human religion, she looked around, unsure of what to do next. Neither the leader nor the puppy shem were to be seen anywhere, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but it was somewhat weird. She had become so used to being pushed and pulled around by them in the past few days that freedom felt foreign to the Dalish.

She still expected them to pop up out of nowhere any minute. Ugh. But instead there were only unfamiliar faces passing her by, now greeting her politely with 'my lady' or 'Grey Warden' – where they hadn't regarded her at all the day before. Funny how much difference a sip of darkspawn blood can make in their view of her.

Humans were so predictable...and pathetic.

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---

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While pouring over the busy and crowded place, Lenya picked out a familiar face after all. Well, sort of. The quartermaster who had become acquainted with her daggers not long ago stood at his usual post and tried to look busy. Lenya searched in her bag for money, but much to her dismay she only found a few coins. Apparently darkspawn weren't the wealthiest creatures in Ferelden, but she was at least able to loot a few silver from their corpses.

And the man would surely give her a discount if she asked nicely, right?

With a honey-sweet smile on her lips she approached the merchant. "Hello."

"Ack," was all the man was able to articulate as he gaped at his own personal nightmare standing before him. "W-what do you want?" He tried to hide his fear, but failed miserably.

"You are a merchant, right? Merchants sell things. I have money..." Lenya pronounced each word slowly and deliberately, much the same as she would were she speaking with a child.

Pointing out the obvious didn't do much in quelling the merchant's discomfort. "O-of c-course, my lady. What can I offer y-you?"

Half-smiling at the shem's frightened reaction, she looked over the goods he had displayed near his carriage. She wasn't sure what to get, but anything that helped her to survive the day would be fine. After some quiet contemplation - which made the man only more nervous - something caught her eye. "This sword, here," she pointed at a common, but well crafted, one-handed iron broadsword.

"S-sword?" the man repeated, as if he needed time for the request to sink in. "Y-yes. That is indeed a good choice." Reluctantly he handed her the weapon, his hands shaking.

Lenya tested the weight of the sword in her hand, unsure of which hand to take it in. It was definitely heavier than her dagger, but not too heavy for her right hand to wield. She unsheathed the other dagger and tried to wield it together with the sword. It was odd and she felt a bit clumsy with the unfamiliar weapon in the other hand, but all in all it worked. She would have better reach in battle when armed with a sword rather than only her daggers. Also, for a shem weapon this was decently crafted and balanced. Nothing could match the crafting her people produced, of course, but it met her current need for pointy things.

Contented, the elf glanced up from her appraisal, only to be met with a pale human face, ridden with sweat. She smiled. Seems like getting a discount will be easy.

"I want this. How much?"

He swallowed. "T-Together with the fitting sheath...forty silver."

Lenya held his gaze, unflinching. "I'll give you...uhh... fifteen. That's it."

"WHAT? That's a rip off..."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm a Grey Warden now, human. Selling this sword to me might save your filthy life. So it's time for a massive discount, don't you think?" It wasn't actually a question - it sounded more like a threat, which was exactly how the Dalish had intended it to sound. Seeing as the human had become even paler than before, it had the desired effect. "Fifteen. That's my last offer." To emphasize her words, Lenya started to stare him down.

"Isn't that sword a bit too big for tiny ice queens?" She knew that amused voice. She didn't even need to turn around. In fact, said voice raised her hackles and made her groan almost simultaneously.

Alistair came to her side and grinned. "Yes, I'm pleased to see you too." He craned his neck and recognized the nervous and sweating man in front of her. "I see you've learned your lesson. Now we're only threatening merchants with words, are we? Now that's progress."

"Mind your own business, would you?" She hissed at Alistair without breaking eye contact with the merchant. "Fifteen." She repeated in the man's direction. "I killed a lot darkspawn for this amount."

Regardless of the staring contest she was having with the merchant, Alistair rambled on. "I was just walking by and got curious about what women like to shop for. Obviously swords are on the list of favorites. Well, at least on yours. ...He doesn't have cheese, does he?"

Lenya did what she did best since she'd met the human; she ignored him. Instead she focused on getting her intended discount. "Or maybe I should take it for free? After all you have insulted a Grey Warden. Not good for business. Especially when a war with darkspawn draws near." The corner of her mouth quirked up to a menacing smirk, and her eyes sparkled darkly.

Alistair heard the merchant swallow hard and could fully understand his reaction. That woman could be scary at times...

"J- just take it, would you?" He said between gritted teeth. "I can't believe I got ripped off by an elf."

Pleased, Lenya took the sword and sheath from the trembling hands of the merchant. Instantly her expression shifted from dark to happy. "Most kind of you to support the Grey Wardens for free." Then she turned to Alistair. "See, I got my discount!"

Alistair raised an eyebrow, but couldn't hide the amusement in his voice. "Discount? You rather robbed him..."

"Whatever. I got my sword and that is what counts." Proudly she observed her new, beloved object.

He gazed at her suspiciously while she whirled her new weapon around. "So you really like swords, huh? Wow. That's...uh... nice." And here I thought women were more into jewelery...

Lenya stopped her practice and smiled. "I love the weight of steel and iron in my hand. This one is heavier than the ones I know but that's fine."

Humans can't handle ironbark after all, she thought wistfully.

Absentmindedly, the elf stared at the silver blade. "In my clan it's more common to use the bow to fight and hunt, not swords or daggers. Because bows are thought to be more graceful and fitting; the Vir Bor'Assan – the way of the bow ... but I never understood why. The way you learn to wield it matters, and this can be graceful too." Her expression changed to an almost melancholic one."...And where that is concerned, I learned from the best."

Alistair's mouth hung open for a moment. He was baffled to hear so many words out of her mouth and to see her...actually smiling. Only, the fact that talking about swords elicited such a happy reaction from her disturbed him a bit.

"Besides...it helps to kill things faster," she added with a dark scowl, now looking at him.

Okay, it is more than a bit disturbing.

"I see," he managed to say and made a mental note to never make her angry. The more the Warden learned about her, the odder the elven woman seemed to be. Which didn't make her any less interesting in a bizarre, 'I love to kill' way. Yet Alistair had the feeling that there was more behind the ruthless, crazy attitude.

Or at least he hoped so.

Being a Grey Warden just like he was meant he would most likely spend more time with her. Duncan had said that he'd be training her after the war himself. But Alistair just couldn't decide if more time near her unpredictability was a good thing or not...

Lenya's voice pulled him out of his thoughts. "So puppy, haven't you got better things to do than annoy me?"

Alistair gave her a wry smile. "To be honest? No. Duncan is preparing our brethren for the fight and he sent me to get you for the meeting with the king." He was momentarily distracted by the thick clouds which had begun to cover the sun, and he looked up." -Uhh, look at the sky, seems like a thunderstorm will be here soon. How very fitting for the battle huh? Really, nothing can come close to fighting darkspawn while the rain is soaking through every pore of your armor. ...Lovely. "

She stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "Why does that shem always send you to get me? Are you the only Grey Warden around? It's odd." The Dalish paused a moment before she added. "Or does he send you on errands because you are so disposable?"

He clutched his hand over his heart and feigned a hit. "Ouch, that hurt, lady. No really, as I said, I was responsible for the recruits..." Alistair's face darkened at the thought of the two men they'd lost." ...and since you are the last recruit of the three – and now the latest Grey Warden – the task fell to me today."

Lenya rolled her eyes. "Oh, just wonderful."

Alistair laughed at her blunt way of showing her annoyance. "Yeah, isn't it? Just wait until those wonderful tasks are passed on to you; though first we should try to survive the day."

"I agree with that. I didn't drink this disgusting stuff just to die today." She said, her tone determined and a bit forward.

Another smile. "Good to hear. So, ready for the meeting now?" Alistair had already started moving in the intended direction, but when Lenya didn't follow him, he stopped.

She pursed her lips. "No. I haven't eaten a thing yet. I'm really hungry. Stupid king can wait."

Alistair couldn't decide whether to find her behavior cute or childish. At that moment he opted for the latter, so he sighed. "Unfortunately, that's not the way things work. It's more like: the king calls and we come. That's why we're here in Ostagar. The king has summoned us – the Grey Wardens. Besides, if you make the king wait, then bad things will happen. He'll start to cry and stomp his feet on the ground and believe me...you don't want to see that."

He smiled in her direction. "It's not like the war will start immediately after the meeting. We'll probably have five minutes afterwards, I suppose. So I'll get you something to eat once the meeting is over. I promise."

"Are you done now? Alright, let's go then, human. If the idiot shem king wants to play war, he better be good at it."

Suddenly remembering the blind enthusiasm the foolish king showed on that one evening, Lenya didn't have much hope of that.

Chapter 8: Calm before the storm

 

.

"Okay, where do we meet the human king and why do I have to attend the meeting at all? I've only been a Grey Warden for a day; it doesn't make any sense..."

Lenya was not pleased with having to skip her meal just to see the shem king again.

Alistair's brows knit and he slowed his pace in order to face her. "Well, I actually hadn't thought about it to be honest...maybe because we'll get some cake, and since there isn't enough cake for every Grey Warden, we're the only ones invited besides Duncan?" He grinned at Lenya, but she only responded with a frown and a growl. She was growing increasingly frustrated. "Not funny? Aww, I was just trying to lighten your bad mood, ice queen."

"Can't you ever give a simple answer?" Fed up by his antics, the elf sped up her pace and passed him by despite not knowing where she actually had to go.

"Alright, then here's the serious version." Alistair sighed and cleared his throat. "I was told by Duncan that we should meet his Majesty at the north side of camp – to discuss a special strategy. I just hope he doesn't intend to keep us off the front lines," he murmured, then added thoughtfully. "Oh and Teryn Loghain will be there too."

The Dalish woman rolled her eyes, her tone seeping with sarcasm. "Special strategy? Now, that makes me feel really special. Anyway, why should I care about that shem?" She added, while moving more slowly to give him the lead again.

"You mean Loghain? Right, you probably haven't heard of him, eh?" He turned to face her and saw that she simply arched an eyebrow by way of reply. "Okay, I'll take that as a no. Teryn Loghain is Ferelden's war hero and an exceptional strategist. He will most likely be the key to the war today. With him on board, we can't lose," he said and tried to give weight to his words with exaggerated gestures.

"Oh wow." Lenya said flatly, obviously not sharing his enthusiasm. "Well, he better be, because that king looked anything but strategically savvy to me. He seemed more... like an idiot."

Alistair stopped and something inside of him snapped. "Maker, woman, you are never satisfied with anything, are you?" He shiik his head, frustrated. She was asking him to answer her more seriously, but refused to do so herself. Or had she been serious about what she'd said about the king? When it came to Lenya it was really hard to tell, if not impossible.

Lenya stopped as well, a bit baffled, yet trying not to show it. That he responded more seriously and actually sounded annoyed was something the Dalish woman hadn't experienced so far. "If I could get something to eat...maybe I would..." she answered honestly, even though she knew his question had been more rhetorical.

Oh, so hunger is to blame for her foul mood?

He knew how dreadful that could be, especially so shortly after the Joining. Alistair couldn't suppress the laugh, which bubbled up in his throat. "Fair enough. Maybe if we're lucky, there'll be cake for real." Her head snapped at him, glaring; which made him raise his hands defensively.

"Hey, I'm just saying."

It wasn't really a long walk. Just through the main camp and a few turns left, actually. But when Alistair decided to start humming a melody that was as off-key as possible after they had stopped talking, it felt like days to Lenya; torturous, ear-bleeding days. Never had she cursed the fact that her ears were more refined than humans except in those long drawn out minutes.

She swore that if they didn't reach the meeting point soon, she wouldn't be able to refrain from stabbing him in the back. Thankfully they arrived at their destination. The load, discussing voices that came from the humans in front of her were soothing in comparison.

"Loghain, this is my final decision. I will fight alongside the Wardens in this war." She recognized the blond shem in this shiny armor. It was the king, heavily gesturing to another ...older human beside him. Obviously engaged in what appeared to be an argument, they had yet to notice their arrival. Alistair threw a confused glance over to Duncan, who just shortly nodded in return.

"You risk too much, Your Majesty. Think of your country. Your duty is too important and the war too dangerous for you to play hero on the front lines." The older shem's words made sense to Lenya, yet his voice raised her hackles and she felt uncomfortable just hearing it. Almost as much as Alistair's humming. Almost. She turned to said Warden and pointed at the man in the heavy silver plate armor. "Is that Loghain?" Now Alistair looked confused and nodded.

"I don't like him," she muttered in a low but assertive tone, eyes narrowed.

"...you shouldn't forget who is king here." Due to her little exchange with Alistair, she missed most of the back and forth between Loghain and the king, only catching the last snippets of it.

Seems like the oh-so-nice boy king is baring his teeth now to get his way.

Lenya wondered if he would start to stomp his feet on the ground to make himself clearer. She wouldn't be surprised.

Loghain covered his face with his armored hand, seemingly vexed. "I'm just glad that your father Maric isn't around to endure your talk. The Orlesians have enslaved us for a century, have you already forgotten that, Cailan? This thing you're fighting for is a fool notion."

Oh, shut up.

Those words ran through her mind while she listened to the shem. Not surprising to the elf, she still stood waiting for them as unnoticed as air, wasting her time when there were much more interesting things she could be doing in the meanwhile. Testing her new sword, for example. Or eating. Trying to get an even better discount from the scared merchant. She smirked.

But most of all; eating. By the Elvhenan, she was so hungry that even the herbs growing on the side of the ruin looked appetizing to her.

"So since we're not waiting for reinforcements from the Orlesians, then our troops will have to suffice, right?" A complacent smile played upon Cailan's features as he said this. Frustration etched into Loghain's face, but only briefly. It was so brief that Lenya couldn't tell if it was just her imagination - which was as bored as the rest of her. She'd even toyed with the thought of singing in order to be recognized, but then the shem king finally turned around. To face Duncan of course, but it was a start.

"Are your people ready for the war, Duncan?"

Duncan nodded briefly. "They are, your majesty. They are."

Then the king turned to her. By the Creators, after an eternity he finally decided I'm worth of his attention. I'm so lucky. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes at this thought. "And you are the recruit I met a few days ago, right? I think congratulations are in order."

"Thank you. I'm so unbelievably happy. I think I am the happiest person in the world right now." Everyone with at least one functioning ear could easily tell that the tone in her voice was more than just a little sarcastic. It was nearly derogatory. Duncan let loose a dissatisfied groan and looked at her sharply. This was easy to ignore for the Dalish – though the same could not be said for Loghain…and the way he looked at her…Lenya knew that look; she had seen it many times before in the faces of the shemlen these past few days. It was the 'what- do- you- want- inferior-elf' – look, and seeing it carved into Loghain's face gave her the creeps.

No, she really couldn't stand him.

Cailan's harrumphing broke the awkward silence. "Well, you should be honored that you have joined their ranks, because every Grey Warden is needed now."

Loghain sighed exaggeratedly. "Your tendency for glory and tales will be your downfall, Cailan. We should concentrate on reality."

The king shrugged, his golden shoulder plates clinked with the movement. "Fine, the strategy then. Speak your mind, Loghain. The Grey Wardens and I will draw the darkspawn's attention by charging our lines. Then what?" He looked at the Teryn. Together they walked over to the table where a map had been lain out and they bent over it.

"It's simple, really. My men will remain under cover, and once the nearby beacon has been lit it will signal us to charge," Loghain explained and pointed to the strategy map.

Lenya sighed.

It was nice that both of these humans spent such happy bonding time together and discussed...whatever they were discussing, but the Dalish was slowly losing her patience. Which hadn't been in abundance to begin with - but after standing there for another couple of minutes she really grew annoyed. Why must humans always talk so much? Her hunger was so distracting that it made it difficult to follow their discussion any longer.

"To flank the darkspawn, yes. Lighting the beacon? It's in the tower of Ishal, if I remember correctly. Who should do this task?" Cailan asked, while still bent over the map.

Tasty meat...

The Teryn looked up and directly at Cailan. "It's not a difficult task, but a vital one. We must be sure that the beacon is lit at the right time."

with fresh herbs...

"Alright, then send Alistair and the new Warden to the tower of Ishal to light the beacon. That way we can be sure that it gets done."

and bread...WHAT? New Warden? Lenya was dragged out of her food dream when she heard her name...or sort of.

She looked up at the king, confusion marring her features. "Err...just to make this clear, shemlen: you want me to walk up a tower …to light a fire? ...With him?" She pointed at Alistair. "This is your special strategy? Wow."

Before Cailan could say anything, Duncan intervened. "Lenya, have you been listening at all? This is a vital task that needs to be done and if the king says you both need to do this, then you will do it. Are we clear?" He threw her a warning look but the elven woman was unimpressed.

Something inside of Lenya snapped, which made her willing to confront the leader. She placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes. "Why don't you send Alistair alone? He's always doing stupid errands like that..."

"Hey!" Alistair shouted indignantly. "Although, I have to agree I'm not happy that you plan to keep us off the front lines. Also I don't get why you need two Wardens to hold a ...torch? That doesn't make sense."

Alistair was obviously upset, his voice louder than usual. The direction that this whole special tactic discussion had taken was really bothering him. During this whole time, the one thing he wanted more than anything was to fight alongside Duncan and his brethren. And this desire had been destroyed by not only Duncan, but the king himself. This was hard to swallow for the normally good-natured man.

"Grey Wardens." Teryn Loghain huffed derisively at the arguing group of Wardens before him and turned to the king, murmuring to him in a low tone. "Just look at this, Cailan. Are they really capable? They are questioning your - and their leader's - decision. This only shows that you trust them far too much, and too easily."

"Enough!" Duncan barked loud enough to silence the two Wardens before him. "Orders have been given. The king's orders, I might add. And BOTH of you will follow them." His stern look left no room for discussion. Alistair looked down, a bit ashamed of his own sudden outburst and Duncan's fierce reaction, while Lenya simply bit her lip, saying nothing. He took a deep breath before turning back to the royal man. "Your Majesty, during the battle you should consider the possibility that the archdemon will show itself..."

"There were no traces of a dragon in the Wilds," Loghain interjected quickly then looked at Duncan. "And even if that were the case, that's what your men are here for, right? Assuming they actually do know their place and purpose, of course." His gaze fell upon Lenya, disdain sparked in his eyes." Especially this woman here."

However, upon feeling Loghain's stare burning into her side, the Dalish was only glad to return the favor and glowered back with her own display of burning hatred. Since her arrival this shem had made it all too clear that she was a lower form of life in his eyes. The few times that the human had regarded her at all were enough for her to recognize that fact, and it made her furious. Since he was standing close to her, Alistair sensed her tension and rested his armored hand upon her arm to keep her from doing stupid things.

Even more stupid things.

She made a face and brushed his hand away, but eventually relaxed a bit again.

Duncan sighed deeply. "Yes, we are here for that, Teyrn...and your Majesty. And I assure you that we will fight with full strength against the darkspawn."

"Good," the king concluded. "Then we'll proceed as planned. The Blight will end here and now. I'm looking forward to this glorious battle." Excited by his own words, Cailan balled his fist in the sky, eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Loghain turned away from his king, his expression unreadable as he agreed with him. "Indeed glorious, my king. Glorious for us all."

.

.

---

.

"Well, that was...refreshing," Alistair remarked with sarcasm and sighed heavily, as he sat himself down on a log near the perpetually-burning fireplace.

Lenya did the same, though she was unusually quiet. She was just content to be able to sit down and feel the warmth of the flames against her skin after the annoying and loud lecture about responsibility and the Grey Warden code. In some ways it had been even more mind numbing than all of the boring history lessons Hahren Farvel had given put together, and that meant something. She wagged her head. Humans really seemed to love talking – even more than the storyteller of her clan, which was... disturbing.

After the moment of unusual tranquility had passed, Lenya looked up to Alistair, who stood before her, and he appeared somewhat sad. His head hung low and his broad shoulders sagged down in a perfect pouting posture.

"Guess you won't be playing war hero today, huh? Well...neither will I. So what..." She shrugged nonchalantly before mentally berating herself for making the comment. She had actually tried to cheer him up. Damn the sad puppy look of that human – she just couldn't stand it. "So, can we eat now?"

That made him smile a bit, though only for a fraction of a second. Alistair was still too distraught about the former events to feel cheery again. Never had he been at the receiving end of Duncan's wrath before, and he knew now why he had been glad about this fact. After Duncan had said what he had needed to say, the leader had returned to his usual calm self and wished them the best for this rather...ridiculous task. His final words before he left echoed in Alistair's mind again.

Remember that both of you are Grey Wardens now. I expect you to be worthy of that title.

Alistair swore to himself to keep that in mind.

He wanted nothing more than to be a worthy Grey Warden that Duncan could be proud of. Though, with this tiny troublemaker on his side, this task had become much more difficult. He sighed once again before eventually raising his voice. "So lighting a beacon, huh?" The Warden half-smiled at the woman. "Not the most glorious task but one that must be done."

Lenya rolled her eyes. "Yes, Duncan already explained that... in far too many words."

Now his smile grew bigger. "True. But you weren't entirely innocent in getting us lectured. You really like...trouble, don't you?"

The Dalish pursed her lips, her expression defiant. "No, I just don't like to be pushed around, or to be treated as a lower being – just because I'm elven."

This statement only caused Alistair to tilt his head and his eyes blinked in confusion. "Who said that? We've never seen you in that way!"....Or had he? No, thinking back, Alistair was sure that he had never looked down on her because of her origin. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn't even thought about it. Not only because every human that treated her poorly would have had a taste of her daggers all too soon – like that merchant – but also because it was simple common sense. At least for him.

Then her agitated reaction toward Loghain came back to him and realization dawned in him. "You are still upset about the meeting with the king and the Teyrn, right? I guess nobles aren't quite accustomed to someone that talks back at them in such a vehement and stubborn way." He snickered, actually amused now. "So it had nothing to do with you being a Dalish."

Nor does it matter to me. A Grey Warden is a Grey Warden and a crazy woman is crazy, independent from her race.

His grin flourished a bit more at this thought.

Lenya turned away from him. "Like I care," she huffed flatly.

The humor in Alistair's face slowly faded again. "You make it really difficult to like you. You know that?"

"I never told you to like me, human. So don't act like we're friends. We are not," Lenya stated as a matter of fact.

Alright, the ice queen is back in camp. "Hmm..." Alistair started, an impish expression graced his features "...and yet you're here and skipping out on the run and hide part, which you loved to do so much earlier. I really appreciate that, though. It would be hard to find you later in between all those darkspawn."

"I'm just here because you promised me something to eat." As if her stomach wanted to put emphasis on her words, it growled at that moment.

"Now that's one thing you haven't forgotten about, even through all your other complaints." Alistair laughed, raising one eyebrow. "I know the hunger can be annoying. You'll get used to it. Hopefully." In one swift motion he rose from his seat. "Just wait here and I'll see what I can get. Don't run away. Think of the darkspawn," the Warden added in a half mocking fashion before he turned to leave.

Lenya didn't have any intentions of moving at all, so she simply watched him disappear into the crowd. A cold breeze rushed around her small form and she shivered despite the warmth of the fire. She embraced herself and rubbed the naked part of her arms above her leather gloves to warm herself up. The Dalish woman wasn't normally someone who got cold easily, but the wind had become harsh in the past hours.

It was unusually cold today, as if the Creators were aware that the place where she sat would be covered in blood in just a few hours. Lenya sighed and rested her chin in her hands. A week ago she was still hunting in the woods with Tamlen and blissfully unaware of the world and war outside the borders of her clan. And now she was right in the middle of all this chaos, and it would become worse once the horde of darkspawn charged. Lenya felt like she'd been thrown to the wolves. It was all too much, and she'd had no time to adapt to her so-called new life.

She startled up upon hearing Alistair's voice, whose head was pointed toward the sky as he spoke.

"Greeeat, the clouds are growing thicker by the minute. We really will have fitting weather for the war, huh? Well at least we won't be freezing when we light the fire for the beacon. Should be warm and cozy after that. At least that's something positive about the whole 'don't-fight-along-us'- thing." Then with a grin he turned to the elven woman and added in a cheery voice. "I'm baaaack. Did you miss me?"

Lenya let out a displeased groan as her answer. "I'll take that as a yes, because I brought food. It's not cheese – sadly – but in times of war you need to grab anything you can...and run. Rule number two. Just directly after the rule describing the part where you should try to stay alive. Here..."

With a contented smile, Alistair handed her a plate overloaded with bread, and pieces of dried meat on it. "This is called 'the Joining' ration. Hope it will sate your hunger a bit. Aaaand I was even able to talk someone out of eating the remaining stew, so this is an added plus." After the plate, he handed her a bowl with steaming soup in it.

She blinked, profoundly confused, before regaining her composure again. "So... you annoyed people to get all of this food? Wow, you must be really good at that."

"Well, that's not how I would describe it...but yes," he admitted eventually. Lenya began to eat, but the human continued to stand in front of her, watching her as she ate. She scrutinized him for a moment and found it quite amusing that he so greatly resembled a puppy that was wagging its tail excitedly and waiting to be praised.

"What?" she asked when he still hadn't moved.

Alistair shrugged. "Nothing. I was just wondering if you know this little word which expresses gratitude for things done. Guess you don't." With that he slowly returned to his place on the log and concentrated on his own, smaller ration.

After she had hungrily chewed the first bit of bread and meat, Lenya raised her voice, her mouth still half-filled with food. "Well you promised, so I won't say thanks... exactly. Anyway, when do we have to go and light this stupid beacon?"

"Wow, that's almost a thanks." He laughed. "When it gets dark...well, even more dark. A horn will signal our departure. So don't worry. Anyway, there's quite a commotion around us here. I feel really stupid sitting around here and waiting."

"I like it," the elf admitted while chewing on another piece of bread. "But it's obviously the calm before the storm...there's this tension in the air that I only feel when I'm on a hunt." Lenya paused a while to contemplate her words and to took a sip of the still unidentifiable stew, just to make a face afterwards. "Eeew. Why do humans always put so much spice in their food to the point where it only tastes like salt?"

Alistair shrugged. "Well, that has nothing to do with human cuisine, just with Ferelden cooking. The way we cook is ….different here. I assume despite living in Ferelden you are used to different food?"

"Yes, I'm used to food where I know what the ingredients are." She frowned and pointed at the bowl. "What's in there anyway?"

"Well to be honest, I actually don't know." A grin sneaked into his features. "This is what makes Ferelden cuisine so special: We take our ingredients, throw them into the largest pot we can find, and cook it for as long as possible until everything is a uniform grey color. As soon as it looks completely bland and unappetizing, that's when we know it's done."

Lenya scowled at him. "That explains a lot; especially this indefinable texture."

"Oh, so you don't want it? You can still give it..."

"No, no I'll eat it," she interrupted him quickly. "I can't believe I've already become so desperate for food. Damn this hunger..." With another sigh, the Dalish returned to the seemingly unending task of satiating the appetite within her.

Alistair snickered quietly at her reaction. "You'll get used to it. And not all food is bad here. Cheese, for example, is amazing."

He fell silent afterwards, tilted his head slightly as he stole a glance over at the elvish troublemaker, who downed the stew with such an irked face that it made him smile.

Maybe she is not that bad as thought.

After all, she could carry a normal conversation...when she wanted to.

The rest of their meal was spent in pleasant silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. For Lenya the quietness was a nice change of pace, in direct contrast to the hectic movements of the humans surrounding them, which she mostly tried to ignore.

The chaos would come soon enough.

Chapter 9: Thrown To The Wolves

 

 

.

"Lenya...oh thank the Maker, you're here," Alistair said, slightly agitated, as he barged into her tent. After their meal, each of them had returned to their tents to rest and prepare for the upcoming task.

"What?" she blinked confused. "Don't panic, puppy. I was just collecting some things that I needed. I don't think this tent will survive the battle." Calmly, she sheathed her sword and dagger on her back and packed the rest of her belongings, as well as some healing potions from the mage's chest in her tiny bag.

Just in case.

"We have to leave. Now. They've sounded the horn. We need to go to the tower of Ishal and light the beacon." He motioned for her to hurry, and only stopped as the Dalish shot him a glare.

"Alright, lead the way then, since you're so eager to do so. But you'll be sorry if we start running around in circles again."

"I know where we have to go, I swear!" Alistair tried to reassure her, and was the first to leave the tent." Holy Maker...it wasn't like this before." As soon as Lenya left her dry and warm tent, she immediately realized what Alistair was cursing about. A harsh wind lashed against her face, accompanied by heavy rain and thunder, causing her to shiver violently. The storm had reached Ostagar at the same time as the approaching darkspawn horde.

How very fitting, the Dalish thought dryly, as she followed the shem through the archway. She almost ran into him when he suddenly stopped.

"It begins..." he muttered, his voice shaking. "They are everywhere...I can feel it." Lenya didn't need to ask what or whom he meant; she already knew. She could feel it too, not the darkspawn like Alistair – not yet – but the earthshaking vibrations, the thick tension in the air and the sickening drumming beat of an approaching army of death. Men ran past them and almost into them, they were so focused on reaching the battlefield that they were unable to take note of their surroundings.

"Come on, we have to get moving," Alistair yelled against the torrential rain and clapping thunder.

They reached the long bridge and Lenya felt her heart sinking lower at the sight. They were in the center of the battle, or rather, above it. She could clearly hear the clanging of swords, the screaming of charging men …and the death cries of those beneath them.

The thunderstorm appeared to have gained strength in the past few minutes, the thunder growled overhead, while the lightening eerily illuminated the pitch blackness of the night in short, white streaks of light. While the sky was lit for only a fraction of a second, it was enough time for Lenya to take in her surroundings and she was able to discern the distinct stench of fire, smoke and...death.

Lenya shot a glance over to Alistair, more to ensure that he was still there than anything else. As much as the Dalish disliked him, she was glad that she wasn't alone.

Catching his startled expression, he was probably thinking the same.

There were a couple of archers fighting on either side of the bridge, firing their arrows into the crowded battlefield. A few soldiers handled the heavy ballistae to fire missiles at the horde. Lenya stormed forward – heedless of Alistair – her sole concern was to leave this terrifying place, leave the battle and death behind her as soon as possible.

Explosions reverberated on her left and right, deafening in their crashing sounds as they ripped away parts of the bridge. The darkspawn horde was returning fire. Suddenly Alistair – who followed close behind her – ran and shoved her roughly to one side and away from where she previously stood. A second later a missile exploded right beside them, and it would have hit the elven woman, had it not been for Alistair's lightening quick reflexes. For a few moments Lenya simply stared at him at a complete loss of what to think or say.

He had just saved her life.

"Don't be so reckless," Alistair yelled, no less shocked himself.

She blinked a few times before her eyes eventually narrowed and her expression hardened once again. She ushered his hand away. "I'm still alive, so let's get going."

Inside, however, her heart was hammering in her chest and her stomach lurched at the thought of dying here. The Dalish could have been dead already and that thought alone made her sick. A silent oath rushed into her head, between ragged breathing and her own frantic heartbeat; Lenya promised herself she would not die here. She wouldn't let such carelessness happen again like she had with the missile, the one that had nearly killed her. Any opponent that dared cross her path would lie dead on the floor.

Everyone but her.

She needed to live on. For Tamlen, for her revenge – for her clan.

Finally they left the bridge behind, but she could still hear the thrumming drums, the eerie growling of the darkspawn interspersed with the screaming of humans. It gave her the creeps. As they reached the other side of the bridge, two men dashed toward them.

"You two. You are Grey Wardens, right?" The taller shem in full armor asked.

Lenya crossed her arms, regarding him disdainfully. "Really? Grey Wardens? Now, that's news." Alistair looked at her confusedly and then at the men before them.

"The tower...it's under attack. The darkspawn...it's been overrun. I'm a tower guard, but nearly all of our men are dead."

"Guess you weren't successful in guarding the tower then, huh?" Oh the sweet sarcasm, she could always count on it to relieve some of the anxiety that had built up inside of her. The rest of her anxiety would have to be expended by killing a cartload of darkspawn. The tower guard blinked at her in bewilderment.

Alistair deliberately ignored her remark. "Then we have to light the beacon by ourselves."

"Wasn't that the plan all along?" Lenya groaned in annoyance, glancing in Alistair's direction. "Well, seems like our dull task just became a whole lot more ...invigorating. Let's go." She unsheathed her weapons and rushed toward the men without paying them any further mind.

"Wait..., we can come with you." the mage called after her. "We want to help, too. I'm Siru..."

"I don't need to know your name, you're not all that important, at least not in my opinion." Lenya snapped abruptly and turned around. "You want to come with us, shemlen? Fine with me. That way you can keep the darkspawn distracted, so we can kill them. So, as of now, you are meat shield number one, mage shemlen. And you..." She glared at the tower guard, "….are meat shield number two. It raises the chances of my survival, after all. You may even be able to help the puppy survive as well. So go on, keep those darkspawn distracted."

"M-m-meat shield?" The tower guard stuttered in utter disbelief and glanced over to Alistair, who just shrugged in resignation.

"Just don't ask. It's for the better." Although she'd been totally rude to the men, Alistair couldn't ignore the fact that he had been deemed useful in her eyes. At least he wasn't a simple meat shield for her anymore. He was more of an equal fighting partner, seeing as Lenya had used the term 'we'. If there hadn't been the all important task of slaying an entire darkspawn army ahead, he would have taken the time to celebrate this achievement.

Well, sort of.

.

.

---

.

Joined together in a group of four, they moved their way up toward the tower, only to find a few men fighting against darkspawn.

Though the remaining soldiers weren't terribly successful, and many painful screams were heard as they fell. Once the darkspawn had slaughtered the soldiers, their attention shifted quickly to the newly arrived group. Instinctively, Alistair took his surroundings in, his muscles tensed and his grip tightened around the hilt of his sword as he gripped the shield in his other hand.

"We have to stick together and fight them while standing side by side. It's the only way we'll be able to take down a bunch at once," Alistair yelled to the party behind him.

Lenya nodded curtly before she took a deep breath and charged into the group of Hurlocks. The creatures didn't last long, because the party had quickly developed an understanding of each other's role in combat. Alistair knocked them down with his shield, which Lenya took advantage of, and the mage cast some spells from a distance to weaken them. With that strategy they made quick work of the monsters all the way up to the door of the tower of Ishal.

Alistair already was about to pass through the entrance when Lenya abruptly stopped and looked at her sword and dagger, a bewildered expression colouring her features.

"Wait, why are my weapons burning, exactly?"

The mage cleared his throat. "That was my doing, a lasting magical spell. You won't feel the heat of the blaze even when you have your weapons sheathed. But our opponents... they'll definitely feel the burn..."

Lenya's mouth quirked up. " That's...helpful. Roasted darkspawn. Lovely idea, meat shield number one."

"Err, thanks...I guess."

"Now can we actually go into the tower?" Alistair sighed. "There's still a plethora of darkspawn between us and the beacon...And I plan on slaughtering each and every one of them."

The eyes of the Dalish glistened menacingly in the dark, as she passed her fellow Warden to enter the tower. "Well, make sure you don't make promises you can't keep, puppy."

The entrance of the tower was lit by very few torches, though the huge hall before them was bright enough for them to see the other end of it. Suddenly they saw a shadow moving from one side of the chamber to the other.

When she and her group entered the hall, all of the wooden barricades caught fire. The black smoke made it hard to see or breathe. It was a simple but effective trap, which aided in the darkspawn's attack. It made it difficult, but not impossible, for the party to fight the enemies, though they were always cautious about not venturing too close to the heat of the burning flames. Fortunately there were equal numbers on either side – four against four – therefore the darkspawn's surprise attack did little to hinder the party's progress.

"This is the right way." Alistair pointed to the hallway to his right and started to scamper toward it. "Be careful Lenya while walking here, don't come too close to the burning barricade."

She hurried over to him, mage in tow, and rolled her eyes. "Wow, now that is a helpful tip, really."

"Well...there are two doors – left and right – ...so which one should we take?" The man asked the elven Warden.

"I guess it really doesn't matter, because behind each door there will probably be darkspawn waiting for us, right puppy?" She looked back at Alistair who simply nodded.

"Okay then meat shield...you go first and open one of the doors. You'll no doubt find plenty of darkspawn so it shouldn't come as too much of a surprise, right?" Lenya nearly shoved the man in one direction until he eventually gave in to his fate and groped the knob of the door to his left, shaking with fear.

Even before the knob had fully turned, a Hurlock stormed out of the door, apparently wanting to make use of the element of surprise. It failed miserably. The tower guard quickly dodged its attack and Lenya closed in behind him and seized the opportunity to ram her blades deeply into the flesh of the hurlock's chest. The hurlock let out one last snarl before falling into its own pool of blood.

Lenya barged through the door first, fully aware of the opponents lurking in there, ready to attack. She parried each attack that was sent her way with minimal effort, but her luck soon ran out as the force behind one particular blow sent her tumbling back a few steps and she failed to get a steady foot on the slippery ground.

The young woman lost her balance and fell hard on her back. The snarling hurlock stood over her. She cursed her recklessness again, her mind racing through different methods to escape from the enemy. However, in the end, the darkspawn hadn't had a chance to attack. Alistair pummelled the creature away from her with his shield and ran the hurlock through with his sword, killing it instantly. With one swift move, the elf was back on her feet and reclaiming her weapons. She nodded gratefully to Alistair. Together they got rid of the remaining darkspawn, with Lenya even angrier than she had been previously, the ire smouldering in her gut.

" Eww," groaned Lenya, as they had entered the last room of the basement, "...that is disgusting."

She wrinkled her nose and tried not to breathe in too much of the sickening smell, which lingered heavily in the room. The source of the smell was bloody human corpses, body parts wedged onto spikes. Darkspawn seemed to have a weird taste for interior design. Lovely. Not that she pitied what happened to the mutilated shemlen, but the overall picture was just disturbing.

The Dalish looked over her shoulder at her fellow Warden, whose face grew pale at the sight. "Well, you complained before that you wouldn't have the chance to fight, right?"

Alistair averted his eyes from the ghastly scenery. "Yes. But not like this. This is so wrong. The darkspawn shouldn't even be in the tower..."

Lenya's eyebrow quirked up at that. "Then you should tell them that they're in the wrong place."

"Yeah, I'm sure they'll listen to that," he remarked sarcastically. "Anyway, let's keep moving. We need to get to the top of the tower."

"Okay meat shields...you both go ahead and do your job, which is to protect us from the attacks." Once again, Lenya refused to move before the two shemlen were walking ahead of her and Alistair.

"I do not approve of this treatment, nor do I wish to be called a 'meat shield'," the mage scowled at her, eyes narrowed.

"Whatever," the elf muttered, unmoved by the mage's complaint. "As I said, both of you are expendable. So go on. Charge first, ask later."

Alistair sighed, his nerves getting the better of him. "If we had more time, I really would apologize for her rudeness but we still have a job to do. Beacon. Fire. Teryn Loghain awaits the signal." Then he turned and bounded up the stairs, taking the lead. Resignedly, both men eventually passed by Lenya, yet not before cursing under their breath as they did.

"That...woman...is crazy and ruthless," uttered the tower guard, as he gave in to his fate, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"I figured that much out, already," the mage answered, one cautious eye on the woman's movements behind him. If they all wanted to survive, they had to work together, yet this was definitely not the way he would have imagined it happening.

After another floor full of darkspawn they finally reached the stairs to the top of the tower. All took one last breath before they stormed through the door, unsure of what would await them on the other side. All the party knew was that the Warden had warned them of a darkspawn presence, which wasn't really breaking news at that point for Lenya. At least every damn floor in the tower had been swimming with the tainted creatures that she loathed so much. Therefore the Dalish hardly expected to be able to peacefully amble over to the beacon without any problem.

Unfortunately, the elven woman had no idea how right she was in her assumption.

"I-it's huuuge..." the mage yelped and pointed in horror at the ogre that knelt down, feasting upon several corpses. The earth started shaking as it turned around and let loose a bloodcurdling roar. Within seconds it began charging toward them.

"Thanks for pointing out the obvious," Lenya screamed into the mage's direction while gripping the hilts of her dual blades so tightly her knuckles turned white. Every fibre of her being tensed.

Alistair hurried to her side and a rush of biochemistry flooded his veins as the warrior within him took over, a well known mixture of adrenaline and fear. "We need to take it out. Stay together," he commanded, before muttering "Oh Maker..." He watched in horror as Lenya did exactly the opposite and started to dash to the side of the ogre, whose attention immediately shifted to the elf.

"Alistair, keep it distracted while I attack its back," she hissed under her breath while she gracefully dodged the monster's attack.

He didn't have time to be surprised at hearing his actual name from her lips, as his brain was too occupied by warrior instincts and reflexes. He started his charge against the massive creature. He knew such a bold move would gain its attention, but he hoped it wasn't too bold. Surviving the attack would be great after all.

The mage conjured various spells from a safe distance, though when he called thunder upon the ogre it proved to be quite helpful. The beast was stunned for several moments and Lenya seized this opportunity to ram her dagger in the hollow of its knee with full force, slicing the thick flesh apart. The ogre cried out in pain but didn't fall as she had intended.

Instead, the pain and rage that the ogre felt broke the spell and it lashed out with its hind leg, taking a few steps back. It almost smashed the tower guard, who was fighting at her side. She jumped back and out of the danger zone. Armed with only one of her weapons, Lenya attacked the ogre's flank while dodging its massive arms which repeatedly tried to grab and smash her. If she had to keep up this strenuous pace, the Dalish knew she wouldn't last long – not after having fought a whole tower full of darkspawn.

It was frustrating, really. No matter how often she sliced its flesh with her remaining sword it didn't seem to have an effect. Meat shield shem number two was either dead or playing possum. Which was just as well since the useless mage had run out of mana long ago. That left only her and him able to fight. Just great. A quick glance over to the puppy showed her that he was doing his best.

Unfortunately it wasn't enough to make this pesky, sturdy and utterly ugly monster fall. Now Lenya was the one who was getting pissed and had begun to ignore the aching in her strained body. She renewed her assault.

Alistair mimicked her moves on the ogre's other side, always making sure not to get crushed under its gigantic heels. As it stomped toward him, the Warden jumped back but had underestimated its claws. The ogre snatched Alistair from where he stood and heaved him up, his shield and sword clattered to the ground. Wide-eyed, Alistair faced the ugly grimace of the ogre, knowing beyond hope that he was unable to escape. He felt the increasing pressure of the ogre's meaty hands circling his waist. He felt several bones cracking beneath the monster's brutal ministrations. It became increasingly difficult to breathe.

This is it...

"NO, YOU DON'T..." Lenya yelled and with her last ounce of strength she violently hacked her sword into the upper half of its leg, causing it to roar in anguish and fall to the ground. Guided by her instincts, when the ogre fell she jumped onto it and was finally able to reach its throat to slit it with her remaining blade.

Fountains of red- black blood splattered into her face and completely covered her small form. The ogre was taken by surprise and let out one last resounding scream before it shuddered and died. Alistair toppled out of its hand and landed roughly on the ground in a pool of blood, which, thankfully, was not his own. He gasped for air, it felt as though he'd been crushed. His splintmail armor hung in tattered pieces from his body and yet he was...alive. Thank the Maker...

"Ahhh... – as in ouch," Alistair groaned, feeling as though every part of his body had been bruised. He was still too weak to get up on his own. Lenya stood close to him, bent down at her wobbly knees in a vain attempt at catching her breath. Though she was not exhausted enough to shoot him a knowing look "Don't be reckless, huh?" She mimicked his words from earlier. "Guess we're even now, shem."

"Thank you, Lenya. I seriously thought...oh Maker," Alistair croaked from the ground.

Still out of breath, the Dalish rummaged in her pockets and brought out one of the few magic potions she had and threw it to Alistair. "Drink this. I wouldn't carry your big, bulky ass all the way down afterwards, even if I could. Stupid puppy."

She hated how her voice wavered at the last bit, but she had seen enough death for her taste today. And although he was nothing more than a loud and annoying shemlen, he didn't need to be among the dead now.

Alistair winced as he lifted the little bottle to his lips. Every little motion was downright painful for him. He swallowed the bitter beverage in one swallow and immediately felt it start working, banishing all pain from his body. Just moments later he was strong enough to finally get up again and walk away from the smelly pool of blood. It was the first time that he actually appreciated that Lenya had picked the lock on the chest of the Circle.

Speaking of magic, the mage reappeared from behind the barrels, where he had sought shelter for the rest of the fight.

"Everyone okay?" he asked sheepishly.

Lenya's head snapped in his direction, glaring at him. "Oh look, the unimpressive and unhelpful mage shem is still alive." She looked at Alistair. "Mind if I change that fact?"

"Wait, wait. I'm sorry... but I ran out of lyrium and without it I can't cast spells. And without spells, I'm helpless and would have ended like the man beside you." he pointed at the dead and smashed body of the tower guard.

"At least he did his job." She crossed her arms over her chest.

"He's d-dead," the mage blinked, bewildered by her cold words.

"Yes he was a proper meat shield; unlike you." Without paying any further attention to the utterly stunned mage, Lenya turned back to Alistair. "Now light the damn fire, I want to get out of here."

"Yes, we better hurry, we must have missed the signal," Alistair said and scurried over to the fireside. "...which tends to happen when you almost get crushed by a giant ogre..." he added smugly. He bent down to light the dry wooden pieces within the beacon. "Yay, done." he exclaimed joyously. "And we're still alive, which is a huge plus for me."

"Sooo, puppy what do we do now? Run in circles until the battle down there is over?" Lenya asked after an unpleasant and awkward silence had fallen over them. She felt like her muscles were on fire, and the Dalish knew that she was in no condition to fight...at least not without a nice long rest. After she had reclaimed and sheathed her discarded weapons again, the elven woman gave in to the need to sit down near the fire.

"Well let's just hope that the plan Loghain had will work, and then the war will be over soon." Alistair smiled and reached out to her with his hand. "Come on get up, this isn't the best place to linger. Dead smelly ogre and all."

Lenya pushed his hand away and got up on her own. As if she ever would need help with that. "Loghain, huh? I dislike..."

"Did you hear that?" The mage shem interrupted, his tone fearful. "There's something at the door..." The man went to the door apprehensively to find the source of the sound.

"Impossible, we wiped out all the darksp – " Alistair didn't finish his sentence. Suddenly a huge horde of darkspawn stormed through the door and killed the mage at once, kicking his lifeless body to the side.

It all happened too fast and too sudden for either Warden to understand, and before they could even react, they were shot down by arrows. Lenya tried to fight the blackness that overcame her, to get up and fight for her life but deep inside she knew that this would have been futile and she had no strength for any of it anymore, her whole body was growing so numb. So comfortably numb.

Eventually, she would die here along with a human. Not only did this make her angry, but she was also pissed that she couldn't even keep her own simple promise to survive after everything she'd been through.

I'm sorry, Tamlen.

The darkness enveloped her and she didn't seem to care that the bloodthirsty darkspawn had approached Alistair and her and were about to devour them whole.

Chapter 10: Of Ashes, Guilt and Whine

 

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It was like a nightmare, but he simply couldn't wake up.

Alistair stood on the edge of the huge swamp and stared blankly into its water.

The water reflected the remaining daylight and his own image, but he paid it no mind. He had no idea how long he had been standing there, and he didn't care.

This can't be real...the numbness and the shock had ceased and were replaced by waves of sharp, agonizing pain. Alistair took a deep breath, his lips trembling from the impact of such torturous emotions. Standing there, still alive and able to breathe…it just felt so wrong to him.

Why was he still alive, when every other Grey Warden was dead?

Duncan...

The thought of his name brought a lump into his throat, and his chest tightened painfully. Eventually a soft sob found its way through his throat to his lips, but it brought no relief.

Deep inside he knew that he needed to stay strong. He was one of the last Grey Wardens, and the Blight in Ferelden was still ahead. But it was just too much to bear right now. He simply couldn't, his head was filled with too much chaos…too much pain.

Alone. Alone again.

Alistair should have been used to it, he'd been alone all of his life – simply leading a bothersome existence in the eyes of others. The first and only person who made him feel like he wasn't alone and who actually appreciated him was now dead. The Grey Warden order had quickly become his home and a place where he was accepted for who he was – but now his world and everything he believed in lay in shattered pieces at his feet.

Once again.

Only this time the bitterness seemed too much to swallow. In earlier days he was able to bite back the bitter tide of loneliness. Alistair couldn't do it anymore. A weak, whimpering sound escaped him, and the raw emotion that had bubbled under the surface since he had awoken started to break free. He covered his face with his hands and cried. He cried for all he had lost. He even cried out of shame for being alive.

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---

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As Morrigan was on her way back to the hut, she heard a strange whining sound that didn't belong amongst the familiar noises of the Korcari Wilds.

She approached the source of the sound – only to discover the idiot of a Warden was standing behind tall, thick seaweed…and he was crying like a baby. The witch rolled her eyes and made a loud, annoyed huffing sound. Of course it was him that was whining. It's not like he'd done anything else since he had woken up.

And here I thought Grey Wardens were great warriors, but apparently those legends are nothing but fairy tales.

She decided she had seen enough – definitely more than she'd actually wanted – and turned around to go into the hut. An angry, tear-choked voice called after her, causing her to stop.

"Enjoy watching me suffer, witch?" The idiot had noticed her after all.

Morrigan turned around, one eyebrow raised. "You give yourself too much credit, really. I could care less about your sorrow. I actually wonder why mother saved you at all – the elf, now that I understand – but you? Not so much."

Normally Alistair would have shot a sharp remark back at her, but he was feeling anything but normal, so he stayed quiet. Yet the tears momentarily stopped their flow as his thoughts shifted to his fellow Warden, who had apparently been saved with him.

He wasn't all alone.

Alistair remembered that she had been hit by more arrows than he, and how she had been the first to fall. He had tried to protect her for as long as he could, but it had all happened so fast…Her injuries must have been far worse than his own, and he was almost certain that she wouldn't survive.

"Will…will Lenya be okay?" Alistair asked, his voice was shaky, but held a hopeful undertone.

"You mean your little Grey Warden friend? Don't worry, there isn't much I can't fix, young man," a voice snickered beside him, startling him.

The old swamp witch had appeared out of nowhere, and was now observing the Warden with some amusement. "Morrigan is going in to treat her wounds now and she will change the bandages once again; so to answer your question, yes, she will be fine...if she wakes up."

How very reassuring, Alistair thought bitterly, his eyes fixed on the little hut that Morrigan had disappeared into.

Please. Oh Maker, let her be okay.

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---

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Lenya was dreaming...or dead. Considering her last unfortunate encounter with the darkspawn she figured it was the latter. But even if this was just a dream, she wouldn't bother to wake up. After all, she saw herself leisurely walking through her well known and beloved woods again – and with Tamlen at her side. Lenya's subconscious whispered to her that it wasn't real – just a faded memory in fact – but she didn't care.

She felt wonderful – free, actually.

Rays of warm sunlight shone through even the thickest branches of trees and danced upon her face. Lenya turned to him, a wicked grin playing across her features.

"I bet I can outrun you..." she heard herself say in a challenging tone and saw her grin bloom wider on her face.

Tamlen kept walking, the dry, wooden carpet of the forest crackling beneath his feet. "Lenya, we are here to hunt," he answered flatly. To give his words more weight, he pointed to the long-bow he was holding.

Lenya feigned a pout at her friend. "Ahh, always the voice of reason. How very boring."

"No I'm not, and you know that...but just think about what will happen if we fail again. I'm not in the mood for an hours-long lecture from Favrel or our Keeper about clan responsibilities." He shot her a wry and knowing look.

Lenya grimaced. "Okay, that's a good reason, I admit. They really do talk way too much. It's like listening to water running down a creek after a while, if you ignore the actual words coming out of their mouths."

"I might try that next time, it might make it more tolerable," Tamlen laughed. "Still I have no desire for a repeat. The Keeper is still mad at me for sneaking into her aravhel."

"Thanks for covering up for me, by the way," she grinned and patted her friend playfully on the back.

"It was my pleasure. Though that means you owe me," Tamlen nodded matter of factly. "So let's hunt normally today. No games."

"Normally, huh?" Lenya contemplated the thought for a second before a mischievous smile graced her features. "Yes, alright. And now – " ,she started dashing forward, leaving a puzzled Tamlen behind – "...you have to hunt ME, lame ass." The sound of crackling dry wood mixed with her boisterous laughter as the Dalish woman ran away from him.

"Hmm, apparently I have to..." Tamlen's voice was suddenly cold and calculating. Lenya watched as the peaceful dream suddenly morphed into a nightmare. She saw herself attempt to run, yet her feet refused to move. The once friendly, light-filled forest had changed into a dark and eerie thicket. The green, leafy trees had withered away, leaving gnarled branches in their wake.

"...hunt you." Tamlen was suddenly in front of her, his bow strained back with an arrow pointed directly at her. She heard herself cry out in surprise, her lips quivering. "Fear?" The nightmare Tamlen tilted his head, bearing his teeth. His lips curled into a wicked, menacing grin. "That's so unlike you, Lenya. But I like it."

"N-n-n-oo, T-t-tamlen," she stuttered, eyes blinking repeatedly. She wanted to stop him, wanted to defend herself, but she found herself paralyzed.

"And now you'll die, like you should have in the cave. Like I did, when you left me behind to save yourself." With a mad laugh, he loosed his grip and let the arrow fly.

Lenya cried out as the arrow pierced her flesh – and suddenly, she was awake. She blinked, confounded by her surroundings as she found herself sitting upright in someone's bed.

She clutched at the spot that Tamlen's arrow should have hit her...which was where the darkspawn had hit her; but there was neither a wound, nor a simple scar where there should have been. Why? Her breathing was ragged, and her heart hammered steadily against her chest. Lenya needed a moment to adjust to her new surroundings. Her mind needed to catch up with her eyes.

Why am I not dead?

"Ahh, you are finally awake." A somewhat familiar voice said.

"I- I had bad dreams," Lenya answered automatically, still too confused to grasp what was going on.

"Apparently so. With all that screaming and lashing around it was nearly impossible to treat your wounds. Are all Grey Wardens such traumatized idiots? Your stupid friend whines all the time, as well." After a sigh the voice added. "Wonderful, Ferelden is doomed, it seems."

Lenya turned her head in the direction of the voice. A familiar face was staring down at her. "M-Morrigan?" The witch's appearance only made her more confused.

"I see you remember my name. I am honored...," Morrigan said in a sarcastic tone.

The elf knitted her brows, bewilderment etched into her features. "Why? Why am I here in the Wilds? I should be lying dead on top of that tower..."

"And you would have, if mother hadn't saved you both," Morrigan chipped in.

"Your...mother saved ...us? Why?" Her eyes grew wide. "Wait, that means he is alive as well?"

"If by 'he' you mean the pathetic, whiny excuse for a Warden – then yes. That idiot was saved as well. Only Mother knows why."

Lenya took a few deep breaths in order to calm her racing mind. Her chin fell against her chest. "Sounds like him," she muttered more to herself than to the witch. When she looked up again, her eyes pleaded with the witch. Dignity was not an option, not when so many questions were spinning round her head. "What happened, Morrigan? I mean, with the war...I don't understand..."

"Ah, the war." Morrigan started, taking a deep breath as well, "... mother can explain it to you a lot better than I can. I've only treated your wounds... – heavy wounds by the way. All I can tell you is that the man who was supposed to respond to your signal retreated and abandoned the battle field. The darkspawn won the battle."

Lenya's confusion shifted to raw anger. That man...-Loghain. "Filthy shem! I knew he couldn't be trusted! I knew it..." She spat each word out with utter disgust. The Dalish cursed briefly in her own tongue before she was able to calm down again. "What about the others? The Grey Wardens?" She asked softly, already fearing the answer.

"They are all dead. You and your dim-witted friend are the last Grey Wardens left I fear." Morrigan was telling her all of this without any emotional inflection whatsoever. Still, Lenya felt like she'd been hit by an aravhel. She was too shocked to grasp the meaning of the woman's words. She was only able to continue to stare at the witch, completely dumbfounded.

Morrigan couldn't stand the way the elf was staring at her, so she averted her eyes and turned to leave. "Now that you are up and well, Mother needs to speak with you. So get dressed and meet her outside. My job here is done," she told the Dalish over her shoulder.

"Th-thank you...for everything," Lenya muttered absentmindedly, and the witch simply nodded her acknowledgment before she left.

As soon as the door closed, Lenya let a loose a shaky breath that she didn't remember holding. She buried her head in her hands.

Suddenly she regretted that she'd been saved by Morrigan's mother. Death would have been a more desirable option given the circumstances.

.

.

---

Alistair's head shot up. "Was that a scream?" His body tensed. That was Lenya's voice... he ascertained quickly. "Yes, that was a scream...By the Maker, what is Morrigan doing?"

The old woman cackled, amused by the young man's panic. "You really worry too much. My daughter is doing fine."

"Fine?" Alistair glared at the old woman incredulously. "It isn't fine when my fellow Grey Warden is screaming." He forgot about his own distress for a moment and stormed toward the door of the hut...nearly mowing into Morrigan, who was in the midst of leaving.

"Where do you think you are going, fool?" Morrigan's eyes narrowed and she blocked his way to the entrance.

"I- I...what have you done?" Alistair yelled, his voice shaking with fury.

"Done?" She laughed disdainfully. "Nothing, you idiot. She had just woken up from a nightmare. Now, out of my way." She roughly shoved him aside. "You Grey Wardens really are a bunch of morons," the witch muttered as she went behind the hut.

"Surely you want your friend to have some time to get herself dressed before you go in there, right?" The old witch asked mockingly.

"D-dressed?" Alistair blinked and stepped away from the door. The tension that had built up within him left his system at once. It was replaced with a bit of relief.

She's alive...and okay. He leaned against the wooden frame of the hut and let out a shaky sigh.

.

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---

"By the Elvhenan! What's with all the commotion out here?" Lenya stepped out of the hut a couple of minutes later, fully clothed in her Dalish armor and her two weapons sheathed on her back.

"Your friend..." Morrigan's mother pointed at Alistair, who still stood beside the door, "...wanted to rush to your rescue when he heard you screaming. It was quite an endearing sight for my old heart." Another laugh followed her words.

"My friend? He is not – " Lenya's mouth shut abruptly as Alistair looked at her, his eyes drowning in seemingly endless sorrow.

"Lenya...," his voice was barely above a whisper, "...I- I thought you'd be dead for sure. Thank the Maker you're alive."

The elf had a snarky reply on the tip of her tongue, but the honest and genuine concern in his face startled and confused her, so she remained silent. Before she looked down, Lenya noticed that his eyes were red – he'd been crying.

She had sworn to herself that she'd never ever feel empathy for a shem, but with the nightmare still fresh in her mind and all the different emotions stirring in between – she couldn't help but feel for Alistair. Lenya shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the bothersome feelings, but it didn't help much.

"I am... – thanks to Morrigan's mother." The Dalish answered in a quiet, quivering tone.

"This...this is like a nightmare. It can't be real. The Grey Wardens...and the king…they're all dead. Duncan..." The Warden's voice broke and he swallowed hard before continuing. "...and we'd be dead too if we hadn't been rescued by Morrigan's mother."

"I'm still here and can hear you, lad," the old woman interrupted.

To Lenya the shem looked as though he'd fall to pieces at any moment. As much fun as it was to annoy him, she didn't feel like beating the already abused puppy right now.

"Ash'belannar," Lenya growled angrily and shoved Alistair aside to rush toward the woman. "I think we need to talk."

"Oh, you elves and your elvish names. They're all far too complicated, and they'll only knot my tongue. Call me Flemeth instead – if you need a name at all."

"Flemeth?" Alistair's eyes widened with awe as he approached the older woman. "The Flemeth from the legends? You really are the Witch of the Wilds. And you must be very old and powerful."

"I could care less. What I really want to know is why you saved us?" Lenya glared at the swamp witch.

"Impatient, are we?" Flemeth laughed at the Dalish woman. "I know a few things of magic, and as you can see, it served you both well. Also, I couldn't let all of the Grey Wardens die at once, could I? Someone has to take care of the Blight in Ferelden after all."

"Then...why didn't you save Duncan?" Alistair's voice grew shaky. "He is...was... our leader after all..."

"Sorry, lad, I couldn't. I fear this task lies with the two of you..."

"NO!" Lenya yelled. Both Alistair's and Flemeth's gazes shot in her direction. "By the Elvhenan, NO! I refuse to get dragged into this any further."

"Lenya..." Alistair tried his most reasoning voice but was immediately shot down.

"Don't Lenya me, shem," she yelled, full of rage. "I won't do this. End of story."

Alistair could feel his own anger seething, but he tried to swallow it down. If it was the last thing he did, he swore to himself that he would get her to understand. "You can't walk away from it. It's a Grey Warden's duty to stop the Blight, and we're the last Grey Wardens in Ferelden right now, so it's our duty. Duncan would have wanted-"

"Duncan, Duncan, Duncan...is he all you can talk about?" The ire was pouring out of her mouth, which caused Alistair to frown. "What have the Grey Wardens - or Ferelden - ever done for me, huh?" she continued screaming. "I was ripped away from my clan, from my life! And now you expect me to save all of Ferelden and its filthy shems? By the Creators – NO!"

Maker, he was getting angry now – very angry. The very thought of her waltzing out on the Wardens after having them all die in Ostagar…it was simply too disrespectful to bear. "But becoming a Grey Warden saved you. You're being ridiculous!" Alistair snapped.

"Oh I am, huh? So what?" Lenya's arms were held stiffly at her sides and she glared up at the shem in front of her, green eyes flashing with fury. "New life? Yeah, and what a wonderful new life it is. I love coming this close to death three times in two days! And if you're so eager to play the great Grey Warden hero, then do it yourself. Just don't expect me to do the same."

Alistair took a few deep breaths to calm down. "I- I can't. For the love of Andraste, I can't do this on my own, Lenya. I need your help, so please don't leave me now."

Lenya's mouth snapped open and shut, but no sound came out. The Dalish averted her gaze and stared into the water without saying anything.

That she was silent seemed like a huge success to him. Because that meant she would listen. At least, Alistair hoped it did. He continued speaking in the same calm tone. "You were there too, with me. You've seen all the death and destruction the darkspawn brought upon Ostagar. Do you really want this to happen to all of Ferelden? Don't you want your clan to have a home to return to?" Alistair saw her frowning and he knew that he was finally getting through to her.

"Maker be damned, I'm NOT leaving Ferelden behind. Not when I can do something about it as a Grey Warden. ...I- I just don't know how..." he eventually confessed, his voice tiny. He felt tears threatening to well up again.

Oh, how she hated this shem with all of his unexpected logic, logic that made her waver in her decision. How she hated his whiny, puppy face looking at her expectantly. The very thought of travelling with him at her side for any extended period of time made Lenya sick to her stomach. But, once again she had only two choices - swallow it whole or die miserably. "Isn't this just great..." the elf grumbled.

"Are you done now? I didn't save you both only to have you kill each other. Now both of you be calm or I'll drown you into the swamp until you are." Flemeth said harshly. "You two have to work together to unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. There is no one else that can do this. It really is that simple."

"Oh is that all? Sounds really simple, actually."

Alistair gave her a chiding look but swallowed his remark down. He was just glad that she was back to her old bitchy and sarcastic self. And it pained him to admit it, but in a way she was right. It was indeed a tremendous task for them to shoulder.

"But there's one thing I don't understand," the Warden started, "We...I mean the king, had almost defeated the Blight. How could Loghain retreat and let all those people die?"

"Because he is a filthy shem. A backstabber." Lenya explained, parenthetically. "What else would you expect from them?"

"I-I wouldn't never stab you in the back, just so you know." Alistair assured her.

"Oh, that's reassuring," The elf glared at him and added. "...and better for your survival, shem."

"You really do have an opinion on everything, don't you? You and Morrigan would get along very well, I think." Flemeth cackled. "To answer your question, Warden, I don't know what Loghain expected. The hearts of men are often thick with dark shadows. Maybe he thought he could spare his own men in order to defeat the Blight later on and earn all the fame and glory. Most likely he is blind to the real threat behind the Blight."

"The archdemon..." Alistair said, understanding dawning on him.

Lenya knitted her brows, frustrated. "Okay could someone please explain to me what this archdemon is, exactly? I hear archdemon here and archdemon there, and I don't even know what it means!"

"Then let me enlighten you, elf." The old witch said. "An archdemon is one of the old tevinter gods, once sent by the Maker to slumber deep beneath the surface. They only resurface during a Blight. When one does resurface, the old god gets tainted by the darkspawn – making it into an archdemon – and it unites the horde, creating an army of death and destruction. History tells us that this creature is exceptionally powerful and immortal... and only fools ignore history."

"And to end the Blight we must defeat this archdemon. Only a Grey Warden can do it," Alistair added. "Not that I like the idea, exactly..."

"Thank you. I feel much better with that knowledge under my belt."

I had to ask, huh? Lenya repressed the urge to drown herself in the swamp. This Grey Warden business was getting better and better by the minute.

"Yes, you have huge task ahead of you indeed, of that I have no doubt. Though haven't the Grey Wardens a right to demand help from others in the times of a Blight?" Flemeth asked.

"Of course, the treaties," Alistair exclaimed. "We can demand help from the elves, the mages, dwarves and other places. They are obligated to help us during a Blight."

"You have them...?" Lenya looked up at him expectantly. "Because I…don't. Why would I carry stuff like that around?"

"I... – uuuh – oh Maker..." Alistair blinked as he thought hard. "Yes, I have them," he said after half a minute of silence. "I forgot to give them to Duncan and stuffed them into my bag. I wanted to give them to him after the war but..."

"Oh please don't start crying now..." Lenya sighed and rolled her eyes.

"...for the first time I'm glad for being a scatterbrain – that's what I wanted to say, Lenya." He emphasized the last part and glowered at her.

"Oh...okay. I agree then. Whatever."

"Elves, dwarves, mages – call me old – but to me this sounds like an army, and suitable help for you two to manage to defeat the Blight." Flemeth ascertained with a nod.

Suddenly Alistair's face brightened up and he looked over to his fellow Warden in a pleading way. "Can we do this? Go to all these places to seek help? It's always been the duty of a Grey Warden to stop a Blight, and since we are those Grey Wardens…"

Oh damn, just quit giving me that puppy face. Lenya gritted her teeth and pressed out unwillingly, "my first impulse would clearly be to say no...but what choice do I have?" She sighed exasperatedly. "I will sooo regret saying this – but it seems I can't run away from this, and I also can't stand the thought of those filthy darkspawn winning in the end. So yes, we can try this. Just don't get overeager, puppy, or I'll toss you into the next swamp I see on the way out of here– head first."

"Point. Taken. ...I'm the last person who'll get overeager here, really." Lenya stared icily in his direction by way of reply, making him nervous. "Okay maybe...I was a little bit eager. You are a mean person. A cruel...mean person, you know that, don't you?"

Lenya smiled at him with mock sweetness. "Better get used to it. I'm just trying to stay alive. My sanity trotted off like a Halla as soon as I agreed to this foolish plan. So staying alive seems to be a nice alternative."

"Since you have both agreed on doing this," the old swamp witch interjected, "...I might have something else I can give to you before you leave." And with those words her eyes wandered to Morrigan's approaching (and clueless) form.

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Chapter 11: Together Alone

Notes:

Chapter 11-16 are unbeta-d, so there could be grammar errors left, since I'm no native english speaker. Sorry about that.

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Morrigan always wanted to leave the wilds and see what was beyond their borders.

Though being literally thrown out by her own mother and bound to accompany their temporary guests on their journey was not how she wanted it to happen. Morrigan peered curtly over her shoulder and watched how the two Wardens were following her like stupid little sheep through the sloping landscape of the Korcari wild.

Like two brooding sheep.

Since they had left her mother's hut a little while ago, they haven't spoken a single syllable. Not that it bothered the witch – quite the opposite – but this pensive, tense atmosphere lingering in between them was nearly unbearable. So she did something very uncharacteristic; she raised her voice first.

"It will get dark soon, and we need to be out of the wild then or our journey will be the shortest in the Grey Warden's history, when the darkspawn will find us."

Since she had opened her mouth, that idiot seemed to react, whereas the elf simply walked on behind her. "You know, I myself wonder why you are here at all. It's not that your magic will be helpful outside the wilds. You are an apostate, after all."

How she hated that idiot.

"So only magic approved by that damn chantry is good magic? Last time I checked, this bad magic of us apostates saved your pathetic life. Maybe I should simply leave you in the wild then." Morrigan shrugged nonchalantly and sped up her pace.

Lenya's head snapped up and she gleamed angrily at her fellow Warden. "Damn shem. She is here, leading us past the entire horde through the wild, and you have nothing better to do than complain about it? What, by the Creators, is wrong with you?"

Morrigan smirked. Somehow this elf is... reasonable.

"I-I..." Alistair sighed and hung his head. "I just don't want to draw more attention to us than needed. Who knows where Loghain has his men hiding in wait for us. He is insane, after all. And having an apostate in our group is like wearing a sign that says 'look at me'... or wearing no pants at all. Both have the same effect."

"I don't care if her magic is approved by your stupid human religion. When that magic helps kill darkspawn or men of that filthy shem, she is helpful. So she stays!"

Very reasonable.

She led them over a bumpy path of the withered, dead roots of trees, far off from the easier but more insecure way. "If it eases your dim-witted mind, Warden, I have already been in Lothering a few times," the witch told him without turning around. "And since the templars don't seem to be the brightest fellows there, I'm not even recognized. Whatever they imagine a witch would look like, it certainly differs from me."

"Oh, I was once a Templar, well almost..." she heard him saying.

Morrigan scoffed. "That would explain a lot. Were the Grey Wardens already that desperate when they allowed someone like you to join? Or was the chantry just so eager to get rid of you? Unusual case of sanity for them, if so."

"I wasn't chased out, I was taken into the ranks of the Grey Wardens before I could make my final vows. Duncan was the one, who..." His voice broke to a whimper, before he fell completely silent.

The witch only raised an eyebrow on that. "Oh, so you even failed to complete that? How I'm so not very surprised. However, we probably won't make it to Lothering today."

Morrigan looked up to the deep afternoon sky, which had started to adopt a faint red color under the thick layer of wilds' mist. "Though, as said, we need to leave the wilds first before we can locate a place to camp." She gazed at Alistair. "You'll have enough time to fall to pieces later. Now we have to speed up the pace."

Morrigan heard that moron of a Warden muttering some incoherent curses under his breath, while the elf seemed to be quite unperturbed of all the things around her. That or she would only speak up when needed. Either way, the Dalish woman appeared far more bearable to the witch than her fellow... idiot.

She always wanted to leave the wilds, but doing so while saving the whole of Ferelden had not been her plan.

Fate is often a tricky and ironical thing.

Morrigan's following laugh was mirthless, and she sped up the pace to leave behind the wild – and the life she had known so far – as soon as possible.

Becoming darkspawn fodder was far below on her priority list... or rather, it was not present, if she was honest.

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Lenya was fuming.

She appeared to be calm on the outside since their departure, but inside she had started to hate everything. She hated this damn wild they were still wandering through, those sickening, green colors of it. She loathed to hearing that shem speaking, and the bereaved bearings he made when he was not speaking. By the elvhenan, even Morrigan's voice ticked her off right now.

Most of the Dalish despised her and her infinite idiocy to have agreed to this stupid suicide of a mission.

It was insane, really. Far from manageable.

And still she was the one screaming 'Me,me, me' loud and clear in the end, as it was questioned who was planning to become fodder for the archdemon. She had done some crazy things in the past, mostly harmless pranks together with Tamlen in the Dalish camp to annoy the elder for a laugh. But was she really crazy enough that she was willing to do this now? As the Dalish looked left and right, seeing nothing but the loathed color of green and the not much more esteemed humans on the other, the answer in her head was yes.

Unfortunately.

A long sigh escaped Lenya that slowly transformed into an annoyed groan.

Her body itched; the blood was boiling. Normally, she knew such a state of her being only when she was on the hunt. Though the rage was within her, that tense feeling bubbled slowly but surely to the surface, even when no animal was in sight. And the Warden shem beside her showed no sign of awakening from his whining lethargy, which meant there were no creatures to kill within reach.

For once, the elven woman would have greatly welcomed darkspawn to slice all the wrath inside of her apart – by doing the same to the tainted monsters.

Lenya glanced over to the shem and was painfully reminded that she was bound to this human for a very long time now. Until they'd either completed this utter insanity or became crushed under the heels of the stomping horde or the teeth of the archdemon.

Either way, the Dalish would make sure that she'd let her fellow Warden defer to the two last options.

Last two of the Grey Wardens, huh?A human and I.

Unfortunately, this loathing thought only added more nutrients to the already ignited rage blazing inside of her, and she began struggling to stay calm.

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The disparate group wandered on through the thick-grown forest of the Korcari wild, stumbling over the bumpy path and their own thoughts.

Each of them was too busy with themselves to hold the simplest of conversations, and no one had the desire to. Alistair stared quietly on his boots while they moved forward, Lenya just made an annoyed groan from time to time, and Morrigan – who was still unwillingly leading them – tried to ignore the not so subtle antics from the companions behind her.

Inwardly, the witch was just glad that the threading path in front would be the last one before reaching the hinterlands… and it was neither the darkspawn, nor the approaching darkness, that made her think so.

The sun was about to set and only remnants of daylight remained as the party finally left the wild and entered a long road, which seemed to be a deserted piece of farmland. As attenuated as the light now was, it was blinding in contrast to the faint light the dense canopy of the wild let through. Lenya blinked and needed a moment to adjust her eyes to the new surroundings. The road was enveloped by a few stone ruins and, aside from a few normal trees, there was nothing to be seen.

Then suddenly the wind turned and the light breeze enveloped the elf, leaving a distant and slight prickling on her pale skin. Something was odd here; she could feel it. Lenya just couldn't grasp what it was exactly.

"Oh-uh." Alistair's head shot up shortly after, and he awoke from his boot observing-lethargy. "Warden senses tingling."

Morrigan peered over at him, yellow eyes gleaming in a sarcastic fashion. "Oh, so you are still alive? What a pity, indeed."

He simply ignored her comment about his gloomy demeanor. "If we are not ready to fight, we won't be soon. There is a large group of darkspawn approaching us." With that, he held his weapon and shield ready, staring straight ahead in the direction he had sensed them.

"At least you are useful for ONE thing," Morrigan muttered and she let magic dance and vibrate in her palms, ready to kill whatever came there with her primal skills.

Lenya felt the change in the air as well – only faintly, though – but strangely there was no sign of the horde yet. Her trained rogue eyes roamed over the area, taking in whatever was left of the daylight. On the right side behind the shrubbery afar, she could suddenly make out the vaguest of movements before it faded for a second and reappeared, dashing directly towards her. But it was too small for a genlock, rather like an animal and moving on all fours. Lenya's eyebrow shot up, and she relaxed her tense posture a bit again as she recognized the approaching form.

A Mabari? The elf bent down to the huge, brown, muscled hound, who was barking repeatedly and sounded alert.

Looking up again, the Dalish started to grasp why – the dog hadn't come alone. She counted a group of seven darkspawn with their alpha leader ahead. The hound growled menacing at the approaching creatures and positioned himself in front of the elf.

Good, a smirk graced her features, and the blood within started to boil with all the hatred she had contained. Until now.

"Oh look, he brought company. Baaad dog. Do you hear me?"

Lenya wasn't even aware of Alistair's words anymore as she leapt forward in utter rage, senses sharp and weapons ready to slice through rotten flesh. Just the slightest part of her sensed him behind her, barging and striking with his shield and sword in his usual fashion.

She danced around her opponents, letting them or their attacks run off and made them grunt in anguish when her blade cut through their flesh instead. It was a deathly dance the elf quickly found herself in, of sensible yet raw wrath, which she sank her two blades alternatively into them, and made them bleed for all the wrong that had happened to her.

For her, this fight was delightful, relieving.

One genlock fell at her hands, and she laughed darkly. Lenya quickly whirled around with her sword and took out another, beheading it with one strike as it dared to come into her wrecking reach. It fell dead to the ground with a loud thud, fountains of blood still emerging from its limp body, almost comically.

This is for Ostagar, bastard, her mind spat in anger as she turned to face the next, which Morrigan had momentarily frozen with her elemental spell.

The Dalish hauled off with all the strength and disgust left in her gut, and the hurlock shattered into hundreds of bloody pieces as her dual blades plunged into its frozen, massive body. Beads of sweats were forming on her forehead and her lungs screamed for air, but in the chaos of fight she felt at ease for the first time.

The dog beside her howled, growled, and tore darkspawn flesh apart. Her fast pumping heart leaped over with joy at that. She finished off another one with the already known pattern of support of Alistair, who took the last minor one down afterwards. The alpha hurlock was the hardest to kill of the pack and, therefore, remained as the last of its already dead companions. Using a moment of surprise, it passed the Wardens and barged directly at Morrigan, sensing the danger that was seeping from her very being.

Growling and snarling it ran to shorten the long distance in between but Morrigan remained calm in her place, not backing off.

"Surely not," she groused curtly, and just a short distance before the alpha could reach her, she ignited it with a blaze of fire, letting it grunt in pain as its flesh severely burned. Lenya dashed toward it, but stopped as soon she saw that Morrigan was casting a spell. Still, she was dangerously close to it and already felt the heat of the fire, as it uncontrollably stumbled in her direction. The elf just wrinkled her nose at the nasty smell and ably backed away from it - just to strike with her blades one final time. Eventually, the still blazing head came off and rolled like an odd torch a few inches on. Lenya coldly observed the path of rolling and how the coal-black, burnt-out corpse hit the ground with a dull thud.

Served you right.

"How lovely. Anybody hungry for darkspawn alpha? It's roasted and well done. Sliced even." Alistair grimaced on the disgusting smell radiated from the creature and cleaned his blade on a few leaves of a bush before sheathing it, then directed his attention to the witch. "And Morrigan, just a tip. Next time you throw a fireball in my direction – warn me. Would be nice to know, after all."

Morrigan came closer and blinked innocently. "Oh, didn't I yell 'Back off, idiot?' Sorry I must have forgotten it. I feel very bad now."

"Yeah haha, very funny. See my laughing face?" He pointed at his face, expression complete serious. "Let's count the still existing Grey Wardens of Ferelden together, Morrigan. One – " Alistair raised his thumb in front of her face to make it even more obvious. "And... oh surprise, I'm number two here. That's it. Not helpful if you kill one off through roasting."

"I would be baffled in other times that you are able to count, idiot... but what is she doing there?" Morrigan's gaze passed Alistair and rested, puzzled, on Lenya, who was still repeatedly hacking and kicking the already sliced darkspawn corpses with her blades and feet.

"This is for getting tainted with your rotten, foul blood from the start." Another kick, full force, in the side of a bloody corpse. "And this is for ruining my life with this stupid Blight, you bastards." She hacked her another dead darkspawn, before loudly screaming, "I will kill you... kill you ALL!"

"Uuuhm," Alistair blinked, momentarily speechless at this sight. "... she is... motivated?"

"A more fitting word here would be insane, but that's just me," Morrigan shrugged. "Well, now go and calm her down. She is your fellow Warden after all." She practically shoved him into Lenya's direction, not without Alistair protesting, of course.

"Hey, how by Andraste should I do this? She's going to slice me into pieces as well." His eyes widened as he recognized that the elf was still continuing her odd behavior.

"Yes, 'tis why it could get amusing. I stand over there and... watch. Amused."

Alistair shot the witch a hated glance before he cautiously inched closer to his fellow Warden.

Great, the 'master of words' must talk the master of crazy now out of doing... crazy things.

For the first time he felt the urge to actually stand beside Morrigan, which felt definitely safer than being in Lenya's presence at the moment. And this said a lot to him.

"Umm, Lenya?" He started, insecure. "...they are... well... already dead." There wasn't a reaction from her, but at least she stopped her motion. Instead she just stood there and stared at the bloodied mush left of the darkspawn. Then as the dog came closer to her, yipped and licked her bloody hand, it was as if she had awoken out of some trance.

Her eyelids fluttered rapidly and she took one very deep breath before the elf turned around, smiling. "I'm good now."

Alistair still stared at her, bewildered. "That's... good. Done with doing... stuff?" Then his gaze shifted to the Mabari, who now sat beside her. "Seems like I'm not the only one concerned about you. Hey, isn't that the Mabari you have helped in Ostagar? I guess this not-so-little fellow was clever enough to escape before... before..." His voice trailed off and Alistair fell silent, swallowing hard.

The pictures of his inner mind made it impossible for him to continue and urged a few bothering tears to his eyes, which he quickly blinked away.

Good that she wasn't looking right now. I have to... stay strong.

Lenya stretched her limbs, extensively. After that she shook her head as after a long, restful sleep, making content little sounds. "Yes, I'm really good now. Can we go?"

Alistair forced a smile, but his voice revealed his discomfort. "So slicing and beheading things makes you... happy? Remind me to send Morrigan in your direction the next time you are in the mood for it."

"Too bad it didn't work with you now." Morrigan huffed and came closer to the group again, then regarded the Mabari close to Lenya. "What about this pesky ball of fur? He seems to be quite attached to our princess of slice."

"Yeah, you can call yourself lucky, Lenya." Alistair nodded in agreement. "This Mabari has chosen you as his master. I think he remembered that you have helped him. It's called imprinting and is actually a rare thing."

"Great, does this mean that mangy flee-thing is now following us?" The dog barked in agreement at Morrigan's annoyed words.

Lenya sighed, bowed down to the Mabari and stroked his brown fur, tinged with darkspawn blood. She observed his deep brown eyes as he tilted his head, understanding evident within.

The Dalish thought that he wasn't so different from her. That animal had also lost everything, now alone and only trying to survive. She decided quickly that she couldn't leave him here, alone at a deserted road with those darkspawn corpses. "You want to come with me, Lethallin?" The dog barked happily and wagged exited with his stumpy tail. "Okay, so be it. Then you need a name, right?"

"Oh, it's not Lethallin?" Alistair asked clueless, but the dark look she gave him made him think that he had said something very wrong.

"Hmm..." Lenya rose again and contemplated on a name, remaining still and quiet for a moment. "... how about Arai?" she eventually questioned the dog, who tilted his head and shortly barked.

"Fantastic. So now we have a dog." Morrigan sighed. "Yet Alistair is still the stupidest member of the party. So since this fact is settled, can we finally move on now? It's getting dark, and we still need a place to camp."

"Why don't we simply stay here then? There is wide land over there. Unused." Alistair pointed to the acre behind the fence.

Lenya raised an eyebrow, glowing incredulously at him. "Here? As in near stinky darkspawn mud? As in having no protection if the weather should change in the night? As in camping on an open field, so the darkspawn can easily find us? Are you really that stupid?"

Regarding her tone, this wasn't really a question.

"See. He is doing his best to prove this fact." Morrigan said matter-of-factly and passed him by to follow the already leaving elf and dog and ignored his very presence.

For a moment he stood puzzled, all alone there, before the Warden set himself in motion again.

"Awesome. I've been outnumbered. By a crazy elf, an evil witch and... a dog. Life indeed is great, especially with such supporting companions," he muttered to himself as he ran behind them to catch up again.

"So, Lenya... what is your fantastic plan for a camp then?"

"Obvious, shem. Finding shelter in the woods nearby," she answered flatly and equally nerved.

"Why doesn't that answer surprise me?" Alistair sighed and trotted, defeated, after them at the rear of the group.

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Not soon after, they entered a small wood, which didn't lie exactly on their route, but with the approaching night close and the only dim lighted road ahead, they hadn't another choice but to stop there.

With Lenya's help and observing eyes, it didn't take long until the party found a sheltered and dry place to rest for the night. It was a relatively wide, round-shaped place, enveloped by thick and tall oaks, which only left one way out; the rest was completely blocked with massive roots and therefore secure in Lenya's eyes.

Alistair rested his back absentmindedly at one of those boles. Shield and sword were tossed aside and his head high up to the now glowing moon, he could only vaguely see between the thick boughs. His thoughts drifted inevitably back to the time before Ostagar, to a time where he had been happy.

This life already felt distant and blurry to the young man and his heart cramped painfully on those memories. He was still a Grey Warden – yes – but he has lost all that made it worth being one. Duncan, his fellow brethren, who had been more like his family he never had... everything. Everything but the silent oath he made to himself on that night of the war:

Being a Grey Warden worthy of Duncan's praise.

How could he ever forget that? Those words were the last... the last words Duncan had said to him. Ever. And he planned to keep those in mind, along with the desire to let Loghain pay for all he had done, when the time came. Alone for that he needed to stay strong, although everything in him wanted to break down still – the pain of loss yet too fresh.

Lenya wasn't exactly the supportive comrade he wished to find in her – especially now. Just having someone to talk with, someone who spared a good word for him, would be enough to ease the void within a little. But he knew he couldn't expect that from the Dalish, not when she was still distrustful and hating him so much outside of the fights together.

If he was honest, none of his companions has been very supportive so far, or just too occupied with their own problems. He sighed and his breath came out slowly and trembling. Even among the group, he felt alone. He should learn to get used to this feeling – like in other times before – and shut those other, bothersome feelings off, but this time it was just... too hard to do.

The loud clacking sound of many fallen, wood sticks to the ground startled him out of his unwanted reverie.

"Here. Make yourself useful for once and start a fire with those. There should be enough for a while. You know how to make a fire, don't you?"

He could barely make out her features in the faint light anymore, but could imagine all too well the expression between disdain and questioning etched in her face.

Alistair blinked, confused. "How long have you been standing there?" He hadn't noticed her and if she wouldn't have deliberately made such a noise, the Warden was sure that he still wouldn't have.

Damn those rogues and their roguish nimble-footed ability to sneak.

How the elf could move so soundlessly over the dry bottom full of rustling leafs, Alistair did not know... but concerning her origin, he wasn't too surprised that she was able to. "And yes, I know how to make a fire, thank you," he added, offended, after a while.

"Good. Once you are ready let Morrigan light this with her magic."

"What? I already have my own fire, and I'm not helping that idiot in any way," a voice came from the other, already lit side of their camp.

"So you'd rather us Wardens freeze to death tonight? I'm okay with it, spares me this whole, ridiculous saving Ferelden thing. Wish you a good place to watch, when its gets overrun by the entire darkspawn horde then." Lenya smiled sweetly-cold in Morrigan's direction, who groaned in annoyance.

"How heartwarming the support in our group is. Lovely. Say, why are you here again, Morrigan?" Alistair looked up from the ground, where he prepared the fire and was actually glad to have a task that distracted him.

"Okay, I will light the fire for him. Something else, Lenya? Maybe holding his hand while he cries?" The witch retorted in the same, cynical-sweet tone like her before.

"No thanks, I'd rather feed my hand to Arai." Much to his disturbance, the dog barked happily on that.

"Oh, I would like to see that, actually."

Alistair ignored Morrigan's remark, instead his attention shifted to his fellow Warden again, who turned to go. "Where are you going? Those woods aren't save for going deeper within alone."

Lenya laughed out loud once. "Who do you think I am, shem? I was born and raised in woods like these. Although this isn't the Brecilian Forest I'm used to... it's still a forest. Keep that gratuitous and unwanted concern to yourself."

As a matter of course, the Mabari followed her as she vanished in the thick coppice and the lingering darkness within.

Alistair stared briefly behind her in disbelief. Had he insulted her now? Why else had she reacted so harshly? That woman was an unsolved mystery to him, and most likely would stay one during their journey all the time.

He wasn't even sure if he ever wanted to try to solve it.

On the other hand, the woman he was now alone with... ugh. Alone to think of Morrigan sitting in the other corner gave him the creeps. Irked, he followed her movements and how she unwillingly cast a little flame in the now prepared and dry firewood.

"Hope you are grateful for this, moron," Morrigan snarled before she returned to her own little and distant fireplace.

Alistair had tried not to hate her, but it seemed destined this way from the start – as a mutual thing.

"You know when I would be grateful? If you'd crawl into that copse over there and die. That would be nice, thank you." Alistair expected her to say something to that, but besides one annoyed sigh, the witch remained still. Therefore, the previous and hated silence returned quickly to the camp, making the Warden fall back into his prior, heavy thoughts again.

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She knew it was nearly senseless to go on a hunt now with only the moonlight left, but Lenya needed to get away… away from that irritating human.

Actually she had planned to set the fireplace herself, something she always loved doing since she has been a young child. Yet, as she has seen him there, head up in the sky – he looked so lost, so sad.

So the elf made herself noticable and shoved the task on him. If Lenya had learned one thing already during her journey, it was that a distracted mind has no time to grieve. Still, the Dalish hated it how this picture of that shem reminded her on herself, as she had been on her constrained journey to Ostagar. As she had to leave all behind that mattered to her to become a Grey Warden – she had suffered in a similar way. Feeling all alone, she looked up to the starlit sky at camp and asked herself if all she had done had been right, or if she should've have tried harder.

Now where she had became a Grey Warden, she still hadn't found the answer.

The pictures of her nightmare earlier still haunted her - especially in those dark woods now, which resembled the ones in her dreams so much. Though everything was better than standing beside a human and pitying him.

Pity a human – She!

It was ridiculous even to think about it. Lenya huffed and loathed her own weakness. Even running away from a shem... how could she? It was not as if he was anything like her at all. It had been stupid to think that. Still, he probably didn't deserve to be that sad; it was not as if what happened in Ostagar had been his fault at all. It had been another, slimy, treacherous shem who did this to her and all Grey Wardens, and it was also his fault that the elf had to do this impossible task.

Loghain was the very reason the Dalish knew humans shouldn't be trusted.

One day, I will make him pay for all this.

Arai sensed her distress, yipped and licked her hand to send comfort in his own way. Immediately, Lenya's anger subsided and she scratched him behind the ear. "Seems like we won't find anything to eat tonight. I'm too distracted to hunt anyway. Let's get back, shall we?"

The Mabari barked one time and waited for the elf to move before following her. The young woman was glad that she had picked up the dog on the road earlier; he made her feel less alone. Even in the dark woods that had so much of her nightmare, she felt more secure with that reeking yet lovable Mabari by her side – and not in the slightest afraid.

They were near the camp and Lenya saw that human sitting there, lost as ever, staring into the fire.

Like she once had.

She shrugged to get rid off the picture and sighed. Yet an idea formed in her mind in the meanwhile, which she couldn't shrug off that easily anymore. So the elf bowed down to her dog.

"Arai, I'm sorry but could you do me one favor?" The dog raised his ear to signalize he would listen. "Your name means bravery in elvish and this is what you need now – to be brave. You won't like this, but do you see that dim-witted, sad human over there?" Lenya pointed over to Alistair who has been completely sunken to a miserable composure by then.

Arai growled quietly. "My thoughts exactly. Still, he is unfortunately my only fellow Warden, and I'm not in the mood to hear him complaining for weeks during our journey. So I need you now to get over to him and to... comfort him in his grief. He had lost his whole clan... like us."

Arai looked at her and whined curtly, as if he understood."Though your effort won't be wasted, I will get you a big soup bone for doing it, once we have reached this weird human village. Promised."

Lenya took one of his paws with her hand and shook it to make the promise valid. Arai licked her hand in return to make clear he would do this for her. Once she had put his paw back to the ground, the Mabari barked briefly and slowly walked over to Alistair for his task. Lenya preferred to immerse within the coppice again, leaving that picture behind. However, she swore to herself, this would be the first and the last time she helped a human. She needed him at full strength, after all, for her not yet so refined plan to survive all this.

.

~V~

.

Alistair didn't know how long he had stared into the flames.

He felt tired and every muscle in his body ached but he was sure he wouldn't find any sleep at all. And someone had to stay awake and guard the fire, right? He was not counting on Morrigan for doing this, where she was too busy with whatever evil witch things she was doing (he rather didn't want to know). Lenya also hadn't returned. Maybe the elvish woman really had had enough of all this human-ness around her and had sneaked out of the woods to follow her clan to the north.

Suddenly a cold, wet nose crept under his unarmored hand, shoving it up until it lay on a furry head. Bewildered, the Warden peered beside him, just to recognize Lenya's mabari sitting next to him, head tilted slightly to the side. Once the confusion ebbed away, alertness found its way to Alistair's system.

"Has something happened to Lenya? Maker, she is always so stubborn. However, always is a weird word for someone I barely know a week... or at all," he sighed and rested his head exhausted in the other hand.

Arai licked his hand to appease him, as if he wanted to show him that she was okay.

"So you ran away then? Baaad dog." A weak smile crept into his face. "Well I guess she is comfortable with the woods, more than I ever would. It's all quiet and dark around here. Almost eerie."

As if the dog understood his words he inched closer and lay one paw on Alistair's lap.

"You know you look like a warhound but could you be more the lapdog, actually? A far too big lapdog of course."

Arai barked in agreement and laid his head on Alistair's lap.

"Reeeeally? Too bad I have nothing for you. I haven't something to eat for myself. Hope we will find something in Lothering tomorrow, though."

Gingerly, the young man started to stroke the dog's fur and petted his head, feeling some tension within slowly ebbing away.

"You escaped from Ostagar, huh? Had more luck than we had... many of my friends, for example," Alistair noticed how his voice grew thick with tears, yet he continued speaking. "I miss them. It's ridiculous when you regard the fact that I've been a Grey Warden for only six months now and didn't even know half of my bretheren... but I felt accepted for the first time then. And now I'm alone again; among two women who hate me – okay it's mutual one time – and I'm talking to a Mabari. Guess the Grey Warden life isn't always as glorious as proclaimed. Still life was good with... with Dun – " His voice trailed off under now flowing tears, choking heavily.

The mabari watched him for a moment, whined emphatically and then suddenly stretched himself to slobber Alistair's face clean – or at least what a dog understood under clean.

"Ugh, Mabari slime. L-lovely." Alistair's voice still trembled but he had stopped crying. "Well better than having the darkspawn blood still in my face... I guess. Just remind me to use the first creek in sight tomorrow; your breath does not have the best scent, after all. But thanks, Arai... at least a dog is listening to what I have to say. Better than to have to sp– "

Suddenly a little stick cracked, not far from Alistair, and shifted his attention to the source of the noise. "Lenya?"

"Yes. Here, puppy," Lenya uttered in an unusual quiet tone and stepped forward but remained half in the shadow of the darkness. "I wasn't successful with hunting. Too dark for it," The elf added rather lamely.

"I... see," he murmured, a bit perplexed.

How long has she been standing there and why didn't Arai notice her? It all fit too well, somehow. Has she been listening?

Alistair felt caught somewhere between embarrassment and relief. "I'm sorry, Lenya. I know I should handle this better. I've been warned that this could happen one day... but to this extreme? No one could have prepared me for that..."

"Yeah, I know. That shem will pay for what he has done," she declared darkly.

"That shem… you mean Loghain?"

"Yes, he is the very reason I now have to do this absurd traveling all through Ferelden - with shems as my companions - to gather an army strong enough to face an archdemon, who is a giant, immortal dragon by the way. And all because I'm one of only two Grey Warden's left. If this isn't reason enough to kill that treacherous, pesky shem, then I don't know. However, I'm going to sleep now; do as you like. I don't care."

With that she turned around and vanished into the blackness of the night again.

Although her behavior had been the usual inclement one, Alistair felt better now – at least a bit. He wasn't as alone as he thought he was.

But they really were strangers to each other still. Strangers, who were only bound together by the tainted blood in their veins, and their shared hatred for Loghain.

However, it was a start.

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Chapter 12: Observations

 

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Alistair still felt tired.

He hadn't slept much in the unfamiliar environment of the woods, and truly hoped they would find a better place to camp for tonight. They had left the wood's border now, heading for the bridge leading into Lothering.

Oddly enough had the dog stayed with him last night, despite Lenya's disappearance later on. Alistair still wondered if she had sent the Mabari to him. Or if she had listening what he had told the dog in his despair. It was not that he would talk to a dog and yet he had been grateful for its unusual but soothing support.

His gaze drifted to the Dalish woman and it lingering secretly on her back for a moment. Lenya definitely had something, he had to admit.

Everything about her was so...different.

The way she straitened her small frame up to a proud bearing as she walked up in front, light-footed. Or how she held her head up equally high that it appeared almost arrogant, but Alistair found it very fitting to her person. How her eyes were straight affixed to the front, concentrated on the road ahead – ...and now glaring at him.

Crap.

"What? If you have something to say, say it," she said, tone harsh.

Oh yeah, he almost had forgotten her extreme 'lovable' hostile behavior. Almost. And it never seemed to fail its intimidating effect on himself and his ability to form coherent sentences afterwards.

"N-n-nothing."

Great Alistair, way to start a conversation with your fellow Warden. First staring and then stuttering. No wonder she thinks I'm an idiot.

"I-I was just wondering if you have ever been in a human village before?"

Her tone remained unchanged, rather added in annoyance. "Why should I?" Alistair felt as if he had asked her if she wanted to marry a genlock and gulped. In comparison to Morrigan – who was just annoying, but therefore predictable – Lenya definitely was the more daunting woman.

"Well it's just that there are some rules valid there. Means no slicing through everything in sight," he said in half-mockery, but her reaction to it was rather...unexpected.

"Who do you think I am, shem?" Her eyes were narrowed to tiny slits and glowered hateful at him. "Some wild animal? One of the Chasind barbarian? We Dalish are refined people with manners...to those who deserve it."

"Apparently you think he isn't worth your more refined manners, I take it?" Morrigan chipped in, amused at the sight. "I really start to like you."

Oh great, now she feels as if I haven't insulted not only her, but her entire people.

Her furious stare bore a few moments longer into him, before she turned around and walked on. Mentally sighing, he quite didn't know how to reply on that. Alistair rather had the feeling everything he'd say to Lenya would be mistaken by her anyway, and would make her only hate him more. He wasn't sure if he wanted that. She was his only fellow Warden after all, with whom he had to spent the whole time of their long journey together.

Now sighing for real, he decided to speak against his previous intention. "I-It's not like that, Lenya. It was a joke. Haha, you know. I didn't want to insult you. Look, don't expect something evil in everything I say, okay?"

"Well," Lenya started, without turning around. "You are right. I shouldn't expect that from your words. All the more, I should expect incredibly stupid things."

" 'Tis good answer," Morrigan laughed out loud, the sound of it pierced in his ears.

Alistair decided to hold on to his initial idea and not to talk to her or her evil witch sister again. He would simply walk after them in silence and look grim, while ignoring the first indications of a horrible, horrible friendship forming in front of his eyes.

Lenya's head turned to the witch. "So Morrigan, what do we expect to find in that shemlen village, exactly?"

"Nothing exciting, apparently. It's just a small dot on the map of Ferelden. Though, we need to restock our supplies, catching up some news maybe, and decide how to proceed before taking the Imperial Highway leading farther away from it."

Alistair's head shot up on her words, offended. Damn, he wanted to say that. He had no time for sulking when his walking came to an immediate halt, right as they wanted to cross the last part of the bridge to reach Lothering.

A band of five men came closer to them, as they approached and were led by a shady looking guy who positioned himself before Lenya. "Oh look, lucky day for us, guys. More travelers who wanted to pass through."

He mustered the Dalish in a derogatory way. "And led by an elf, can you believe that?" His tone was seeping with disdain, and some of his comrades laughed amused on that comment. Judging on Lenya's tensed posture after hearing it, Alistair supposed they wouldn't have any reason to laugh when this would be over. The Warden lined himself a few steps behind Lenya, instinctively knowing that this wouldn't end well.

Oh, Ferelden and its wonderful non-existing respect for other races. No wonder she is always so grumpy.

"Highwaymen. Bandits who want to make profit from the refugees from the war, I guess," Alistair whispered to the elven woman before him.

"Oh, is that so? This means I can kill those humans, right? No one would miss that scavenger scum, anyway." Lenya retorted in a deliberately loud voice and made sure it was heard by the men in front. As if she wanted to give her words more weight, she drew her sword and tested its weight in her hand, while observing it closely.

This wouldn't end well. Not at all.

It however didn't miss its purpose, when one chunky-looking guy stepped aside his leader. "Err, boss? It looks like those aren't normal travelers, they are well-armed. Better to let them through."

The boss called his comrade off. "Whoever made you leader here? So shut up, I haven't asked for your opinion. The toll applies to everyone. Simple as that." Then his attention shifted back to the party. "Why so hostile, little elf? No need for it. All I want is ten silver and you and your friends can travel on."

Lenya flashed him her most sweetly smile, voice etched with irony. "Tell you what, scum. All I want is a life far off from killing darkspawn and pesky shemlen like you. But I suppose we can't always have what we want, riiight?"

"K-k-killing darkspawn? Is she a Grey Warden?...Boss? " The chunky man almost stumbled over his words in fear and backed away.

"'Tis useless. Let's fight them and move on. I didn't plan to spend my day on this bridge because of a bands of morons," Morrigan said with a sigh.

"See, you are even a nuisance to other humans." The Dalish took a few steps forward. "So here is my offer, scum. You give me all the money you have robbed today and I let you live in return. Let's call it a donation for the Grey Wardens to save your filthy, useless skin from the Blight."

The leader didn't seem to be impressed. All the more, he started to laugh. Again. Instinctively, Alistair's hand wandered to the hilt of his sword, ready for drawing it. Concerning the dead end this conversation had taken, he knew he would need it in a few seconds anyway.

"Haha, donation, she says. Uhh, look at me, I'm shaking in fe – There was no chance for him to end this sentence as Lenya made a sudden move and one swift turn around with her sword. The bandit's head rolled on the ground, and eventually accompanied his bloody, now limp body.

One moment passed in total silence, everyone too shocked of the sudden turn of events. Even Alistair stared at her in disbelief. It was her of course who parted the silence first, while looking down to the corpse.

"I hate shemlen scum like you. But even more I hate scum who doesn't take me serious." Calmly she cleaned her blade before glancing up again to the other four still shocked humans. "So who is next, I wonder? Or will you be wiser than your boss, hmm?"

"Whaah, d-d-d-on't c-come near me. You a-a-are insane, elf. Take everything we have. In those crates aside." The chunky guy screamed in panic and ran away – along with his other comrades.

Morrigan followed the trace of the fleeting, panicking men, her yellow eyes gleaming with amusement."I like how you are handling things, Lenya. He practically begged for it."

Of course would Morrigan like this borderline psychopathic, bloody act.

Alistair was not surprised.

Although he counted on an ugly result for this highwayman from the point where he was acting like an ignoramus toward the elvish woman, he never would have expected this outcome. Still baffled – and not in a good way – the Warden wiped the sprinkled blood off his face. "You know Lenya, I'm not saying it wasn't deserved for that – ...guy, but overall...way too gory. If you ask me."

"Good thing I haven't asked you then, right? Now let's search those crates for useful items and money. We will need those for restocking." Without another word, she sheathed her sword back again, petted briefly the patiently waiting Arai and focused her attention to the boxes.

"Of course you wouldn't," Alistair muttered, tone sarcastic, before he slowly ambled to the crates on the other side. With a sigh, he bowed down to the boxes to start this given task rather unwillingly. For him it felt just wrong to search through the belongings of unbeknown and miserable people, who weren't coldblooded enough to 'simply' decapitate the leader when crossing here.

Alistair made a mental note aside to never call her elf occasionally, also to distance himself from the thought to not take her seriously. He liked his head where it was, after all. And if she was one thing, – among being ruthless and insane – then it was determined. Although it went in wrong directions right now - he at least had to give her credit for that.

"I'm not touching those filthy things." Alistair could literally hear how Morrigan was standing there – all scoffing – probably even having her arms folded and doing the exact opposite thing of being helpful. Not that it was that much of a surprise to him.

He reluctantly searched in another crate, but immediately stopped as he found a little doll in one of those boxes and his head screamed 'wrong, wrong, wrong' all the way. Lenya however felt like a kid being on a treasure hunt and cheerfully continued to rummage in another one, detached from all moral. Alistair arched one eyebrow at the sight.

Life must be good when you have no conscience.

At least this was the impression he could get when watching the happily occupied elven woman.

.

.

---

.

After Lenya had finally and shamelessly looted all useful items to her content, the group stopped shortly before entering Lothering, which lay in front of them now.

The cold morning had surprisingly developed into a relative warm and sunny day by now and myriads of ray of lights reflected upon the village. Alistair took a brink of moment to admire the peaceful sight, before raising his voice.

"I think after all that wonderful 'restocking', we should make a brief halt here to discuss how we should proceed."

Lenya peered defiantly up to him. "You have a problem with that?"

"No not at all," he countered, snidely. "We were just stealing from people who have being robbed of all her things from those bandits. There is surely nothing wrong with that."

He saw how her mouth snapped open and closed a few times, before the actual words came eventually out. "If it's robbed already, how is it stealing then? I'm sure we need it more than a few shem's." Arai barked, subsequently, as if he wanted to support his mistresses words.

Traitor.

"It's just..." Alistair sighed exaggerated, inwardly giving up the try to get a bit of conscience inside of her, "...forget it."

"So you wanted to say something and have decided to not throw yourself into your blade? Or can I still change your mind what concerns the latter part?" the witch chipped in.

Something inside him snapped and he grew entirely angry at Morrigan's words. His tone was bitter and harsh. "Excuse me, when I'm not overflowing with joy upon the death of all the people important to me. I feel so bad for having you disturbed with my grief."

"Oh you don't have to, Alistair. Because I couldn't care less."

"You know, Morrigan, I was told to not judge people by their looks, but you are really the cold-hearted bitch you look like!" Subconsciously, Alistair made a step toward the witch, and glared at her.

"Ohh, so you want me to stare down until I drop death? Clever. Just don't expect me to tremble in fear in return."

"Enough now," Lenya interrupted both of her companions suddenly in a loud, resolute voice. Then her tone grew quieter again – soft even, as her gaze fell upon him.

"What do you wanted to say, Alistair?"

He gaped at her for a moment, dumbfounded. It was so unaccustomed for him to hear his actual name from her lips, all the more in that kind tone. When he thought he had made it to somehow grasp her character, Lenya didn't fail to surprise him with new shades outside the categories of being ruthless and crazy.

"I- ..uum," Alistair blinked, still puzzled, but cleared his throat in the attempt to shrug this feeling off. He was glad that he found his voice again before Lenya could fall into her usual exasperated posture again. "Yes, we should talk, where we head to after Lothering. Have you looked at the treaties?"

"No, why should I?" Her answer was flat and short. Finally something familiar from her.

"What your dim-witted comrade is trying to say in all his stuttering glory is, that we have treaties for the Dalish elves, the dwarves and the circle of confinement...err... Magi. "

At that, Lenya's confident voice shrunk to a tiny one, eyes downcast. "My clan has already traveled north. We won't reach them anymore." Arai whined and licked her hand, as if he wanted to spend comfort.

For a moment she looked so sad again, and Alistair quite didn't know how to react properly on that. "...Well there must be other clans we can visit instead for help, right?"

Another stretched pause followed. "Yes, there are other clan's in the Brecilian Forest, I suppose. But my people put value on remaining hidden within those borders, so finding them won't be easy."

"So, do you want to go there first then?" To Alistair this was the most sensible plan right now, because Lenya was a Dalish elf after all.

Alistair could practically see how she hesitated and considered this option given to her. "I- I don't know." Her eyes wandered to Morrigan. "What do you think?"

"Well to be honest; 'Tis best to go to Denerim and lure this Loghain out. Kill him, then we have enough time for gathering forces in whole Ferelden."

"Oh how clever of you, Morrigan. He would never expect that from us there. And he has also no advantage or army. So let's head to Denerim immediately."

"Killing Loghain?" Lenya's face brightened up all the sudden, and as much Alistair appreciated her enthusiasm in that matter, it was the totally wrong plan for the beginning.

It pained him to admit but Loghain had to wait, until the time was right to let him pay. Blindly following the urge of revenge, – how a huge part of him desired – would only result in a quick death for both of them. Thus the Blight would spread in Ferelden and Loghain would have won after all.

Not a chance that he was going to let this happen.

"What I wanted to say is Lenya, it would be too dangerous now to face a Teyrn hiding behind an army and within the palace, while we are on our own right now. So let's find support in our allies first before dealing with this traitor."

The Dalish looked at her fellow Warden and sighed." Nothing ever can be simple, eh? This is annoying. All of it."

"Maybe we could simply ask the archdemon to wander on and leave Ferelden?" Alistair joked and felt Lenya's stare boring into him as response. "Hey just a try to light up the mood."

"But a lame one, human, so better spare me with those."

"Do I get at least one point for trying?" Unwanted, a small, crooked grin washed into his features, but he couldn't help it.

"No," she replied bluntly. Now that was the Lenya he got to know. At least she appeared less distressed now, or the paining hunger let him already seeing things.

"So, if not taking on that Loghain first," Morrigan said, annoyed."...we agree to not have a plan after all these talking? Tis great, really."

Alistair tried his best to ignore the witch. "I think it's best, when we catch some news and food here in Lothering first, and a place to camp later on. Then we can talk again. Anyway, whatever you decide Lenya where to go first is best, I'll follow. Though I can give you further directions for each of those routes, if you want."

Now where the offer has been made, Alistair only hoped she would take it. Especially what concerned the first part. Please, Lenya.

Morrigan snorted. "Try not to be too useful, fool."

"Sounds good to me, " Lenya eventually said and started walking the path down. "Let's sell those goods off to a merchant, restock and continue with our travel. I don't want to linger long in a shem-village, after all." The elven woman made another few leisurely steps, before stopping dead track in her movements and turning around to Alistair, bewilderment etched in her features.

"Wait...did I hear that right? You want me to lead?"

.

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---

A/N: Teeeagaaan, whooo is dis woman dat she is not telling about my husband? XD Arl Eamon is left out on purpose for now and for later plot reasons. However it will get explained within the story, so don't worry ;)

Chapter 13: Full Of Crazy

 

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Lenya's green eyes still stared at him in bewilderment.

The silence in between slowly morphed into an awkward one, making Alistair feel uncomfortable.

"Well...yes," the Warden gave in. Her eyes narrowed. "When I lead we will only run in circles again – you know that. Would make a good laugh for the darkspawn but is -notwithstanding - ineffective." He would do anything to support her – if she would let him – but he never was and never would be a leader. The Korcari Wilds had been just one example for it.

Much to his torment, Lenya remained silent. Morrigan spoke instead.

Wonderful.

"You are the senior Warden of your order. And you step aside to shove the responsibility to the new Warden instead? Hmm, why am I not surprised, I wonder?"

Alistair glowered at her. He was still angry on her for distasteful and low comments earlier– and her overall presence. Though this was another story.

"Humans," Lenya burst out all the sudden, tone hateful. Everyone turned to her. "That's just so fitting for you to not take responsibly, when needed."

Alistair sighed and inched closer to the sturdy woman of an elf. "What? What do you want to hear? That I rather like to follow than to lead? That's it. And to be honest Lenya, you haven't been really the person who was following orders until now. So it's better for you to lead. I won't argue about it, anyway." Although her stare was fierce, he didn't avert his eyes. He had made his point clear and would not abide. Not this time.

Then she looked down and moments passed in silence again. "Alright if you say so..." Lenya eventually shrugged and turned around to go.

Alistair blinked, momentarily lost in astonishment of her sudden mood swing and in the try to make sense of her behavior just now.

He failed.

While he got what he wanted and the elven woman had agreed to lead after all, he felt like an idiot all the sudden. Maybe this had been what she had intended from the start? Defeated and still clueless of her actual intent, the Warden followed his group the path down into the actual village.

.

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---

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Lothering was chaotic.

There was really no better fitting word for it, as Alistair looked around. For a village so small it was truly overcrowded. In every corner there were people to see. The more fortunate ones had the luxury of an own tent, but even those were riled close together to buy space for yet another tent. The whimpering sound of crying children were audible everywhere, and an overall atmosphere of despair and hopelessness lingered in the air, giving Alistair a slight chill. Even Lenya seemed mildly perturbed by the sight as she stopped and took the depressing scenery in.

"Hey elf!" a farmer called out as they passed him by, making Lenya glowering into his direction.

Oh no, here we go again. They'll never learn, will they?

"What, shem?" she growled annoyed and stepped closer, posture threatening.

"You look like trouble. We don't need trouble in the village. We have enough of our own, already. Just you know." the bearded man in simple clothes retorted.

Lenya tilted her head slightly, one eyebrow raised. "Sooo – I look like trouble, hmm? What makes you think so?"

Maybe, Alistair thought, she wasn't taking the leading issue so lightly as thought. At the other hand was a simple mentioning of the word 'elf' in her presence enough to let her go all stabbity.

Alistair sighed, followed by a half smile. "It's probably the blood still smeared all over you. Just a guess, though."

Lenya let a sound out that was similar to a scoff. "Maybe the bandit scum should have been more cooperative then..."

The man's eyes grew wide. "You have ushered those bandits away? Great, now there is no one here anymore who stops the damn refugees from coming here."

"Tis how gratefulness looks like? Always glad to help then," Morrigan said, tone typical sarcastic.

"Don't mind her."Alistair pointed at a peeved Morrigan."I do that all the time. What is happening here in Lothering?"

The man's eyes narrowed and his tone gained a bit of desperation. "Can't you tell? The Bann owning this land has left us behind and took his army with him. We are on our own now – except for a few Templar's – and in a few days, everyone who isn't quick or witty enough to leave will be darkspawn prey."

"Well I suppose we should be quick with leaving this place too, then." Lenya shrugged. "Let's get on with business. No more time to waste." She started to move forward again, eyes roaming the area in the search for a merchant.

Alistair remained congealed where he stood. He couldn't believe that she could act so nonchalantly about what she just had heard. "Lenya!" he called after her, making her stop with an exasperated groan. "Shouldn't we help? Isn't there something we can do?"

"What do you want me to do? If you want to suggest that we should stay here and fight for this pack of shem's, you'll be the first I'll feed off to the horde. No! That's the answer," she pressed forth through gritted teeth, making it sound like a hiss.

"But we are Grey Warden."

"Yes the only Grey Wardens in Ferelden now and if you want to throw your life away for a bunch of humans that wouldn't even value the effort, feel free to do so. I, in the meanwhile, try to do something about the Blight which is more important. Stupid as it was, I have sworn to do this and a Dalish never breaks an oath." Her eyes fixed his for a moment, before she turned around to leave. "...not that a human would know about such things, anyway." Without to wait for a reaction, Lenya dashed into the direction of the merchant she had justly discovered.

Morrigan gave the baffled Alistair a faint, gleeful smirk, before she followed the Dalish woman. "I do begin to understand, why you are supposed to be the one who is leading here, Lenya. You are far more reasonable." Arai barked, as if he wanted to agree to Morrigan's words.

Lenya scoffed. "Honestly, I thought his idiocy has limits. Guess I was wrong."

Evil witch club one, Alistair zero, he thought, caught between anger and resignation. Alistair didn't like the sudden team up of Morrigan and Lenya, even less how much the witch seemed to enjoy it. Maker, even the dog had agreed with that nuisance of a woman, which left him all alone and in no position to argue about something. Sure his plan of saving Lothering hadn't been exactly thought-out. He saw that despite her harsh words that she has been probably right with what she was saying.

Still, looking around and seeing all those dejected faces of people who have already relinquished all hope wasn't right. There had been so much death and anguish already in the past days and weeks, he couldn't bear to stand here and do nothing. Ironically, it would still happen that Lothering would perish in the end, and there was nothing he could do about it. Even as the Grey Warden that he was. In times of war one had always to choose their priorities and often has to sacrifice minor goals to achieve the greater one. He understood its principle but...hated it. Alistair didn't know what made him more mad; that Lenya has been right after all or that he felt so helpless about the whole situation in Lothering.

Most likely a mixture of both.

Alistair took a deep breath, which trembled in his throat and suppressed all feelings that urged to come up again. Would it be always like this? Seeing people dying, the whole journey long? Alistair was aware that he was probably too emotional about it all and should handle it better, but then again he couldn't help to feel this way. Those feelings of guilt and sorrow still anchored in his being since leaving Flemeth's hut couldn't be so simply willed away by a pragmatic mind, how the situation would require it.

Lenya, however, appeared cold and calculating, threading unyielding her way. This was why it was maybe the best that she was the one leading. She possessed that practical way of proceeding Alistair was lacking at the moment – or so it seemed to him. Still in thoughts, Alistair took the corner to the right in which Lenya had disappeared.

"What?" he said perplexed, as a small group of lay sisters crossed his way, muttering and cursing something about a greedy elf. Alas, he hadn't even to ask whom they meant - he already knew it. Lenya has been 'practical' again. Oh Maker. With a frustrated groan the Warden advanced further, just to find the said elf happily negotiating with a shady-looking type of merchant, selling all the items, she had previously found.

On the other hand, he thought while watching her, Lenya was maybe too pragmatic.

"So," Alistair cleared his throat to announce his presence," ...funny story, I ran in a few people muttering about an elf and not in a friendly way. Guess you really know how to quickly find new friends, huh?"

Lenya looked up from the bow she was observing. "You want something to eat today, I take it?" She pointed at the man before her. "He is selling food. Also it's not my fault that those loudly bickering shem women couldn't outbid the good offer this merchant shem has made me."

"Now finally someone in this rat hole with the sense for business," the merchant agreed with a rumbling laughter.

Way too pragmatic.

"Though if it soothes your annoyingly goody-goody conscious, Alistair," Morrigan chipped in " – those lovely chantry women have cursed us to 'get what we deserve' before they ran off. Apparently we get that now. With a discount."

"Do I even want to know the rest?" Alistair sighed, nerved. From all the persons present, he supposed that he was most likely the only one blessed with such a thing called conscious. Then he noticed that Lenya was still testing the bow and couldn't help to ask. "A bow? What for?" Lenya looked up again, raising one eyebrow. "I mean, I know for what a bow is used," he added quickly. "It's just you are skilled with dual wielding, so why a bow now?"

Lenya sighed. "Obviously I want to use it for the hunt. We won't have the possibility to buy food most the time on our journey, and if you don't want to nibble the bark from the tree then, I'll need one."

"Oh." escaped his lips, mildly impressed. "So you are skilled with a bow, too?"

"Not really. I learned only the basics, was more interested in daggers and swords." A faint smile followed before she lowered her eyes. "That is why I never went alone to hunt. I was – " Lenya suddenly fell silent and for the brink of a moment a frown grazed her features. If Alistair had blinked, he would have missed it. "Never mind. My skills should suffice to hunt a rabbit or two," she added after a few seconds, voice and gaze confident as ever.

"I see." Alistair stated, puzzled of her saddened reaction in between. "That is ….thoughtful." Surprisingly so, his mind extended. She is indeed planning ahead.

Maybe he was misjudging her.

"We should purchase right before leaving this shem place. I'm not fond of carrying a bag around while running back and forth." Then she looked up to the merchant. "And you better make sure that I will get every single bit, I have asked for then for the exact same price as appointed. Here a little prepayment." She handed him a few silver coins, followed by a dark scowl. "If you choose to betray me, just because you think I'm one stupid elf then I will make sure that this will be the last thing you are doing in your life. Ever. My blades aren't for decoration, after all."

Morrigan smirked." 'tis true. She just beheaded a bandit."

"N-no." To Alistair it had the impression that the man just paled a few shades. Scary women were scary after all. " I would never betray a woman with such a good sense of business. Believe me. Your trust is well placed," he swore her, while taking the money.

"Oh sure, because you look so trustworthy after all." Alistair groaned. "Anyway, where to head next? I would prefer to sit down and eat something ...but that would be a wrong thing to do between all those starving people. So scratch that."

"On the other side of the bridge is a tavern, we should visit." Morrigan already set herself in motion.

"Taaa-vern?" Lenya rolled this foreign word on her tongue and scrutinized Alistair with an inquiring look.

He gave in to the urge to smile on that. "Yes. A bad smelling place where humans gather and drink indefinable alcoholic beverage until they pass out. Though also a good place to catch the newest, wildest gossip. It pains me to admit but...Morrigan is right. We should go there to catch up with the events happened after Ostagar...since we were too busy with ...not dying during that time."

"Oh, I see. Sounds disgusting." The Dalish made a face."... Though I should have expected that. Humans and their strange usages," she added with a shrug before following Morrigan. Arai ran happily panting after her, leaving Alistair once again at the rear of the party.

Suddenly a small, red-haired boy grope Lenya by her arm, and more the surprise than the force made her stop."Have you seen my mommy?" He asked her with eyes wide open, face and voice tear-struck.

Lenya blinked surprised, then her gaze wandered from her arm to the grime-stained child and back, before she harshly pulled her arm away. "No. Get lost," she barked at the child and grimaced irked at her arm which was stained by the child's snot now. The boy peered shocked at her for a moment before he started crying again and ran away.

"No one is helping meeeee." His yelp was still audible, even as he had vanished between a line of houses.

Morrigan raised an eyebrow and looked after him. "Amusing sight."

Wow. Just wow. Alistair needed a moment to stomach her new moment of coldheartedness before he eventually reacted. "Ice queen," he pressed forth under a cough, words not fully understandable.

Lenya turned to him, head slightly tilted. "Did you say anything?"

"N-No-" Alistair harrumphed. "You know, just got something wrong in my throat. …just lead on." Ice queen. His eyes narrowed and fixed her angrily as he followed the elf over the bridge.

Right before the tavern Lenya stopped, eyes widened. "Wait. Where is Arai? He was right behind you, Morrigan. So where is he?"

"Don't look at me like this." The young witch inched away, perturbed. "Do you think I care for your mangy beast? We already have Alistair, so is that not enough?"

"Haha, very funny. Not."

In that moment an excited tail-wagging Mabari came back and lay a slobbered, half eaten and muddy cake to Alistair's feet. Then he sat down and looked expectantly up to the Warden.

"Is that for me?" Alistair asked, voice etched with disbelief. The hound barked once. "Err, but it's full of ….things and old. Arai whined briefly and let his head hung down.

Lenya surveyed the situation a bit amused, one site of her lips quirked lightly up. "Now you have hurt his feelings. I thought you being raised by dogs should understand the meaning of a gift from a fellow companion." The dog barked in agreement, his eyes still fixed on Alistair.

Said man peered confused to the Dalish woman and then to the cake. "Err – yes. Thank you then, Arai. I will stuff it in my bag for now and ...eat it later." He bow down to his present and picked it up with a still puzzled expression. Was that humor of her...or intended denouncing? The lines concerning Lenya were blurring ever so swiftly, so he left his own question out in the open.

"Maybe I should make sure you really eat it. Not that you hurt his feelings afterwards. You wouldn't want that, right?" Morrigan chipped in, equally entertained by the sight.

Arai barked happily and returned contented to the elf's side.

.

.

---

.

The volume in Dane's refuge was bustling.

If one thing can be counted on than that enough alcohol could turn even the most sorrow-struck people into the happier sorts. Voices and laughter everywhere and yet everyone seemed to silence down as the group of four entered the dim-lighted place.

Two men in heavy armor stepped forward and positioned themselves before the Dalish and her companions. The air was growing tense and to Alistair it was as if none of the tavern's guest dared to breath anymore. Uh-oh.

"This must be our lucky day. The Maker has blessed us indeed. We have searched all day for an elf like before our eyes and right before we thought we won't find her, she justly walks in here." A tall, bearded man announced with a sluggish grin. Some of his men were laughing, making it obvious to Alistair that there were more than just the two up in front. His eyes roamed through the room, counting five...maybe six equally well armed soldiers. Either way they were outnumbered. Great.

"Lucky day? I think your luck is ending here," Lenya snarled and straitened her posture. One of the few things of her that Alistair could read easily. She was ready to attack, like a cat before the jump. "What do you want, filthy shem?" Her hands fidgeted on the sides of her blades, though yet she wasn't drawing them. Alistair knew this was just a matter of seconds.

The man bared his teeth to a grin again. "Me? Nothing. But Teyrn Loghain wants your head." He paused, looking past her to Alistair. "...and not only yours."

Alistair felt a fiery wave of hatred jolting through his body." Loghain's men," he growled darkly and his fingers reached almost automatically for his sword.

Morrigan chuckled. "Oooh, charming. Idle talk again before beheading them? Why don't we skip this part and go straight to the decapitation to save time, Lenya?"

The elven woman smirked and draw her weapons. "Sounds like a fine plan for me."

Alistair as well was ready to charge as suddenly a red-haired woman in Chantry clothes approached, and nearly jumped in between the line of the soldiers and the group. Alistair immediately stopped moving, but couldn't get rid of the thought that this woman was either crazy or suicidal. Probably both.

"Hold on. There is surely no need for violence." The woman intervened, voice etched with a heavy accent. Orlesian, perhaps? Alistair's mind guessed while he held his tensed, cautious posture up. "Those travelers are certainly just on the search for shelter in those dark times, like everyone here."

Lenya's head shot angrily in the direction of her. "Stop speaking for me, human!"

"And there she is; the white dove of peace – send from the Chantry, no less. Why am I not surprised?" In Morrigan's hand sizzled already a little but powerful electric light, and she only held it grudgingly back from firing.

"Travelers?" The soldier's captain nearly spat the word out. " No sister, they are surely more than this. They are traitors who killed the king. If you side with them, you are no better. So step aside, sister. Or die with them. Your choice."

Arai growled deeply and menacing in return, positioned himself aside his mistress.

"Exactly, Arai. No one is calling me a traitor and lives afterwards. Especially not Loghain's scum." Lenya was the one who stroke first and ably whirled around with her sword, but the force of it got parried by one of the men.

Talk is over, I see. Good, hollered in Alistair's head and he gave in to the unusual, seething feeling of hatred inside, storming forward to pull one soldier down and killed him with one powerful thrust. The people who had listened to the prior exchange with a morbid curiosity fled as quick as they could away from the danger zone and covered themselves under the tables and chairs. To his big surprise the red-head weren't one of those, instead she fought at their side and against the soldiers.

Despite the soldiers being heavy-armored and well armed, the fight was rather one-sided, especially since Morrigan found amusement in jolting lightening bolts into their direction. Lightening and metal didn't seem to match too well in the end. Or perfectly, from Morrigan's point of view.

Lenya was about to make the final swipe against the captain, as he spoke up. " Stop. I – I surrender. You have won." More out of confusion than compassion the elf halted her motion and lowered her blade.

The red-haired woman, – covered in blood herself – stepped forward and directed her word to the Dalish. "See. They have learned their lesson. So we can stop fighting now."

Alistair found the reaction of Morrigan quite amusing; she let out an exaggerated groan. Wait, did I just thought amusing in connection with Morrigan? Kill me now.

"I couldn't have said it better, Morrigan." Lenya said, eyes narrowed. "Let me phrase it that your small shem mind understand it: No!"

"But he seems to regret his act. Why this senseless killing then?"

Now Lenya was the one groaning. "Apparently to hinder that this scum reports back to Loghain. Now step aside or I will run this sword through you as well." The woman frowned, but did as told.

"I will not go down without a fight," the captain screamed and dashed toward the elf – just to lose his head in the progress.

"What a happy dismemberment day, it is. Eww." Alistair grimaced and tried to get rid at least a bit of the blood in his face. "So much for reporting back, however."

Lenya turned her head toward him. "Problems with it?"

"Since those were Loghain's men – no not at all. Just all the blood..."

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "Maybe next time we can politely ask them to die without bleeding to death, like sister righteous would have loved to do it."

Said woman cleared her throat and peered to Lenya. "I'm sorry it comes to this, but you probably had your reasons. May I introduce myself? I'm Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the chantry here in Lothering. Or I was."

Lenya sheathed her blades again and crossed the arms over her chest. "And this should interest me, because...?" Slowly the guests of the tavern came back forth from their hiding places, sensing the worst was over now.

"Where does a sister learns to fight like this?" Alistair asked, blinking.

"I wasn't always a lay sister," Leliana sighed. "In fact, I'm not even fully a sister now – but I digress. What I was trying to say I want you to help you with your mission. You will need help. The Maker told me to do this."

Three pairs of eyes shot in her direction, blinking almost in sync. Lenya remembered how to speak first."Okay – aside the fact that I couldn't care less about your shem god – I think it's time to step slowly backward, and away from your human craziness. By the Creators..."

"The Maker has told you? Rriiight." Amidst all the crazy, Alistair found it quite funny how Lenya looked so ...appalled of this revelation. A rare sight indeed.

Another, more exaggerated sigh. "I know how this sounds but I had a vision..."

"Indeed, that makes it more coherent. Oh wait..." Morrigan interrupted her.

Though Leliana ignored her completely. "...and as a Grey Warden you will need all the help you can get. This is why I'll come along." To put more weight on her words, she looked at the elf with a stern and determined expression.

Somehow Alistair started to like this woman, because no other human – or person in general – could make Lenya so speechless and congealed at the same time before. Somehow he envied her for that talent.

"You- WHAT?" Seemingly Lenya had found her voice again. "No. No. And let me repeat it: NO! I have enough of crazy around me already." The elf breathed heavily, still caught in bewilderment of that shem's words.

"I have enough of this, too much of insanity inside of here for me. I'll wait outside." Morrigan said and quickly turned to leave the tavern.

As Leliana noticed that her words had rather the opposite effect, the tone in her voice became a bit desperate. "B-but I can fight, and I want to do some good instead of sitting in a Chantry. That's why I left there."

Somehow this sentence sounded familiar to Alistair, so he raised his voice in her favor. "While I find this vision thing rather odd, her plead sounds wholehearted. Also she seems skilled with blades and we do need every help we can find."

His voice seem to eventually have broken whatever spell Lenya had stopped from moving. "I think I made my point clear enough, puppy. I want neither that human god, nor any more human insanity near me." With that she left Dane's refuge as well, with Arai close behind.

Leliana lowered her gaze, saddened. "I see. Then I will stay here instead and try to help the people in Lothering."

Alistair sighed. The image of her staying here until the darkspawn would swarm Lothering made him uneasy. "You know...Lenya is– " he stopped in his words as he noticed that he quite didn't know how to describe her. " She is– ...appeared," he corrected himself, "...rude. Though you must regard that she... – we - have been through a lot the past few weeks, and no time yet to stomach that. And I doubt we'll ever get the chance to. But my point is... your offer is well meant and I won't forget about it. Just give her a bit time to see it in that way too. Goodbye...and don't run away." Alistair gave her a genuine smile,before he turned around to leave.

He was determined to speak with Lenya again what concerned Leliana... – once the elven woman had slept, eaten and was in general better mood. He cringed. Oh well, not the easiest task ahead, indeed.

Although we are already full of crazy, he thought smiling while leaving the tavern, there is always place for one more.

Chapter 14: Anywhere but here

.

Alistair found Lenya leaning on a wooden beam of the tavern and was - to his big surprise- waiting for him. "So, that Loghain shem made himself regent?" I don't know what this word exactly means, but I suppose after he has sent bounty hunter after us – nothing good."

Alistair gaped at her, flabbergasted. "Where did you hear that?"

The Dalish pointed nonchalantly at two humans behind her. "Shem-shit-chat I overheard, while you were busy with talking to that nutty 'I-hear- voices'- woman."

The Warden glowered grimly in response. "Regent? By the Maker. So he was really after the throne. I should have known it."

Morrigan, -who had silently watched that little exchange - raised her voice now as well. "This is not all. You heard what those pesky soldiers said, hmm? I mean, before we killed them. The Grey Wardens have been declared as the traitor of your king, and apparently a bounty has been set on any who survived." Her lips curved up to a smile. "Almost ironic, isn't it? Though, this makes proceeding here in Lothering a bit more...difficult."

"Says the witch, who is an apostate," he remarked dryly and earned an icily glare of the woman. "Alright, alright. So we have to be extra cautious then, I take it?"

"Well, I hadn't planned to linger here longer than needed, anyway. No way I will spend the night here in this packed place with all the humans." Lenya said, irked. " Anyway, there you have your needed news, puppy. I hope you are happy now," she added after a short pause, one eyebrow raised.

"Incredibly happy. This is getting better by the minute." Alistair sighed. "So we have not only to travel through Ferelden to gather an army, and fight the upcoming blight by ourselves – No. We also have to take care of a power-hungry mad tyrant, who declared himself justly king. Great."

"I'm so baffled how you are able to state the obvious, Alistair – but all this talking is obnoxious. I say, let's find a place to camp for the night first. If you go on with those pointless whining about facts you cannot change, then we will stand here until the darkspawn are upon us," Morrigan responded, tone sharp and nerved.

"Yes, Morrigan has a point, after all." The elvish woman chipped in. Lenya stretched her limps, feeling the burning ache in every fiber of her body. That the hunger was nagging inside of her as well, didn't really help either. "Let's move on and see if we find anything helpful, before leaving this dreaded place." With a sigh, the Dalish set herself reluctantly in motion, knowing if she would stay here any longer, she wouldn't care to move for probably the rest of the day.

Lenya glared at Alistair, as he passed her by toward the fields. She still hadn't stomached that this human had shoved all the responsibility for this monumental task to her. Creators, if she was honest, she didn't even know where to start. Yes, she was glad that she hadn't to follow the order of a human, but at the same time was asking herself how she should manage this all, and survive in the end.

It was, in fact, ridiculous and mind-blowing.

Alistair noticed that he was walking too fast, and lowered his pace to give her the lead again. How generous, shot through her mind, hateful. "You know, Lenya, I was thinking..."

" And you wanted us to take part in this rarely event? Wow." Morrigan interrupted him.

"Haha, you get funnier by the minute, Morrigan," the young Warden retorted, dryly. "However, as said I was thinking about all this. And don't we need more help, then we currently have? Don't get me wrong, I truly 'enjoy' to get insulted by Morrigan any minute, or getting slobbered presents from your mabari...but are you sure this will ...err...suffice?"

"What are you implying?" Lenya sighed and halted.

Alistair craned his neck, looking almost pleadingly at her. "I know what you were saying about that woman – Leliana – but should we really reject help so...voluntary? I mean you said the same about Morrigan, as I objected. That we need any help we can get."

"Except that I'm no crazy lunatic, I might add."

"Not so sure about that..." Alistair muttered quietly under his breath. Though regarding the expression Morrigan made, it was obvious that she had heard it.

Now you aren't only dense, but deaf as well, are you? Wonderful," the Dalish grumbled. "Just to make it clear, once and for all. If you want to hinder that I feed her directly to the darkspawn, leave her be." For the first time, she was actually glad to have taken the lead, otherwise the puppy surely would have brought her along. Ugh. Her mood was already bad enough, even without having that human in the party and her constant ramble about the shem god.

No, thanks.

 

---

"Shok ebasit hissra. Meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun."

Weird chants spoken in a foreign tongue reached her fine ears, soon after they had passed some arguing Chasind barbarians. Lenya looked up and gasped involuntary. Almost directly before her stood a giant...person imprisoned in a huge, fitting cage. Gingerly, she inched closer, surveying the creatures dark-toned skin and the long, braided, white hair bounded to a ponytail. The giant, muscular...man had his eyes closed, expression all calm and repeated continuously his unusual chant. It was definitely not a human, nor an elf for sure. She had never seen such a giant creature before, who was frightening and fascinating at the same time.

The world beyond the borders of her clan were full of those wonders, as it seemed.

"I have nothing to say to entertain you, elf." His rumbling, dark voice made her jump back and her heart pounded violently against her ribcage. Lenya blinked, momentarily caught in shock of that strange man suddenly speaking to her.

"Hmm, tis a qunari, I see," Morrigan asserted and approached closer to the cage, until she stood beside Lenya.

"You are stating the obvious, woman. Now leave me in peace." His dark-red eyes only lingered for a few fractions on the witch, before he looked away again. The Dalish woman dared to observe him closer and recognized for the first time that his face looked weary; dark shadows lay under those odd eyes. His skin was partially scarred, and it was obvious to her that he was a man of age, a seasoned warrior. He honestly looked like as if he could triturate a darkspawn with his huge, bare hands only.

An appealing thought to her, somehow.

"Why is such a proud creature imprisoned here in Lothering of all things, I wonder?" The witch asked, curiously.

"Why are you asking?"

"Okaaay, I think we are walking in circles here, though this time only figuratively. I think we should move on," Alistair chipped in from a safe distance. The glare Lenya threw him ensured him that she had another opinion and plans – like always. The Warden sighed resignedly and remained with Arai in the background.

Lenya inhaled deeply and mustered her courage to raise her voice eventually. "My name is Lenya, Dalish from the Mahariel clan. I'm pleased to meet you," she introduced herself and nodded lightly. Alistair's jaw almost went slack and he watched her complaisant behavior with blank astonishment.

"Are you mocking me? Or is that indeed an unforeseen politeness?" The caged qunari hesitated for a moment, unsure what to do with such an unexpected sentiment. "I'm Sten of the Beeresaad – the vanguard of the qunari people," he added. "I suggest you leave me to my fate."

The elven woman knitted her brows. "And what fate would that be?"

"I'm in a cage, am I not? Placed here by the chantry. And I will die soon."

"The chantry?" Morrigan scoffed, disdainful." See how wonderful they are? Leaving him here as prey for the darkspawn. " She turned to Lenya. "If you see no use for him, let him at least free."

"I cannot. I must make amend for what I've done," Sten mentioned, matter of factly.

"What is it that you have done?" Alistair asked from behind.

"I murdered people of a farmhold. Eight humans, in addiction to the children." Silence suddenly fell over the place for a moment, even Morrigan and Lenya seemed at a loss for words. Right, I must have asked this, huh? Alistair had felt uncomfortable a lot of times lately, but it was nothing compared to the level he felt now.

Arai was the one who broke the tranquility. He turned quickly around and started to growl loudly at the approaching group of men.

"Grey Warden!" One of the men called out to her, making her facing them with an unwilling groan. They were dressed in simple clothes, some armed with a mere dagger - but beyond that they looked like the average village people here.

The group of four men came closer to her. "Maker forgive, I don't care if you have killed King Cailan or not. But the bounty on your head will feed a lot of hungry bellies..."

The Dalish observed the shem's behavior with an exhausted and dismissive sigh. "I'm tired of fighting today. Just leave. I give you that one chance..."

Alistair hand fidgeted nervously at the pommel of his sword. He didn't want to draw his weapon against such a simple bunch, but if they would attack his fellow Warden, he surely would. Up until now Lenya was handling the situation with grace and unexpected nonviolently.

"So you die now here, Grey Warden." Suddenly the man swooped forward with his dagger and caught Lenya by surprise, leaving her only able to back away a bit. The impact of the weapon still brushed her arm, leaving a long bleeding scratch in the process.

"Bastard!" Lenya howled out of pain and gritted her teeth. Quickly, she unsheathed her blade and gutted him with only two steps forward. "I said, I don't want to fight." Coldly, she watched his bloodied body sinking limp to the ground, before she glared menacing at the remaining humans. The next few moments became chaotic as the other three refugees stormed toward the party, more out of desperation than anything else. Their inept attack had not the slightest of chance against the well trained and skilled group of a rogue, templar, a witch and a muscled mabari. Even without Morrigan's magic the fight was as soon over as it had begun.

Lenya mustered her bleeding scratch with disdain. " Humans. I offered them to just walk away and this is what I get out of it. This will teach me to do this again," she spat out in anger.

"I think those refugees acted merely out of desperation, there was no room for rationality anymore." Alistair looked at their lifeless bodies on the ground, sighing. "Sadly, though." He stepped closer to her, observing the wound. "Still we should treat it, let me see."

As he reached out to gingerly grasp her arm, Lenya backed away. "Hands off!" she barked harshly, but seeing Alistair's offended expression made her involuntarily tune down. "It's just a mere scratch. Nothing what a tincture of elfroot couldn't heal. I'm no delicate flower."

The smile returned into Alistair's face. "Delicate flower? No, that is how I definitely wouldn't put it. Still let me help yo- " Arai's action distracted him from finishing this sentence. "What by the Maker is he doing?"

The Dalish shrugged. "Looks like as if he is peeing on the one human who has injured me. Good dog." The mabari barked happily in return and wagged his tail.

Alistair blinked, puzzled. "Err...how lovely."

"So you are a Grey Warden?" rumbled a deep voice from behind, making Lenya turn around.

"Apparently so," she answered the qunari's obvious question slight annoyed, looking him straight into those red eyes.

"Surprising. My people heard stories about your order. It seems that not all stories are true."

"Oh, is that so?" she continued her stoic observation and Sten held her gaze with ease. Alistair couldn't help but to wonder who would win this staring contest, alas he hadn't weeks to spare to find that out. Lenya tilted her head, an idea suddenly forming in her mind. "Qunari...what if you could be outside this cage and still would be able to make amend for what you have done?"

"Speak plainly, elf."

"I'm not interested in whether you are guilty or not. That is your own business. But you could help me to fight against the blight," the elven woman said, tone confident and her eyes still not leaving his huge frame.

"Helping to fight the blight?" Sten appeared to hesitate for a second before he added, "If the revered mother parts of the key to this cage, I could. Though it's more likely I will await my death here, then as if that happens."

Lenya stared annoyed at the complicated lock. In moments like this she cursed that she hadn't spent more time practicing lock-picking, when she had the chance. So now she had to search this shem place for someone named "revered mother" instead – whoever that was. The Dalish woman didn't know.

"So are we done standing uselessly around here, or should I brace myself for more wasting of my time, hmm? Just wondering..." Morrigan's voice put her out of her thoughts.

"Yes we are. Let's find that revered shem woman, free Sten and leave this place." She set herself in motion, regardless of having no idea where to actually go or search for this shem.

"Good plan, except that you are willing to take a murderer with you, maybe." Alistair arched an eyebrow as he saw her walking in the wrong direction and grinned. Too proud to ask, huh? "Oh and by the way, Lenya – the chantry is in that way."

She abruptly turned around in the direction Alistair had pointed. "Chantry?"

Morrigan sighed. "Yes, hard to miss, in fact. Tis the overly huge waste of place and stone not far from here. That's the chantry and we most likely found their lovely vassals in there. As the revered mother. So let's get to it. The earlier we are away from this building again, the better tis."

Lenya found herself agreeing on that.

---

The chantry was in every aspect how Lenya had imagined such a shem place – huge and conspicuous. She neither understood the concept of building such an enormous place of stone for one god, nor why all here was still so boastful when outside their own people were starving. Then again, she had better and more important things to do then to think about the idiocy of the shem's society.

They walked past odd humans in robes and Lenya heard them praying and chanting to their shem god for help. She felt uneasy and in addiction to that, a feeling of hate crept slowly its way to the surface. The young woman has never been an ardent listener when Hahren Paivel rambled on with his stories, but nonetheless she took very much proud in who she was. And now of all things, she was in that huge stony building of their god, together with those shem's who tried to force their religion upon the elves and enslaved them so long ago. It had worked with the flat-ears in the end, but she was a Dalish and she would never submit herself to their faith just to please them.

Never.

Grossed of all the thoughts, Lenya watched a woman kneeling down, a pleading chant to the Maker audible from her lips. Lenya scoffed as she passed her by and accelerated her pace.

She really hated every single part of this place.

"You indeed seem to enjoy being here, huh?" Alistair had observed her since the had entered the chantry and the obvious dislike etched in her face was hard to overlook. He knew that Dalish elves had their own religion and weren't fond of the chantry and the Maker, but for Lenya it truly seemed to be a punishment just to walk through the halls of this place.

There were times in his life when he thought similar.

"You are asking me if I enjoy seeing all those fools praying to a god and religion, whose vassals enslaved my people and robbed them of everything they had? And this all only because they didn't want to bend down to their will and belief? Yes, very much," Lenya snapped at him with barely contained rage.

Morrigan couldn't help to snicker at her comment. "Seems like I'm not the only one eager to leave this atrocious place."

Alistair heaved a breath, bewildered from her intense reaction. Note to myself; touchy topic. Avoid when you want to live. He thought it was for the better if he would spare any further comments on it. Walking around in the chantry with Morrigan,whose appearance literally screamed 'apostate' was thrilling enough for his taste already. Inwardly, Alistair was asking himself when the next best Templar would come and sprung upon her. Knowing his ex-brethren still well enough, he knew it was only a matter of moments.

Well, at least it would be amusing for him to watch this happen.

"Do you know the chant of light, my child?" A younger lay sister of the chantry asked as Lenya passed her by and earned herself a hating glare of the elf.

"I'm neither your child, shem, nor am I interested in the chant of your human god," Lenya growled at the now daunted woman and stormed away. Alistair was in fact amazed that it was possible to see her mood dropping any further. The Warden sighed once again. Oh wonderful, the meeting with the revered mother will surely run smoothly.

"You, woman!" A full armored Templar suddenly stepped into Morrigan's way, his face completely covered by a helm. Showtime, Alistair thought, sarcastically, and looked forward to at least one amusing scene today.

Morrigan's yellow eyes gleamed defiantly at the man, crossing her arms."What?"

"You seem odd to me. I'll watch your steps here."

The witch shrugged. "Do as you like, for you will not have reason to watch long anyway." With those words she nonchalantly ditched him and followed Lenya to the side room on the right. Aww, too bad, Alistair thought, while following as well, I was hoping for a little more...accusation. Maybe even a holy smite or two. Bummer.

It seemed as if even the life's little pleasures had abandoned him now – much to his dismay.

Lenya came to halt before an elderly, grey-haired woman, who sat on a wooden stool, and peered down to her. "Are you the revered mother human here?" she asked, straightforwardly and harsh.

"Err, well, yes," the woman answered perplexed at first, before she stood up and cleared her throat. "That I am in fact. Greetings to you and your companions. Will you make a donation to the chantry? Our need has never been greater."

The Dalish woman straightened her posture, ready for confront. "Why? Does the chantry destroy the homeland of those who will not donate?"

Stupid, stupid move. Alistair suppressed the urge to slap his forehead in frustration. Regardless whether her hate was justified or not – acting so openly hostile rarely put you into a good position to negotiate something. Even he knew that, and he was as far from being a master of words as Lenya was from being in happy-sunshine mood.

The revered mother was speechless for a moment. "I will not discuss politics here in this holy place," she stated after a moment, voice firm.

Lenya took a sharp intake, ready to retort but got stopped by Alistair. He tried to ignore her angry stare as he raised his voice instead."I'm sorry, your Reverence. We are Grey Wardens and came here because we need your help."

"Grey Wardens? Here? You bring me into a difficult position." The revered mother heaved a sigh and deliberately looked only at Alistair, ignoring the mannerless elf completely. "Teyrn Loghain has declared all Grey Wardens as outlaws and murderer of our king. So there is not much I can do for you."

"We- we heard about that," Alistair went on, " and of course it is not true. However, we wanted to ask about the qunari..."

"The Qunari? Oh dear." Her eyes widened for the brink of a moment. "It would have been kinder to execute him, but I'm leaving his fate to the Maker..."

"His fate to the Maker?" Lenya interrupted, derogatory. "You rather mean to the Darkspawn, do you?"

The revered Mother shook her head in disapprove, a hint of anger visible in her face. "You know, that he butchered an entire farmhold, do you? The youngest children could scarcely escape, saying that his father found the qunari gravely wounded outside their farm. This kindness was repaid with murder. So don't tell me something about justice, young lady."

Lenya hesitated a longer moment before she answered, feeling uneasy. She cared not much for what the qunari had done to the humans actually, still a small part of her felt uncomfortable. "Despite all that, we need his help against the blight. He is a capable warrior."

"Then you and your companions could be one of his next victims."

A faint groan escaped her lips, feeling the anger rising again. "I justly killed a horde of darkspawn, bandits and an ogre. I think I... – we - ... can watch ourselves."

"Still I can't risk it to let him free. I'm sorry," the elder woman stated firmly and sat down again.

That pulled the trigger for Lenya, who had struggled to stay calm since she had stepped a foot into this hated place. The Dalish moved closer until she stood right before the revered mother, looming down at her. "Didn't I made myself clear? Hmm, I think I did. I said we need this key. We need help to fight against the blight. So I suggest you hand over the key, shem. Quickly. My patience has its limits..."

"Ohh, now we are threatening the leader of the chantry?" How fun," An amused cackle came from Morrigan in the background.

The revered Mother backed away, shocked. "If I'm not giving you the key freely, you would use violence? Has it come so far now?"

Alistair couldn't believe what was happening before his eyes here. How could she... He swallowed the furor that crept up within him down for the moment. "Absolutely not." He glared over to Lenya," I would never let this happen. Your Reverence...please we are on an important mission..." Alistair said, his whole posture pleading," entrust us with the qunari. I beg you."

The woman hesitated for a brief while, before she walked over to Alistair and gave him the key. "...Then take this key for this creature and begone. I don't want you to see here again. Teyrn Loghain was right with what he has said over the Grey Wardens after all." Her eyes wandered to Lenya and narrowed visibly. "May the Maker show you the illness of your acts."

Lenya shrugged before turning on her heels. "Keep your wishes, human. I couldn't care less. Especially for the god of yours." More important was for her now that she got what she wanted and that she could finally, finally leave this horrid place now.

With every step toward the door, she felt herself relaxing more again.

Breath, breath, Alistair. He was fuming, outraged. He wanted to shake her and scream at her. How could she do such a thing? He struggled with the intensity of those emotions wanting to burst out of him, but he scarcely kept them inside. This was neither the place nor the time for it, while being in the chantry still.

With every step toward the door, he felt himself getting angrier. Alistair had swallowed many cruel and stupid things she had done in the not-so distance past. The starving prisoner at Ostagar, the ridiculous nickname she has given him, dismissing a little, helpless child – Maker, even the gravely wounded soldier she had cold-blooded killed in the Korcari wilds – but that had been too much now.

He would confront her.

Chapter 15: Wonders Never Cease

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"Interesting solution, I might say," the witch smirked into Lenya's direction, as she stepped outside of the chantry. "So let's get our supplies, that Qunari and then..."

"HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?" Alistair burst out, full of rage. He couldn't contain the anger any longer, nor did he want to. The young Warden positioned himself in front of the elf and glowered down at her, his breathing ragged.

"What now?" Lenya sighed nerved and gleamed up to him, visibly unimpressed of his antic.

" 'What', she is asking. " His laugh was bitter and scornful. "How could you threaten to kill an old, unarmed woman in a holy place?...Or ...at all? A-are you really that ruthless? "Alistair's voice nearly flipped over.

"To kill?" Lenya blinked confused, yet stayed calm. "Whoever said I would? That shem just didn't want to let go of the key and I hadn't all day to discuss that out. Easy as that."

"But that doesn't mean you had to threaten her for it..."

"What do you want? It had worked, or had it not? We have the key, that is what counts. And remember it was you who said we need further help, so don't backfire this at me now, you shem idiot!" She snapped at him and the remaining rage seethed up in her again.

"No, what I backfire at you, is your absolute inane and irrational behavior towards defenseless people. Have you ever heard of common sense?"

Morrigan observed the back and forth arguing with exasperation and shook her head in disbelief. "My mother must have reeaaaally hate me to send me away with such imbecile creatures of Wardens."

"Listen human," Lenya glared at him, green eyes flashing with hatred and she straightened her posture, "...YOU made me leader. YOU shove the whole responsibility of the task to me, despite being the senior Warden. So YOU are in no position to complain about my actions now. "

Alistair gaped at her for a moment, bewildered. He took a deep breath to calm himself down again, yet his words came out harsh and vexed. " You may be the leader now, but you are not commanding me. So I don't have to shut up about everything you do. Huge difference here, you fail to understand. Or you don't want to understand."

" Fine, go on, whine about my decisions ... – if this makes you happy. I, in the meanwhile, will go and get the Qunari." Lenya shoved him roughly aside and stormed away, leaving an aghast Alistair behind.

Frustration welled up within him. Not only that she let him stood here like an utterly idiot, she also didn't get why he was so vexed about it. "You are so ….aaaaarhg." Alistair yelled after her retreating figure, kicking the dust with one of his boots.

"How very eloquent. So you both are done now, I take it?" Morrigan shot him a glance. "Because we have no better things to do, then to argue about to be humble to a withered chantry wench or not. No, of course not."

"You wouldn't understand," Alistair scoffed, still mad. " We can't effort to make us more enemies. We have already enough, as you probably know. Besides a Grey Warden is there to help people, not to scare them."

"Nor do I want to understand, thanks. But I'm sure that the darkspawn will be certainly very impressed, if we save every kitten from every tree we see. They will conceal in horror, in fact." Morrigan didn't comprehend what the problem was – except for Alistair in a whole, maybe. They got what they wanted and now they should make a beeline to set up camp somewhere outside Lothering. It had been too much time-wasting, too much needless discussions for her already – but the whiny chantry boy must have sprung at the elf's neck for insulting his beloved Revered Mother. Which only caused even more procrastination and discussion.

Annoying.

Alistair sighed, resignedly. "Why am I even talking to you? At all?" It wasn't really a surprise to him that the swamp witch would think alike, cold-blooded as she was. In fact, Alistair could rather talk to a tree and get more appreciation or compassion than from Morrigan. Ever.

"Don't ask me, for I do not know." Shrugging, Morrigan put gladly more space between herself and that oaf of a Warden, like Lenya had wisely done it already.

---

"I have the key to your cage." Lenya stood in front of the stoic giant and surveyed him. The sun towered already high in the sky, the gleaming light radiated onto the dark-toned skin of the man. She couldn't believe that they have already wasted so much time in this shem place, for it would be dark in a few hours. It was indeed time to grab their supplies and leave here to move on. To whatever place Lenya didn't know, nor wanted she to think about in the moment. Not before she had found a decent place to camp, bathe and sleep. The archdemon or stupid army gathering had to wait until then.

"Unexpected. I wouldn't have thought the revered mother would part of it." Sten's deep voice snapped her back to attention.

"Let's say I have convinced her to get rid of it." Lenya put the key in the fitting lock but before she turned it around, she hesitated for a moment and looked up. "Do you regret what you have done?"

Sten glanced at her. "If you know nothing of regret then you are either stupid or haven't really lived. Also, I wouldn't be in the cage otherwise."

She halted and averted her eyes briefly. I know more of regret than you would guess. A sharp intake of air followed before one side of her mouth curved slightly up. "Yes, I bet it is hard to imprison someone huge as you. Don't expect me to lead you to your atonement, though. Fighting darkspawn, that will be your purpose from now on."

"As well as yours, elf," Sten replied dryly.

"Comes along with being a Grey Warden, I suppose." Normally Lenya loathed it to be called an elf, – it was just so plain and deprecative – yet it seemed to belong to that Qunari's way of speaking. She felt as if was meant in a non-insulting way when hearing it from him – unlike when formed by those shem's. He was huge – a giant actually – but in all his oddity he seemed to be reasonable and less intimidating than his appearance was implying. More importantly, Sten would be useful; Lenya couldn't wait to see how the qunari warrior would kill off some darkspawn. Oddly enough, with turning the key in the lock, she felt as if her survival in this suicide of a mission went up – at least a bit.

"So be it. I'll follow you into the battle." Sten leisurely stepped out of the cage until he stood aside her. To everyone trespassing the scenery, this would have been a most unequal picture to witness. A small framed elf, covered in dried blood, in contrary of a massive and brawny Qunari, topping her height about two heads at least. The grim expression in both of their faces was the only thing they had in common.

As Sten continued to silently stare her down, Lenya decided not to care anymore and bowed down to pick two leafs of an elfroot plant instead. In all the hectic over the Qunari and the Revered Mother she had completely forgotten to treat her scratch, which was still faintly burning. She ground the leafs between her fingers and tend the wound with the green mashed remains of it. Not that it was a bad wound by any means, still she felt instant abatement by the treatment. Her knowledge about herbalism would come in handy during the travel, so much the Dalish was sure.

"Can we leave this place? I'm eager to be elsewhere." The Qunari eventually raised his voice after a long while of silence.

"Nothing more than that. I spend enough time in a disgusting human place like that," Lenya uttered as she glanced up. "I suppose we have to get you some kind of weapon first and – "

"So you managed to turn the key around in the lock after all. Makes me almost proud." The voice of the young witch interrupted her own, and she saw her approaching.

"Oh Morrigan, there you are. Where is the other one I have unfortunately to call my fellow Warden? I won't run around and search this whole shem place for him."

She gave the elf only an apathetically shrug. "Last time I checked, he was crying at the chantry's wall how bad life is treating him. I don't care either way."

"Umm, not really, but thanks for your concern. I guessed you would be here. Cage, Qunari and all that." Alistair's expression was sinister and he avoided to actually look at the Dalish woman. He was still too mad to give in and doubted his mood would change so soon again. Nonetheless he had to follow her now or else she would abandon him in a heartbeat. Ruthless enough for it was she, that she had already proven to be true. " I have enough of this place. Let's move on."

"That is the first smart thing I hear you saying today," Lenya glowered at him.

"Oh pleased to hear that, commander," Alistair hissed at her, and mock-bowed to her. "May I be of service otherwise?"

Morrigan, who was standing right between the two Wardens, groaned. "Oh and now I'm trapped between those two idiots again. Wonderful."

"Actually yes. Get the needed supplies. Take Sten with you. He need a sword or something else he can kill with."

Alistair looked up to the tall man and sighed inwardly. I must have asked right? Nothing more fun than to shop with a giant. A murderous giant. He narrowed his eyes as he took the money out of her hand, tone sharp."As you wish, my lady."

"Is that how you want to defeat the blight? With talking?" Sten scoffed, glancing down to Lenya.

"No I actually thought to use a huge army, many pointy things and blatant violence instead. Though this requires having a pointy thing, right Sten?"

"Parshaara. Then let us go to the merchant, human."

"Oh wow, now I have two companions who are unwilling to acknowledge my name. I feel so special." Alistair's mood dropped to what he would call 'Lenya- level', he felt just as grumpy as she always seemed to be. No, no thinking about that evil Dalish woman, he inwardly would only cause his mood to even a new low, anyway.

Sten peered down at him, unimpressed. "This would require to know your name, human. Less talking, more acting. Now move." Groaning, the Warden moved unwillingly into the known direction of the merchant near the chantry, with Sten in row.

Lenya was nearly amused by the comical sight of both men retreating. Whether it was the puppy dragging the Qunari along, or the opposite was quite hard to say. It looked more like the latter, anyhow. Yet another good reason she didn't regret to have gone through all the trouble to recruit the Qunari. She had a feeling that she would get along with him just fine, same she hoped to say in time for the young witch beside her. As for her fellow Warden – Lenya frowned – not so much.

"And what now? Waiting until the fool returns?"

"I guess so. You can also play hide and seek in the meanwhile, if you like," the elf snarled back, harsher than intended. As much Lenya appreciated Morrigan's presence, she was nerved that she broke the stillness with her gratuitous comment. Stillness, she direly needed and sought now, if only for a tiny amount of time. She rubbed a hand over her dirtied face, feeling the weariness resettle over her . "I'm tired. I just need a moment to breathe." And to suppress the thought of how amazingly great my life has become since I gulped down the so-called-cure.

Lenya was exhausted, but not stupid enough to give in to the illusion that they could immediately rest once they have left Lothering. With her experience of being one of the wandering folk, she knew that there could still pass hours until they'd have found a suitable and secure place enough to camp. Ironically, the meaning of being a wandering Dalish was now more true than ever. Guess the joke is on me, huh? Not to mention that upon leaving here, she had to play the good and strong leader for everyone else, which was a daunting thought itself. She plainly hadn't the slightest idea where to go next after Lothering. Curling up to a ball and to wait until all would be over was definitely not one of her preferred way of handling things, but right now it was an alluring option nonetheless.

Lenya gritted her teeth, as she arched her back and felt the strain within. Her armored hand found somehow the calming fur of the mabari and absentmindedly stroked it. Arai whined concerned as he cocked his head up and licked her hand. As if a spell has been broken, stubbornness kicked in again and superseded the prior feeling of despair within her. She bowed down to her hound, the faintest of smile grazing her expression. "Thank you, lethallin."

Morrigan had taken the time to survey her absentminded behavior since the elf had fallen silent, only to find her speaking to her flee-packed beast moments later. "You are an odd woman, really. Not half as odd as your dim-witted colleague...but odd notwithstanding."

Lenya blinked repeatedly and glanced at the witch, dumbfounded. Damn, she had completely forgotten that Morrigan was with her still. So she quickly corrected her lax posture and expression, hoping she hadn't recognized her prior mental moping. Right, strong and good leader, that is. Ugh.

She opened her mouth but didn't succeed in phrasing words, due to a very agitated and rushing Alistair with his weapon drawn and shield ready. "Darkspawn. Not afar from here." He hectically pointed to an undefined place behind the windmill and Lenya asked herself why by the creators she should even care. Sten however, seemed to share her apathy, for he was still a tiny dot in the distance, at least for a Qunari. As Lenya still not showed any sign of movement, Alistair decided to wait no longer and ran toward the appointed direction on his own.

"Oh, give me a freaking break," Lenya howled out, staring after him in bewilderment. She found his knight-in-a-not-so-shiny-armor-behavior borderline annoying, yet she couldn't let it happen that he fed himself off to the darkspawn in a twinge of heroism. At least not now. So against her better judgment, she motioned a reluctantly Morrigan to follow as she hurried after that idiot of a shem.

It has been a bit mindless...no unthinking of him to storm all the way back as if the Maker Himself would have chased him, but at the crude and yet familiar feeling of sensing darkspawn nearby, Alistair had no other choice. He couldn't abandon his fellow Warden – regardless of how much she drove him insane – with the knowledge that she couldn't sense them yet and probably wouldn't until it was too late. Alistair hated how appeased he was to see her perfectly fine, standing unmoved and unblinking in the very same spot where he had left that evil, evil woman. Instead there were other voices yelping for help, faint in the distance, but yet audible. For Alistair it was a matter of course that he wouldn't linger for another round of glaring-fest with Lenya, but to help first. Priorities he had learned to set and his fellow Warden ...obviously not – for she was not to follow him up to the bridge. Damn.

His grip around the hilt tightened, as he counted the darkspawn in his mind, the tainted blood within him singing with their presence. Oh how he resented that part, the remaining, eerily, incoherent bits of their communication buzzing in his head, which he was unable to mute down. Alistair reached the stone bridge, the tainted creatures likewise long aware of his presence stormed toward him with raw, murderous intent. A faint glimpse to above and he recognized two, little persons cowered in the corner, right before his shield crashed into his first opponent, snapping him back to focus. His roaming eyes counted three, four hurlocks, who were slowly circling him and he cursed his impulsive, stupid and downward suicidal behavior. At least until two known blades and the chill but welcomed feeling of magic joint the fight.

Hunting, focusing on and killing the prey, that were things Lenya had learned as soon she was able to walk. It was natural to her like breathing, her blades were like extended arms of her own – and yet they felt heavy as she ran it through the rotten flesh of a hurlock. It was a different sort of hunt, an unbalanced, dangerous act of hunting the prey and being one herself. One misstep or mistake and all would be over. In contrary to hunt an animal, a darkspawn wouldn't back away and seize its chance to kill. So she shook of her weariness as far as she could, and dodged a sword wielded with brutal force. Today she wouldn't be the prey, nor on any other day...but she would hunt mercilessly instead. Whatever it would take to survive the madness that was now her life. As if the Dalish wanted to emphasize her oath, she chopped the genlock's head off Alistair had pushed in her way.

Lenya loathed darkspawn, but she had quickly had learned to despise the Alpha Hurlocks in particular. Basically for their utter ugliness and smell, though most because of their toughness; for it would take longer to kill them. And this where she was exhausted already of all things. She glanced over to Alistair, who was attacking it first. Her fellow Warden seemed to have heroic, suicidal tendencies and to be an idiot in a whole, but she knew she could count on him when fighting. A small part of her even respected him for it, although the other, much bigger part wanted to strangle him when this would be over and won. Maybe she even would, though ugly alpha came first. Damn priorities.

The Alpha snarled as it got pushed back by Alistair's shield and tried to strike at the elf with his sword. The creature had easily more force than the woman but she acted quick-minded enough to dodge the attack and strike at lower level instead. The freeze of Morrigan's wintergrasp spell from behind ended the fight and the darkspawn's life unexpectedly abrupt.

Well maybe they are fast to kill at times. Hurray for magic, that is, shot through Lenya's mind as she tried to catch her breath and to appease her trembling knees. "Happy now?" she glowered up to her fellow Warden, who was equally breathless.

He avoided her gaze. "Well, sor-"

"Parshaara. Why did you ran off all the sudden, human?" A rather peeved Qunari interrupted his words, as he walked up the bridge, full-packed with all the supplies.

"Oh, I didn't want to be late for the little darkspawn party here, you know. Sorry that you'd missed it." Alistair breathed out in between and tried to look innocent. Last thing he now needed was a furious Qunari.

Sten's eyes roamed over the area, recognizing the darkspawn corpses on the ground. "Obviously."

"Well at least you have our supplies AND a sword, I see," Alistair tried to shift the subject and took a few steps forward to be away from the fuming presence that was Lenya.

"That merchant gave me those freely, without wanting any money. Odd."

"What a timely arrival, my friend. We are most obligated for your help." Two male dwarves approached closer, one older and bearded and the other one seemingly younger. Alistair recognized them, they were the little figures whose were cowering in the corner and most likely those crying for help before.

"Well at least one is," Morrigan snarled vexed and thwacked Alistair with her wooden staff on the head.

"Ouch," he howled out, looking confused and hurt at the witch.

"Next time you are off to play idiot hero, tis you I freeze."

"Next time I'll wear a helmet, that is," Alistair retorted, somewhat proud on his quick remark.

"And the point is?" Morrigan shrugged, apathetically. "There is nothing there that needs protection, anyway." Alistair sighed in resignation and pondered if it wouldn't be safer to get back to where Lenya stood – ... only that she wasn't there anymore. Huh?

"It is a dwarf," Lenya exclaimed and tilted her head in awe before the two men. "A DWARF, "she repeated, even more excited.

"Err...yes...apparently so," Alistair murmured, utterly bewildered from her sudden mood swing and delight.

"I've never seen a Durgen'len before..." Arai barked in solidary agreement, though more for the barking itself, then to the actual topic.

"Yes, wonders never cease, I take it. Can we move on?" Morrigan tapped impatiently with her foot.

"But we haven't thanked our rescuer yet," the reddish- haired, elder dwarf intervened." Let me introduce myself; I'm Bodahn Feddich and this is my son Sandal. Say hello, Sandal."

The younger dwarf stepped forward. "Hello."

"Might I asked where your journey leads you, and maybe offer a little reward for your most needed help?" Bodahn asked.

"No and yes. The reward, I mean. Rest is Grey Warden business," Lenya said curtly, all prior enthusiasm in her voice now gone.

Bodahn's eyes grew wider. "Grey Wardens? That would explain a lot. Now I fear your kind of excitement is too much for us to journey with you."

"Apparently, it is," Sten chipped in, deadpanned.

The dwarf stepped forward with a smile and thrust Lenya a few coins in the hand. To her delight it was more than just silver, it were two coins of sovereign and a silver to be exact.

She began to like him.

"Now let me say goodbye and all the best to you, my friend. Come on, Sandal we have a full packed cart of goods to get fixed." With those words Bodahn turned around, and started to gather the things his cart had lost before.

"See~ we earned money through it. So everything is fine, right. RIGHT?" Alistair said apologetic, although he didn't quite know, why he even should feel guilty for saving other people's life. Must be that 'only one with a conscious thing', he had already experienced earlier. Now only with the difference that there were three people without one glowering at him instead of two. Great. "Now let's move on and find a camp for the night, shall we?"

The grunt Sten made was the only respond he got, while the two women followed him in fuming silence. Lenya decided not to waste the rest of her energy with yelling at him, instead she entertained herself with the "strangle him, strangle him" chants in her mind, while staring angrily at his damn shem back.

Until they would find a place to camp, she feared it was going to be a long, long journey still. Ugh.

Chapter 16: A Crack In The Shell

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Night had fallen over the camp.

The sky was only merely alighted by the myriads of stars and the half-rounded moon. After wandering on for a couple of hours, they finally had found a suitable place enough to camp. It was a wide, even place, protected by surrounding, towering trees and even offered a fairly, deep lake at the side.

Alistair sit down on the ground and in front of the cackling, comforting fire in the middle, which had been quickly set up due to magic. At least one good thing about Morrigan. Another one was that she had set up her own little camp far, far away from the main center. Good riddance.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the air that smelled like smoke and dog, due to Arai who lay not afar from him, sleeping. Alistair was glad to be finally able to let his guard down for a bit, which was enormously easier after having eaten and bathed. He shivered as a driblet of water ran down his neck, a cold breeze grazing his skin added to this effect. So he approached closer to the warming, dancing flames. The bathe in the ice-cold water hasn't been a pleasure but a necessity; darkspawn blood was sticky and smelly after all. A faint smile hushed over his face, bathing like this reminded him on his days in the chantry where the brothers shooed the boys in the lake to bathe, even in the deepest winter. Now that are memories to be fond of, huh?

The camp was quiet, stillness had been traded in for the hectic of the day, making it easy for one's mind to trail off in a state of semi-awakeness. Still he fought the urge of sleep, not entirely trusting the treacherous tranquility. Alistair occupied himself with letting his eyes wander over the place, one eyebrow raised involuntarily as he watched Sten marching the boundaries of the camp up and down in dutiful vigil. If he must gave the Qunari one thing than that he was...spirited.

His eyes caught a small, dark spot in the distance that was Morrigan, and Alistair thought to himself that he could get used to see her only like that. It definitely had its appeal. He wasn't interested in what she was doing either, not at all. Alistair preferred not to speak with her if he hadn't to, and was asking himself why Lenya had been so persistent to bring Morrigan along...but so she has been with Sten.

Sturdy, evil woman.

His gaze fell through the flames, across the fireplace on the person in question. She lay curled up on the bare ground, sunken into deep oblivion of slumber and heedless of her surroundings. Her face was still dirtied of all the blood and dust, even her blades were still properly sheathed on her back. Upon finding this place to rest, Lenya hadn't bothered herself with setting the camp up, nor to eat something. Instead she almost immediately lay herself down near the fire and fell asleep. Alistair had never noticed throughout the day that she had been that exhausted, but on the other hand he didn't expect her to show this either way.

Haughty,

sturdy, evil woman.

Another deep intake of air followed and he felt his mind trailing off. His eyes became heavy in needed sleep, as suddenly a faint whimper reached his ears. His eyelids snapped back open, trying to relocate this sound as it happened again, now intensified in volume. It came from his fellow Warden, and as he looked closer he saw how her face contorted in distress, brows furrowed deeply before she thrashed around to the other side.

Dreams. Alistair frowned. And not the good ones.

He knew them too well.

---

Lenya was terrified. She wanted to wake up but couldn't, was completely imprisoned in her own mind and body.

Green, red lights, flashing, voices – can't breathe – roaring, singing monster in my head, a place of fire, it burns, the dragon – need to breathe – it wants to lure me. HELP...

And then she snapped back to reality with a sharp, yelping intake of air. Her body soared up, trying to shake the horror off with this movement, but her mind was still caught within the appalling pictures. She couldn't hinder the trembling that shook her whole being, her breathing came out in frantic intervals.

Need air.

"Lenya?" His head tilted as he scrutinized her, all prior dissension forgotten in concern for her.

No reaction.

"Lenya?" he tried again, louder now. Then she looked at him, though not really seeing him, eyelids blinking rashly in the need to snap out of this nightmare.

Alistair didn't know how to appease her, so he did the next best thing – talking. "Bad dreams, huh?"

She didn't answer and for the brink of the moment the camp was total still; the sizzling of the fire and her still ragged breathing the only apparent sound. Lenya swallowed hard and cast her eyes downward, away from staring dumbfounded at him. With every breath she took, her composure returned more.

One, two, three, she counted the breathing in her mind, feeling how it became more steady and even again. As the panic slowly abated, the Dalish woman became aware of what it was she had dreamt.

Darkspawn. A huge dragon; which looked like the archdemon. All in her head...talking to her. By the creators.

And this all because she had to become a Grey Warden. Would it be like this her whole life long from now on? Wouldn't she even have a break of those filthy darkspawn in her sleep? Was this what the Warden leader shem meant with being able to sense them? She didn't want it; none of it. Her hand balled to a fist, and the fear within shifted to frustration, then to anger. Raw and unchecked.

"Lenya?" Alistair pondered if he should stand up and...and... – he didn't know what to do, just something. She still hadn't spoken a single word, after all.

"I'm fine, leave me alone!" she screamed at him, so loud that it even made Sten stop his round and looked over before he went on again. For the brink of a second she gazed into the completely shocked face of her comrade, before she put herself onto her feet in one swift movement and stormed away. Arai heaved his head up as he noticed that his mistress was gone now, and sniffed the air to follow her scent.

"Ooookaaay. Have it your way," Alistair brought out, after having stomached the anew semblance of craziness of her. Why he was still always trying to help her eluded him. It's not that she was thankful in any way. He shook his head in disbelief, as he stared into the direction of the black darkness the elf had vanished into.

Still she looked so scared...No, stop thinking that, Alistair, he berated himself and stood up to catch something of the food he left over of his ration before.

Dinner makes everything better after all.

---

Lenya splashed water over her face.

Again and again, as if she wanted to wash the prior memories of the dream away with it. And the heat of anger. The algid water caused a shiver down her spine, her lips trembled due to the fierce chill on her skin. Yet she didn't stop her motion.

One time – splash – two times – splash – she repeated it until her face felt numb.

Then she sunk down to the ground, momentarily staring lethargical into the blackness of the night. A low whine snapped her back to attention and a cold nose wrangled its way beneath her hand. Surprised, she looked at her mabari. "Why are you always there, when I feel like this? How are you able to know it?" Arai tilted his head, looked at her and emphatically whined again. "You really are a friend, lethallin. Thank you," Lenya whispered in a tiny voice. The mabari woofed quietly and straightened himself to slurp with his warm tongue over her ice-cold cheek. The Dalish laughed out bitterly at the irony of this situation. She once had a clan and many people caring for her – Now they were all gone – ... Her one and only friend left was now a wardog.

It was better than none, though.

Friends, ...Tamlen. It was too painful to think about it, and at the same time too tempting. Mourning the life that she had lost, and hating what she had become instead... – but that would not be like her. She wasn't one who would sit and wait for someone to come and make all better. She had learned to fight herself, had to all her life.

... Fighting.

What had been a game or casual hunt before, has become now her life, a necessity. Lenya swallowed hard and long, trying to push this unwanted emotions back; they were a weakness, a distraction, someone could utilize against her. Something she couldn't allow to happen, if she wanted to survive this madness.

Survival...

This was her main purpose now. Forgetting about her old live and embracing the new one...in order to survive. The time to grieve would come, but not here and not now.

Until then, until then Tamlen...you have to wait.

One final breath, and she got up again, standing upright and steady on her feet, resoluteness etched in her expression. Nonetheless she was unsure what to do next. Should she simply return to the fireplace, where he would sit, eyes widened in question of her behavior? Granted, it had been a bit unfair to yell at him like that. He was an idiot, but a harmless one at the same time. Annoying at times.

Many times.

Just like she had expected humans to be.

Except for one, oddly enough. Her eyes tilted up to the distance, catching the tiny, lit spot across the camp. Why not? She doubted she would find any sleep now, anyway.

.

.

---

.

Morrigan sat down at the little fire she had prepared for herself, near her own tent and finished her meal.

Alone. Distant. Just how she wanted it to be.

Far, far away from the idiocy that had whirled around her all day, exasperated her. She was indeed asking herself why she had to travel with such a bunch of moron's of all things. Now after the short tantrum of the elf, it was at last quiet again and she enjoyed this tranquility, sought it. The witch quietly sighed, unsure herself if it was meaning annoyance or relief. Probably a mixture of both. She was glad that this imbecile of a Warden wasn't the one in charge, despite being the senior one. Or else they could have directly fed themselves to the archdemon due to his utter incompetence. Notwithstanding her relief about the rather good fact, the other Warden – the elf – has still not decided where to go next. Which only meant more, pointless procrastination.

Wonderful.

"Hello." Morrigan's head snapped up to the source of the voice, the Dalish woman suddenly up in front of her. She blinked, momentarily confused. Where did she come from all the sudden?

"Oh, tis you," she answered curtly after regaining her composure, not really interested. Despite showing her indifference openly to the elf, she still made no sign to leave again. The witch sighed anew. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be over there at the Warden's camp?

On the idiot side?

Lenya peered over her shoulder, shrugging. "Not interested. And puppy isn't there anyway."

"What a pity for you. Might have scared him away with your yelling. Good thing." Morrigan paused and glared up to her. "This won't work on me, though. So what is it you want?" Except to annoy me, that is.

"Nothing. You know, I just try to find some distraction from the wonderful darkspawn dream I had."

"And you can't the distraction elsewhere? Just for the case you haven't noticed, Warden. There is a reason why my camp is separated from the other camp."

She saw a slight smirk creeping up into Lenya's face. "Hmm, maybe if you'd built a fence around it and put it on fire, it would be even more obvious. Ask the durgen'len..." she pointed in the direction of the merchant, who they had met earlier on the road again "...I'm sure he could provide you with the needed supplies. He had full camping equipment for us, after all."

"Hmpf." Morrigan wondered why Lenya let it happen that those two dwarves were staying with them in camp.

Freeloader.

On the other hand it was somewhat beneficial to have a merchant nearby. A merchant, who had offered a fair discount on his rich range of goods in exchange for a sheltered place. Well... maybe she wasn't that dumb after all. "Okay you want to talk, then talk," Morrigan said rushy and harsh.

"I'm just curious. You seem...different to ...other humans." Lenya walked around the fire and squatted down. "Less annoying."

"Wow. How I feel flattered..."

Lenya tilted her head. "Have you always lived in the wilds? Never left it?"

She arched an eyebrow. "What kind of an odd question is that?"

"It's just hard to imagine – this place... -" she stopped and shuddered at the remembrance of the inhospitable Korcari wilds.

"This place was my home, you've justly insulted." Morrigan scoffed. "Did you ever leave your woods?"

The Dalish averted her gaze. "No, there was no need."

"See." Morrigan paused and pondered for a moment, whether to go on or not. Oddly enough the woman beside her waited patiently for her to continue. So she did. "Though, I left at times but always returned. 'twas my home after all and the world outside foreign and unwelcoming."

Lenya looked at her and she understood, yet remained silent.

Morrigan furrowed her brows. This elf was irritating. First she wanted to talk and now was not talking at all. Was Lenya hoping for a full good-night story for her amusement; to distract her from those nightmares? She had better things to do than to babysit a frightened elf, least to entertain her. Wasn't that the job of that idiot anyway?

A moment in silence passed, none of them said a word. Lenya stared into the hypnotic, yellow- red dancing core of the flames. "My clan heard stories about 'Flemeth'. We call her Ash'belannar, though. Other clan's are living in the wilds, so I heard." Her voice was tiny, nearly inaudible.

" Is that so?" Morrigan looked up. He heard her using this elvish name for her mother before. "And are those stories to scare little Dalish kids, who haven't been good?"

"That depends." A weak smile followed." Though I quite don't know if your mother is, what she appears to be."

"So who do you think she is then?" Morrigan asked, lightly amused.

"Someone who saved my life, I suppose." Lenya heaved a sigh. "But it seems as if those stories were true. That she is also someone with great power. Magic, I mean. The old one."

"Soo?" Inwardly, the young witch was perplexed of what the elf was able to grasp in such a short span of time, but didn't show it. "Does this frightening you?"

"Frightening?" Lenya laughed out. "I'm no coward like the shem's are. Magic was very common part within my clan. Even when I can't use it myself, I'm used to it. So no..." she paused,"...I find that rather ...fascinating." She felt stupid for admitting it, somehow, and pushed the unwanted memories associated with it back in the corner of her mind. More so, Lenya wondered why she was even telling her all this. She was a shem after all... but at the same time appeared so different from all the others.

Lenya liked that.

Morrigan observed baffled the blonde elf before her. She had expected everything but this answer. "I see." the witch said, as the pause stretched too long. "So you won't run away from me, screaming in panic? Aww, too bad. So I have to try harder to get rid of you, I take it." And here I thought she is just as idiotic as her fellow Warden. Maybe she is more than she appears to the eye first. The witch cocked an eyebrow. Interesting.

"Did this finally sate your curiosity? Or should I hold your hand now and wait until you are asleep again? If that is the case, I'll pass... but I'm sure the moron over there," she pointed at Alistair who now sat at the fireplace again, "... would be happy to oblige."

Lenya grimaced. "No thanks. I'm just wondering, Morrigan...why did you come with us?"

Morrigan groaned, annoyed. "More questions? Honestly, it's like being pestered by a child." She took a breath and let the air pass out as a long sigh. "Fine, fine have it your way, leader. What was it you asked? Why I did come with you? Tis dumb question. Beside that my mother threw me out?"

"Yes."

"You are a weird woman. Why are you asking me all this questions? Tis not enough that I just follow you?" Morrigan shook her head, irritated. Again a moment in silence passed and again this elf seemed to wait for another, more satisfying answer. "The wilds are my home and familiar to me, but I don't want to spent my whole life there, while growing old and wondering what is lying beyond their borders. I want to see it for myself." Her yellow eyes drifted away into the distance, resting unfixed in the darkness. "I want to see the mountains, instead only to hear of them. I want to walk through the water of the sea, instead only to imagine it. Yes, this is what I want. So, " Morrigan focused her gaze onto the Dalish again, "what is it what you want then, hmm?"

"To survive," shot out Lenya's mouth without thinking. Maybe seeing the mountains and the sea while doing so as well, she added in her mind, but kept it to herself.

Morrigan's lip quirked up to a smirk."Now that is indeed a sensible notion. Keep it."

Lenya's expression changed to a scowl, while she stood up and turned to leave. "I will. Believe me, I will. Good night, Morrigan." And without to wait for an answer, she disappeared into the darkness of the night again.

.

.

---

.

The intention was there, the equipment also – due to the dwarf merchant – and still Alistair couldn't find sleep. Well he had slept if he was honest, at least as long until the archdemon thought it would be a great idea to introduce itself to him.

Gee, I'm thrilled beyond words it found the time to stop by to say hello.

Alistair groaned annoyed and tried to get the vivid pictures of the newest blight party out of his head. Though if that dream was what Lenya had seen, then he could totally understand why she has been so freaked out and scared of it. After six months of being a Grey Warden he was mostly used to darkspawn dreams, but this one has been so intense, so terrifying – even for him. And she was new to all this, aside the pictures she had probably seen during the joining.

Welcome to the darkspawn sensing club, I would say.

He would explain her all this if she'd let him, but first he didn't want to get screamed at again and second was said person busy with the evil witch club meeting anyway. And I have lost my invitation card for it, aww.

Alistair heaved his head up, looked over to Morrigan's camp and saw them still talking. Oh great, now that is disaster in the making. He decided to no longer watch it happening, that it was happening was bad enough for his taste. Instead Alistair turned around to the fire again and rummaged in his pocket to bring a worn coin forth. His lucky charm.

.

~V~

.

Lenya took a deep breath of the night air, feeling suddenly not so gloomy anymore. She liked that little talk with the human witch, and was surprised that they had unexpectedly much in common. Despite her being a shem, Lenya was rather glad that she was traveling with them. Morrigan seemed like a sensible person after all, which couldn't be said of her fellow Warden however. The Dalish left the borders of the trees she was wandering in, to return to the main camp. From afar, Lenya saw him already sitting there; head down, all quiet and staring into the fire. She sighed and grew a bit annoyed.

Does he never sleeps?

Well but it all didn't help she needed to return at some point, and while it seemed that he would be up all night, Lenya didn't intent to do the same.

The closer she came, the more uneasy she felt. Strangely enough. He wasn't recognizing her, sunken in whatever thoughts occupied him. Maybe she had been too harsh before? Lenya quickly shook the thought off again, it's not that she was owning him something. "Hello?" she uttered half-questioningly, as he still not reacted.

This didn't miss its purpose however, for Alistair jumped frightened up. "Whaaah," he exclaimed and blinked confused into the out-of-nowhere appearing face of the elf. "Must you sneaking like that? You gave me a half heart-attack. Or rather a whole." Damn rogues, always that ...sneaky.

Lenya rolled her eyes and groaned. "And someone like you is keeping vigil? Much ineffective, I take it."

"No not actually. I suppose Sten would be peeved, if I would do his job. I just...just..." Alistair trailed off, and searched hectically on his lap. "Damn, I dropped it."

"What now?" She encountered nerved. "I ensure you, you still wear your pants... and thank the Creators for it."

"Yes, I know...I mean no. Argh, this is not what I meant. It's all your fault...you sneaky Dalish, you," Alistair pouted and started roaming the ground with his eyes.

Four months I had this coin, four months and it took one single evening with her  to lose it.

Lenya slowly started to ask herself what it was that he had lost, and let her eyes wander as well. She quickly spotted a little golden-gleaming, round object near the fireplace and picked it up. "What is this?" she questioned puzzled, as she observed it. A coin?

"Ahh, you have found it. Great," Alistair uttered relieved and reached his hand out to her. "Can I get it back? Please?"

Lenya scrutinized this little object a bit longer. It was a golden coin – but no sovereign– and had strange runic symbols engraved within. One side was already pretty worn and the runes almost not visible anymore. "Here, I don't want it."

Alistair snatched it out of her hand, glad to have it back again. "I wouldn't have given it to you anyway. It's mine."

"Why do you wear a coin with you, when you can't pay with it? That makes no sense."

Alistair sighed and cast his eyes down. "I- I had found it on a darkspawn corpse after my first fight against them...and have it ever since."

"So it's darkspawn money?" she retorted in a dry way and not really serious.

Alistair couldn't help but to grin. "Yeees exactly. You know, I kept it for the case the blight would happen and look-...marvel on my foresight. So if you ever see a darkspawn merchant now, give me a sign, so I can go shopping."

Lenya knew she would regret it, but decided to play along. Everything that would keep her from sleeping. " The range of goods must be...interesting."

"Indeed. As you have probably noticed already, they have a very special sense of room decoration. All those heads on a stick, that's gross...but then again they are ...dedicated, you must give them that." He smiled to her, but didn't elicit a reaction out of her. "Honestly, I don't know what this coin means, I just thought it was nice and kept it because of that," he added, more seriously. "I like those runes within, though, or runes and magic symbols in particular."

Maker, why am I still talking?

Despite himself he went on, too relieved about the distraction she offered to stop now. "I find them fascinating, in fact. Ironic isn't it? As an almost Templar I should despise those things. But what can I say? I was never the religious type."

Damn you idiot, stop talking NOW, you are boring her to death.

Much to his relief his mouth finally stopped popping words out.

"Uh-hu," was all she said to his stream of words. Right now Lenya pondered if darkspawn dreams wouldn't be the more sensible and less torturous option.

Alistair peered into her indifferent expression and sighed inwardly.

Task finished and done.

He didn't know why he always tried to speak with her again. She was obviously not interested in talks above 'Hello fellow Warden. Still alive? Wow, great. Try not to die. Bye' or similar sorts. Maybe it was his own need to speak with someone, and if he was honest – his options for this were very limited at the moment. He already had a conversation with the mabari last night and it wasn't truly enlightening, though comforting in a strange way. Which reminded him...

After consideration, the darkspawn had won in Lenya's account and so she turned to wander to her side of the camp. She had enough of his senseless and endless prattling.

"It was you who had sent Arai to me last night, right?"

Shot. Lenya stopped dead-track in her movements, yet didn't turn around. How did he know? And more importantly why by the elvhenan had she even done this?

The corner of Alistair's mouth quirked up. I take that as a yes. " You aren't such a bad person like you always want to appear, Lenya. If you are not too busy menacing old chantry women, that is."

She turned around. "Stop talking, as if you would know me, human."

For some reason he had expected her to say this. " I don't. I just wanted to say for whatever reasons you have done this; I'm grateful. I really am." Alistair paused, his expression saddened. "And I also know that I shouldn't have lost it, not where so much depends on us, with the blight and all that. I'm sorry." He looked up to her – really looked at her – and hoped she would believe him for once.

Lenya felt as if she'd stagger for a moment and swallowed hard, as she saw the mournfulness and ...sincerity?... in his eyes. Idiot or not...no one should have to be sorry for being somber about losing someone dear. It just seemed ...unfair. And just because she wasn't showing it someone, didn't mean she wasn't feeling the loss, although different sorts.

Tamlen...

Lenya hated it for making her so vulnerable – but she felt it; regardless of how much she didn't want it to be apparent. Or how many oaths she swore not to.

Damn him and his stupid puppy eyes.

"No need to apologize, Alistair," she eventually murmured quietly after a long while, the cackling fire in the background the only other sound.

Alistair suppressed the urge to blink on hearing his name from her lips. It was more common to him to be named either: puppy, human, shem, idiot...or what funny, denouncing words would come to her mind at that point.

"I – I know that you didn't know Duncan well and that you probably don't care," he swallowed," but he was a good man and like a father to me. This might sound stupid to you but a part of me – a huge part actually – feels like as if I have abandoned him."

Abandon... Lenya didn't answer, she simply couldn't. Breathing became hard enough alone. She focused on moving her body to sit down, for she feared her knees would give in, if she would stand any longer. Abandoning... this is what she had done with Tamlen.

Breathe. Need air.

Somehow she managed to keep her nonchalant expression upright. Lenya didn't know how.

The stillness stretched uncomfortably and Alistair felt his heart sinking.

And here I am once again, pouring my heart out and don't know even why. I'm such an idiot. May all the other idiots bow down to me.

"I-It doesn't sound stupid." The sound of her voice nearly startled him after all the silence.

"Although I would be dead then, I guess this wouldn't have made him happier."

"No, I suppose not," she answered, unsure herself if she meant the Warden shem or Tamlen with her words. The lines were suddenly and swiftly blurring.

He felt stupid for being bewildered about the fact that she was really listening to him, but couldn't help it. Having lost it all, still hurt... – so much – yet it was good having someone to speak now.

Someone without a cold nose, that is.

"You know when this is over and we are still alive then, I would like to give him a proper funeral. I don't know... maybe built a memorial in his name. Down in Highever, where he came from." Alistair looked up to her, noticing she had sat herself down on the ground in the meanwhile, her hands embraced her knees. She appeared so small to him then.

"The Dalish doesn't practice cremation, right? How do your people honor the dead?"

Lenya's head snapped up, eyes growing wide in utter surprise. "H-how...do..y-you know t-that?" Ugh, she hated that she was stuttering, but how could a human know about such things? His question hit her hard and unprepared.

Alistair almost laughed out at her too obvious bewilderment of him knowing something like that. Another good sight effect was that her reaction lightened his gloomy mood up again.

"Well living in the chantry gives you not many possibilities for leisure activities. Rather it's praying, ugh, studying or training. That's it. And whenever training was not possible and I wasn't scrubbing pots for doing something stupid, I was reading in the library. If you'd searched long and good enough, you even have found some books aside the pious, tiring, Chantry rambling. And believe me, I had enough time to search for them."

She had grown so quiet, that he couldn't help to check if she fell asleep already. Though then it was his turn to be surprised, because the Dalish woman still sat there, awake and listening. Maker...

"Anyway, in one of them I've found a journal entry where the Dalish elves were described, and I remember this part out of it. Alas the man who had written it, didn't have had the best opinion of your people and was way too pious. So of course this one useful piece of information was wrapped in words like..." Alistair lowered his voice to a darker tone for dramatic effect, " ...'evil- doer of the Maker' or another nice one was... 'wild uncivilized barbarians who are kidnapping people to eat them'. Charming."

Lenya couldn't believe it, but she was actually amused about his little antic. So playing along was a matter of course for her now.

"You know, we actually do this. The eating people part, I mean. After lunch we throw their bones on a pile and our smith makes then weapon out of them. Screw ironbark, the best bows are made out of shem-bones," she told him, deadpanned."And when this is done we all dance around the fire and celebrate our victory. Naked."

After the first shock about hearing her countering like that, he was grinning now, wide and wry. "Oh Maker, you have no idea what for pictures you have conjured in my mind, Lenya. Shame on you." How such a serious and sad topic could morph into something with dancing, naked elves he did not know. The Warden cleared his throat, trying to get more serious again. "However...you sadly haven't answer my question."

"This is because you are talking all the time, idiot." Alistair looked as if he wanted to protest but knew then better not to. "I wanted to say with that, that your way is not our way and likewise. You shem's will never understand us and this is exactly how we want it. That shem's are fearing us, I mean. Keeps them away."

"Oh, I see..." he murmured, bummed. "I respect th-"

Her long sigh interrupted him. "And because I know you will bother me endlessly with it otherwise, I will tell you. We bury the remains of our dead people and plant a sapling of a tree on their graves."

"That sounds quite beautiful." Alistair exclaimed in sincerely awe." That new life is springing from the death, I mean."

Lenya stared at him, baffled. She didn't know what to make out of his comment, never had expected to see him reacting in this way. Was he making fun of her and her people? It sounded way too excited for this serious topic. Then again, it didn't sound ironical or sarcastic in the slightest, however.

Irritating. Confusing. Or simply... humans.

"Thank you." Alistair smiled warmly." It was good to talk with someone about it, at least a bit. I really appreciate that you have listened to me."

She blinked, confounded of his reaction. "P-Please..."

His smile turned a wry one. "And for your little remark about naked dancing Dalish elves, but that's another story." He paused, feeling a blush creeping up to his face."...I ...oooh- that came out just soo wrong, did it?"

Lenya just threw him a look.

"Don't glare at me that way, please. I'm no drooling lecher or something. I – …" Alistair sighed. " think I'll go over there and shove my foot in my mouth."

The Dalish shrugged. "Have fun doing so then." Though she found his ability to make himself to a complete fool from one minute to the other quite fascinating and unique. So much she was giving him. It was even amusing at times.

"You are a cruel, cruel woman."

"Get used to it. Quickly." Lenya stood up to wander over to her place where Arai already was lying, but stopped halfway. " Those dreams," she grimaced, "are they now happen a lot?"

"Huh? You mean the stopping by of the archdemon and its many, maaaany friends?" Alistair exhaled. "It happens when it 'talks' to the horde. We feel it too."

"Now I feel special..."

"Yes, actually I was thinking about writing you a welcome to the 'you can sense darkspawn now'- club - greeting card...though since you are the only other member anyway, I thought it would be needless to do so. Sorry about that."

Lenya ignored his dumb comment and instead focused on her own annoyance."Wonderful. Not only in my blood but also in my head. I hate them."

Alistair briefly halted and nodded. "They aren't my best friends, either. By the way I had already the pleasure myself tonight while you were at your witch club meeting, and it wasn't delightful experience. At all. So dreaming about that for the first time ever must have been frightening, I understand. But with the time you will be able to block them out. I don't know how it is during a blight, though. I guess we have no other choice than to find out."

He didn't tell her that the dreams are mostly intensified during a blight, she was scared enough of it already.

"Gee, being a Grey Warden is fantastic. Really." The elf snatched a few fruits and bread to eat, before sitting down on her bedroll near the fireplace.

"And we even get to exclusively fight the blight." He shifted on his log back and forth, pondering if this would be a propitiate moment to ask."... which reminds me on getting added help. I still think we should get back to Lothering for that rogue..."

Quietness. Lenya chewed her bread, refusing to look at him while doing so. Alistair grew nervous, yet waited.

The last piece of bread has been swallowed and Lenya glowered at him. "Creators, why are you pestering me with her again? Do you need a shem girl for amusement so badly?"

His brain needed a moment to progress the words spoken to him. "A what? To do WHAT?" The blush crept up to his cheeks, hands waving wildly in protest. "No, no NOOO! Lenya, this isn't the reason."

Maker, who does she think I am?

"Whatever reason do you have otherwise to want her with us so badly? I don't like her. Beside this she is nuts." The fruits on her plate were more interesting to her than this conversation, so she grappled an apple and bit bored into it.

"Granted, she is a bit odd, or ...much. "Alistair grimaced. "Yet how could she know about us Grey Wardens so precisely? That is still seems weird to me."

The Dalish took another bit and chewed before answering; " Because she is weird. You don't believe this inane rambling or? Oh why am I even asking?" she sighed, exasperated. "You do."

"No, I'm not. Even the chantry says that visions of the Maker are mostly imagination and nothing more. I'm just still in the opinion that we need every help we can get...and she wanted to help us, after all." Alistair frowned. "And besides, soon this place will be darkspawn fodder...I just feel very, very uncomfortable to leave her there like that, after rejecting the help she had offered."

She shook her head. "And just because it would reassure your conscious, I should put up and take someone with us I don't like? Do you think I'm stupid?" Lenya stood up and ambled over to the pot with the stew Alistair had cooked earlier. She peeked into it, just to close the pot quickly with its lid again, disgusted. "What by the elvhenan is that? "

"Pea-stew?" Alistair replied in his most innocent tone.

"Uh-hu, sure." Sighing, the elven woman walked back to her place and unsheathed her blades. "You are not only annoying but also a terrible cook. Anyway, why by the creators should I even consider taking her with us? Last time I checked, I didn't believe in the things she had said, least in her god."

"I know and I respect that," he said and nodded curtly. "Part of my chantry education was to learn that the chantry and their belief in the Maker is superior to all other religions. How I hated it. Don't get me wrong, I do believe in the Maker and all that, but their tenets is not my way of seeing it. At all."

Lenya knitted her brows, not trusting her ears. " And what is it you believe in?"

"Everyone should be free to believe in what they want. I for myself are glad to be able to do something good as a Grey Warden, instead to sit in the chantry and to live after tenets I do not believe in myself."

She drew a breath in, taken aback of this unexpected answer. She had assumed every reaction but understanding of him. It was surprising. "Doing some good, huh? Figured. And maybe afterwards we should take each other on our hands and dance in circles?"

"I don't know," the Warden shrugged, amused, "this could really confuse the darkspawn, don't you think?" Alistair harrumphed. "Bottom line is that I do believe we shouldn't reject any kind of useful help in the time of the blight. We can't afford that where so much is at stake, nor to select the help after like and dislike. Otherwise I wouldn't travel with Morrigan, trust me."

"You really talk too much, you know that?" Lenya let out a long groan, as she lay herself down onto the bedroll near the fire. For a while she remained silent and considered the rather unwanted option back and forth. They needed help, true.

If that shem wasn't one, I could always feed her to the darkspawn later. Might be fun.

Also Lenya had the feeling that he would never shut up about her otherwise. Ever. Ugh. "I hope she can cook..."

"Oh, I hope so too," Alistair said, matter of factly."Then let's briefly head back to Lothering tomorrow. But we should try to find a bit rest first, despite those darkspawn dreams." He stood up to walk over to his tent.

"But I swear if she ever annoys me with the rambling of her shem god..." she muttered and turned around, head away from his sight.

"Then we cook her, throw her bones on a pile and dance around the fire." Alistair nonchalantly chipped in. "Though," he briefly stopped before entering his tent, "I'm not so sure about the naked part. I'm quite bashful, you know. Good night."

Lenya didn't answer anymore, but couldn't help to smile on that.

Chapter 17: Fluffy Evil Thing

 

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Funny how much one conversation can change things.

Alistair felt now at least little bit more comfortable around her. Lenya wasn't some crazy elf in his eyes anymore; she was now a crazy elf he could actually reason with.

If I just try hard enough and overlook her exasperated sighs and insults, that is.

Okay, granted it still wasn't the 'Two last Wardens-together-against-the Blight' companionship he was hoping to have with her upon leaving Flemeth's Hut, but their conversation that night had been a start.

Sort of.

The only problem was Lenya had reverted back to her grumpy and taciturn self in the days that followed. She hadn't talked to him after that, except for barking orders or insults.

Traveling with a human-hating Dalish woman is quite charming, Alistair sighed, while peering at her back. Yet on the other hand she'd allowed Leliana to join our group despite her prejudices.

This gave him some hope that Lenya wasn't the person she wanted others to believe she was; that there was more to her than what met the eye. His gaze drifted to the redhead that had fallen into step beside him, scrutinizing the latest member of their group. Leliana had gotten rid of her Chantry-robe even before having left Lothering, though he wasn't sure if it was of her own will or due to the glares Lenya had thrown at the robes. Alistair guessed it was the latter.

Leliana now wore a simple set of light leather armor and was armed with the bow Lenya had bought during their travels. She also had a dagger sheathed at her hip. Anyhow it was a much better and safer choice of clothing, especially when it came time to fight darkspawn; and although the woman looked so frail, he had no doubt that she could handle herself. The brawl in the tavern had already shown him that she was no ordinary Chantry sister.

"Something the matter, Alistair?" Damn, she had recognized his not so subtle observing.

"N-no, nothing," he rather awkwardly brought out and felt the tips of his ears glowing. "I-I just th-thought that w-we were l-lucky t-to still find you in the village after all." Smooth, Alistair, really smooth. What was it with him and turning into a stuttering idiot when talking to women?

Leliana lowered her pace and looked down. "Well, I suppose I should be grateful that at least one of the Grey Wardens thinks so..." Subconsciously her eyes wandered to Lenya, who silently walked in up in front of the group, together with Morrigan and her ever faithful mabari.

This slight shift in gaze was not lost on Alistair. "You mean..." he lowered his voice, afraid the person they were discussing might hear it," ...Lenya?" He was glad to have taken up the rear of the group again, to have put some distance between Lenya and himself now that he was talking about her. Sten, who was in front of him, surely didn't care about their idle talk. In fact, Alistair wasn't exactly sure what Sten would care about.

She didn't answer at first but nodded eventually. "I don't know how to describe it...exactly. It's just that I feel so unwanted among the group, as if I'm an intruder." She smiled weakly, unsure of her word choice.

"Oh, don't think that, Leliana," he tried to reassure her. "Len...she is..." Again he failed to find the right word to describe her. Complicated? That would be an understatement, really. "...not easy to get along with and isn't a woman of many words. Still you are here, are you not?"

"But she has been ignoring me completely since I've joined you. She doesn't even look at me."

"Lucky you, she's been mostly ignoring me for weeks," Alistair's grin faded as he noticed that his joke had quite the opposite effect. "What I wanted to say is, give her some time. Lenya doesn't have the best history with humans, but that might just be a stupid guess on my part."...It would explain her strong dislike of them however, he added in his mind. "She's not that bad of a person...at least, I think. She eventually gave you that bow after you mentioned that you were skilled with it, right? And she even bought the leather armor in Lothering for you." Frankly, he didn't know how convincing it sounded, if at all.

Leliana sighed, frustrated. "Admittedly, you have a point. Still why did she ask if I can cook then? Isn't it more important that I can fight?"

"Well..." Alistair started and didn't know how to continue. That is Lenya's practical and partly calculated way of thinking. He could hardly tell Leliana that Lenya's decision to let her join was based on his prior, so-called persuasion rather than on her existing cooking skills.

His chosen leader was indeed a cruel, cruel woman.

"But fine...I'll trust your words," the redhead chipped in and put him out of his misery. "You know our leader better than me, after all." Leliana shot Alistair a smile, though she was not entirely convinced herself.

Know her better... he shook his head and nearly laughed out loud at that. Lenya was the complete opposite of an open book and he knew next to nothing about her. His only saving grace was that in these few weeks traveling with her, he had been made aware of her moods and way of thinking…sort of. At the same time Alistair had to admit that Lenya never failed to surprise him, and most of the time it wasn't in a good way. Both companions fell silent afterwards, concentrating on the bumpy road before them again.

"Parshaara, this place looks like Lothering. What do we want here?" Sten exclaimed suddenly and pointed at the little village slowly ascending on the sunny horizon as they moved forward. They had been walking for hours now, ever since their fearless leader had decided it would be a good idea to search out the tiny dot on the map that was Honnleath.

Alistair cursed the day that they stumbled upon the merchant, who point-blankly thrust the control rod of a golem into the Dalish elf's hands. If Alistair had learned one thing it was that things given away freely always had a catch. Apparently this one was that the golem stood deactivated in a long forgotten village...full of darkspawn. He neither relished the idea of being in a place full of those tainted creatures, nor the thought of having a golem under Lenya's control. Bad, bad things could happen. That didn't stop Lenya from her plan to acquire it nonetheless, and unfortunately he knew that voicing his discomfort against such an idea would only motivate her further.

"Supposedly, we are searching for the golem that this control rod belongs to, Sten," Alistair felt compelled to answer, even after a bout of silence.

"You are pointing out the obvious," the Qunari grunted, displeased.

"I...am? So why ask the question, then?" Sten was a really confusing...person.

"I question the sense in searching for this village. Does it stop the Blight?"

The glowering stare of the giant man made Alistair nervous. "Err...no? Though, I suggest that you direct this concern to our leader, right up in front."

"Parshaara, you are a man, are you not?"

"Last time I looked, I was, yes." Alistair only grew more confused.

"And yet you let a woman lead. So it figures you can't be a man," Sten scoffed, without looking at him.

"Huh?" he unintelligibly uttered and blinked a few times. Apparently certain Dalish elves weren't the only ones to surprise him. Now even the Qunari puzzled him, who apparently had the world view of a chauvinist. Charming, really. Time to use my unchallenged wittiness and then... run and hide. Sten had the intimidating skills of an ogre, after all ...and the last ogre Alistair had met nearly crushed him. No need for a repeat, really.

"You are following her as well, so what does that make you?" Hah. Alistair bathed in the glory of his comment for a moment before remembering that the run and hide part would probably come sooner than expected, as Sten's face darkened...even further.

"I gave her my promise to do so, and a Qunari never breaks a promise," Sten explained, matter of factly. "Yet I promised to fight the Blight...not to go on senseless errands."

"This isn't an errand! We're going to be killing darkspawn and will collect another companion in the end...or sort of..." Alistair mumbled, somewhat glad he had chosen a more diplomatic response.

Sten scrutinized the Warden critically for a moment longer, before he turned around again. "We'll see."

Alistair sighed with relief. Good, no crushing today.

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---

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Lenya was pleased that she was able to find this shem-place, despite those rather ineffective and vague directions that the human merchant had given them.

Ever since Morrigan had explained to her what a golem was, the Dalish woman wanted this one for herself. Crushing a darkspawn head with it would be fun, not to mention it would be a powerful weapon against the Blight and would raise her chances of survival considerably. All were good and sensible reasons for her to search for the insignificant and minor village that Honnleath was.

They reached the gates...and something felt off.

It was all quiet; a kind of eerie stillness Lenya could only compare to the woods when the all animals had left, fled because of something...evil and frightening. The wind howled through the broken masonry of collapsed buildings that she saw far off, accompanied by the faint crackling of burning, flickering fire. Lenya lowered her pace, took a deep breath of the air and noted that it smelled of smoke and death. Her muscles tensed. This was no longer shem-place, it was now their place.

Darkspawn.

The merchant had mentioned that darkspawn would be here, but had conveniently forgotten that the place would be crawling with them. The Warden motioned with a wave of her hand for the group behind her to halt, as she suddenly felt incredibly...uneasy. She couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but it was as if her blood was boiling, as if something was inside of her, unwanted and intruding. It wasn't a voice, more so a distant, humming sound clawing the insides of her head...singing to her. It was unsettling. She closed her eyes and tried to get rid of it, yet instead it only intensified, causing her to breathe at a faster rate.

"You feel it, right?" It had been more of a statement than a question from Alistair.

She turned her head to him and nodded. "Yes. I feel...kinda funny." One side of her mouth tucked up to a faint smirk. "Probably shouldn't have eaten the meat-pasty last night. And the fruits. And the bread. And the rest of the cheeeeese."

"I meant sensing darksp... – " His eyes widened as her words sank in. "Wait, what?...you ate the CHEESE? All of it?" He knew how strong the hunger was and he was even okay with her eating so much, because otherwise the nagging sensation in her stomach would never dissipate...though why eat the cheese of all things? He was looking forward to eating some upon their return to the main camp. What a bummer. What a cruel, cruel leader she is.

Lenya only shrugged apathetically. "Seems we need to re-supply again then, I suppose." Damn hunger. After the darkspawn dreams, this was just another Grey Warden trait she had quickly learned to loathe throughout the past week.

"'Tis a lovely topic to discuss, I'm sure," Morrigan hissed and cast a lightening bolt in the direction of three approaching, snarling genlocks. She hit one directly which fell backward into the dust, and was pleased to observe how the spell's impact slowed the other two down. Just as she'd intended. "'Tis not as if we have more important things to do." Idiots.

Within mere moments Lenya had her weapons drawn and swung them forward into the guts of one approaching creature, which howled out in pain. "Stop growling," she hissed and kicked it backward to free her blades, "Start dying." She swirled around and beheaded the tumbling genlock. Her head snapped up and was happy to see that Sten had already taken care of the other one.

"Vashedan, I'd nearly forgotten how they smell..." Sten's face contorted into a disgusted expression for a moment, before he returned to his calm and stoic self. "Let's move on, Warden. There are more over there." His eyes wandered to the wide village square, but the Dalish didn't need to look in order to see them. She was, in fact, feeling them.

"I guess this unsettling buzzing in my head and veins is part of the Grey Warden deal, huh?" Lenya blew a strand of bloodied hair out of her face, while looking expectantly at her fellow Warden.

"Yes, exactly." Alistair nodded, momentarily relaxing from his fighting stance. "As I said before we have the ability to sense them, but conversely they can sense us. Unfortunately."

"Hmm...darkspawn in my head when I'm asleep, and now even when I'm awake. How...charming." Lenya cursed briefly under her breath, inaudible to all but Alistair.

"Yup," he nodded again,"...they tend to be an everlasting, nagging nuisance. Especially during the Blight."

Morrigan smirked and feigned contemplation. "There are soooo many comments I could make in response to that particular statement, I simply cannot decide which one to pick."

Lenya, however didn't hesitate. "Something you have in common with the darkspawn, eh puppy?"

"Good choice of words, elf. Those would have been mine, in fact," the witch cackled in an amused fashion.

Lenya smirked amusedly at Alistair's puzzled face and turned around again to delve further into the forsaken village. After all, it was time to focus on the purpose of their trip to Honnleath. 'Operation Locate Golem', that is. That and to kill every darkspawn in this village, if only to regain the silence in her head.

Either way, she'd be happy.

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---

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Silence.

What a wonderful, rare thing that had become since she became a Grey Warden. It didn't matter to her that the stillness had an eerie note, with the wind whistling through a once lively but now deserted village while she stood in a pool of darkspawn blood. Listening to the humming, hastened rhythm of her heartbeat and breath while the unsettling feeling in her head was gone was all the tranquility she needed. Unfortunately, life's little pleasures had a tendency to fade away all too soon.

"Well, the merchant wasn't lying when he said there would be darkspawn in Honnleath." Once again it was the ever-babbling human, whisking the welcomed calmness away with one of his needless comments.

Lenya bared her teeth, peering gleefully at all the darkspawn corpses scattered on the ground of the village square. All dead. ...Good.

At least the silence in her head was secured for now.

She lifted an armored hand and tried to wipe the blood from her face, but it didn't help much. Sighing, she sheathed her weapons again and walked toward the mysterious stone figure at the heart of the village. The Dalish tilted her head as she inched closer, her finger reaching out to touch the rough, grey stone of it. She could feel the texture through her leather gloves and continued to observe it curiously. The statue had its arms and head stretched toward the sky, and in some places there were strange, blue crystals embedded within the stone, some of them cracked.

"Tis our golem, I believe." Morrigan appeared behind her.

"So is it broken? Why is it standing here motionless like this?" Lenya kept poking the stone, as if she could find a button to press.

"Maybe if you poke it with a stick as well, it will help to reactive it," the witch mentioned caustically and groaned. "You do have the control rod, do you not?"

Lenya glanced over at Morrigan for a moment, somewhat unsure of herself, until she realised what the witch had meant. "Yes, of course."

"Then use it with the code word the merchant gave you to activate it again." She sighed. "Imbeciles. Must I do everything myself?"

"Not everyone can be as brilliant as you, witch," Sten threw in with a deadpanned expression, earning a chuckle from Alistair. The qunari turned to the man. "Why are you laughing, human?"

"Oh, don't mind me. I'm just enjoying the moment," the Warden grinned.

"And I could make the next moment very unpleasant for you," Morrigan growled at him and let a little ball of electricity sizzle in her hand.

"Moment passed." Alistair turned and strategically positioned himself behind the huge Qunari.

He could take her out with his templar abilities, though seeing as he could faintly sense more darkspawn nearby, it would have been a very stupid move. Bitch or not, Morrigan was powerful – and a useful companion in combat after all. Also Alistair wanted to preserve the moment where his holy smite would hit the witch while she was unprepared for a special occasion. It was something to look forward to, at least. Musing within those thoughts, he couldn't help but grin once more, which was fortunately covered by the giant back of the Qunari.

Lenya felt stupid waggling the weird stick in front of a lifeless statue. She almost felt like a mage, which she in fact wasn't. It reminded her of the fuss one of the elders in her cl – No, the Dalish shook her head, she refused to proceed with this thought any further. Focus...need to focus.

To focus on the task at hand would help her to forget and to leave behind not who she was, but what had been lost. After a deep breath, she spoke the code word loud and clear. "Dulef gar!" She shifted impatiently from one foot to the other while she waited for the golem to move and...

Nothing.

Lenya blinked confusedly, and the sudden silence made it obvious that she wasn't the only one surprised about the lack of outcome. "Dulef gar!" she tried again, now in a more angry voice. Still no reaction from the statue in front of her.

"Well, that was unexpected..."Alistair murmured, seeing the similarly puzzled faces of his companions as he peered around.

"Fantastic. Does this mean we have wasted half the day walking to a damn, stinking hole like this for nothing?" Morrigan began to fume and cursed under her breath.

"I'm going to kill that shem!" Irately, Lenya tossed the control rod into the grass beside the statue. Arai was quick enough to escape the unintended assault from his mistress. "I swear...I'm going to kill that merchant for lying to me!"

"Bloodthirstiness is such a charming feature, do you know that?" Damn, his mouth was quicker than his brain again. Alistair knew he was going to regret it with the elf's current mood. "I mean – " he trailed off, his head turned to a cellar door nearby, and felt his hackles raising. "Warden senses tingling. Do you feel it too?"

"What...-" Lenya was about to holler, when she suddenly stilled and recognized the change in the air. The unsettling feeling was back, only faintly but it was there.

Bye, bye silence...hello darkspawn, she thought grimly before readying her weapons. "So there are more behind the door, I take it?"

"Hmm, I wouldn't say that, they seem more...distant." He carefully went over to the door, "It looks like a cellar to me, though. So I guess the darkspawn are down there, to be exact."

Leliana raised her voice after a long while. "Maybe we will find a villager or other survivors down there who can tell us why the golem isn't working."

"Survivors? In a room full of darkspawn?" Morrigan scoffed in a derisive tone, clearly dismissing her and the idea as insane. "'Tis not as though they would be killed. In fact, they are more than likely having a happy tea party together in the cellar, is that what you're thinking, you Chantry twit?" The witch glared at the red-head, who turned her gaze from her quickly, saying nothing in return.

"While unlikely, it would certainly be interesting," Alistair murmured more to himself.

"You all talk too much." Sten didn't understand the reason behind standing there while there were still darkspawn to kill. It was a simple cause for him; going down into the cellar and killing them. Not talking about how to do it. Humans... The Qunari walked toward the door to open it, and went through it first.

"Since when is the giant the boss here, hmm?" Morrigan shook her head and looked over to Lenya who just shrugged in return. She wanted to go down there anyway, if only to vent her anger on the darkspawn. Maybe the crazy red-headed shem was right for once and they would find further info on the golem in the weird building of stone.

Not that she counted on it.

.

.

---

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"Sten, kill it! Don't let it finish its spell!" the Dalish screamed after the Qunari who immediately started rushing toward said creature, grunting. The sickening sound of crushing bones made it apparent that the Qunari had succeeded in his task.

Lenya hated this place. It was dark, dusty and smelled musty. She had no time to wonder why the shemlen thought it would be a good idea to construct such a building, however. She was simply too busy surviving the attacks of the two snarling Hurlocks surrounding her. She had parried and dodged their attacks until now but they had more strength by far, which made it harder to parry the simultaneous blows without being pushed down by their force. She dodged another attack and was ready to launch a quick counterattack, as the target was suddenly pushed aside by the impact of a wooden shield.

"Need help?" Alistair grinned to her and gutted the hurlock before it could recover.

"No thanks," she huffed and turned behind the other hurlock to back-stab it. Finally the tainted bastard fell dead to the ground. "I can handle myself." Her head snapped up as she heard the all too familiar sound of a strained bow. She saw a genlock archer on a platform aiming at her, and she would not reach it in time. Shit...

Quicker than the creature could release the string, it was hit by a whizzing arrow and fell over the banister to the ground. Baffled, Lenya turned around, soon realizing it had been Leliana's arrow that had saved her. The woman nodded curtly to the elf, and Lenya returned the gesture. Leliana was one crazy shem, but she could handle the bow, that much was for sure.

"Now that's teamwork," Alistair exhaled deeply, releasing all the tension that had been clustered within him.

"Excuse me if I'm not about to jump for joy," Morrigan muttered and let the ball of energy die down in her hand. She had been ready to throw it at the darkspawn archer but the cloistered sister had been faster than her; either way, the Grey Warden lived and that was all that mattered.

Lenya froze, eyes closed, relishing the victory and stillness simultaneously. Since her life was constantly on the verge of death, she enjoyed the quiet moments when she could. They were dead and she lived on. Survival. She had survived them. Still it would be a constant struggle and fight from now on to achieve this goal in the end.

I have to grow stronger...

"We are saved!" Her pointed ears twitched at the unwelcome noise. Her eyes grudgingly opened again and flashed toward the strange glowing magical wall. Several shems were standing behind it, alive and unhurt. She hadn't regarded them while she fought but now she was drawing nearer to them. Maybe they would tell her what was wrong with the golem outside – if not she would make them do so.

"Oh, thank the Maker. Survivors," Leliana blurted out, seemingly pleased at having saved at least a few lives. She followed the Dalish over to the humans, yet held a respectful distance from her.

Lenya turned to Morrigan. "Undo it."

"What?"

"The wall is magical, undo it."

Morrigan didn't answer.

"You... – can't?" Lenya's eyes bore into hers, disbelieving.

"Why should I even bother with something like that?" Morrigan huffed, trying to cover her insecurity.

"With that," the blond man behind the wall spoke up, "I can help." Not a moment later, the wall wavered one or two times and weakened both in color and thickness. Several humans exclaimed in joy as they ran away and toward the cellar's entrance and freedom. The blond man however remained in his place. "I assume you weren't sent by the Bann to save us?"

Lenya folded her arms. "No, but I need answers. What is wrong with the statue outside? Why isn't it working?"

The man blinked a few times. "The statu- you mean Shale? That's what you came for? ...well I suppose I should be thankful that you came at all. My name is Matthias and I thank you for the rescue."

"I didn't come for you," she stated calmly. "I couldn't care less if you or the villagers are alive. All I want is the golem."

Silence. The man didn't speak for several moments. "I-I see," he gulped, feeling intimidated by the way this elven woman was staring at him. "Actually it has been deactivated since it killed my father...and I say good riddance." Matthias' eyes gleamed with defiance.

"Killed him?" Alistair exclaimed from behind Lenya. "Now that is reassuring, isn't it?" He half said to Lenya and half said to himself. He now regretted that he had given in to her idea.

"My father was Wilhelm, mage to the arl of Redcliffe and hero in the war against Orlais... and what did he get?"

"Interesting," the elf muttered flatly, not really caring about the story. "So how do I activate it again?"

"You need the control rod and the code word, it's that simple." Matthias halted, thinking. "Or did my mother give them the wrong code word? It's possible considering how much my mother wanted to ensure that Shale was never activated again. After all she found my father crushed, all of his bones broke –"

"So the word was wrong, I take it?" Lenya cut him off, impatiently tapping her foot. "You know the right one, shem?"

"Yes. But you must do something for me first. I-I know that you have saved me and I'm thankful...but my little girl she ran down into the laboratory before I could stop her. She was so scared."

Her eyes darted to the door and back to the man. "You must think I'm stupid, right?" she said in a sardonic tone. "Why should I even bother looking for your daughter while you are here, obviously not caring enough to do so yourself?" The tapping of her foot increased in volume and speed, fingers digging deep into the folds of her arms.

Alistair watched her, growing suspicious in the slight change of her body language. She wouldn't, right?

"I would...but one man that went after her got killed by my father's magical defenses, I don't know how she could pass it." Matthias looked at her pleadingly. "Please you have come so far, it would only be a bit further. This shouldn't a problem for one who has slain so many darkspawn on the way here. "

Tap, tap tap. Lenya did not answer, only continued to glare at him.

"I just want to know if she is alive, I can't leave without her. Then I'll give you the correct code word for Shale," he tried again, growing more unsure.

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap. It went on for a while before she stopped. Silence ensued for the slightest of moments without her tapping, eyes still fixed on the blond man's form. Suddenly she darted forward, gripping the surprised human by his collar, pushing him to the wall. "Are you blackmailing me, shem? How about you tell it to me NOW?" She hissed, pressing him further on the rough stone wall.

Alistair slapped his forehead, sighing. He hated to be right. She would...of course she would.

Matthias winced and gasped for air, yet the expression of determination unchanged in his face. "No! I do not care what you do to me; I won't tell you the proper word until you have found my girl! Amalia, Amalia!" he screamed into the direction of the door.

"Lenya!" Alistair exclaimed as she brought the dagger forth and pressed it to the man's throat. He took another step toward her. Silly, impatient woman. "Come on, let's just look for that little girl, it can't be that hard..."

"Except for magical defenses killing us, that is..." Morrigan groused.

"I love your everlasting optimism, Morrigan, really…" Alistair snarled back, monitoring every little move Lenya made, who had still not spoken or yielded.

"Killing this man would be unwise," Sten interjected briefly, his eyes lingering disapprovingly on the elf.

Lenya looked at the shem in her grasp. He was sweating and gasping but he didn't give up – despite the dagger pointed at him.

It was unnerving.

And killing him would only bring her back to square one with no correct code word and hence no golem at all. Ugh. After another moment of contemplation, the Dalish slowly loosened her grip on him and inched backward. "I will look for her," she pressed forth through gritted teeth. "You better keep your promise, otherwise..."

"I will, I will," Matthias replied, feeling relieved but was wise enough not to show it openly. He didn't want to anger her more, or he would eventually lose in this game with fire.

"So what is this…what did the shem call it? A 'laboratory'?" she murmured more to herself and opened the door. She nearly gagged as she took in a breath of the air that flowed into her direction. It was beyond musty...it smelled rotting, in fact.

"This was the right decision, Lenya," Alistair said, his tone calm, and went after her.

"Shut up," she hissed grumpily and without turning around followed the path deeper into the laboratory.

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---

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"What was that?" Lenya stared in shock at the empty space on the ground, where only seconds before had been a dark, monstrous creature.

She tried to catch her breath, her hands still clutched tightly around the pommels of her two blades. Inside she still felt the horror and chill of her fight against an otherworldly ...thing.

"'Twas was a shade, a demonic creature that can affect the world around it," Morrigan explained, composed. "Though as we have seen they can be killed with weapons and magic – so to speak – so they have to withdraw from whence they came from."

"So they... can eventually return?" Lenya breathed and regretted it immediately. The farther they went into this dusty and dim-lit laboratory, the worse the air became.

"That I can't say for sure. What I can say is defeating them is obviously a way to get rid of their threat. If you are able to resist their assault on your mind, that is."

"Well, it's enough for me that the darkspawn are assaulting my mind, so no need for another ugly creature to do that." The elf shrugged. "I suppose I'll just kill every shade I see. If I see another demon, I'll kill it too."

"A sensible plan." Sten nodded in agreement.

"Just how far does this building go down?" Alistair pondered as he sheathed his sword once again. Somehow he felt he'd be needing again entirely too soon. He kept his hand gripped upon the hilt.

This place gave him the creeps.

"I hope we will find the girl, she must be so scared. This place...it does not feel right." Leliana's eyes wandered from one point to another, always fearful that more creatures could appear.

"There are more things in this world than your eye can see, Chantry sister. And by that I surely do not mean your so-called Maker," Morrigan scoffed.

Lenya silently agreed, and shuddered as her hackles were raised again. The last time she had such a twisted and ghastly feeling was in the elven rui... – she willed this thought out of her mind, shaking her head. Such thoughts were the last thing she needed now. They needed to find the brat - and quickly. She didn't plan to linger here longer than necessary.

"Let's keep moving."

They went further and fought against more of those demons, until they finally reached what seemed to be the final destination of their search. A square room, dusty and dimly lit like the others before, but a young girl's voice could be heard nearby. Finally... Lenya quickened her pace to reach the shem girl that had caused them so much trouble. Anger rose within her. She would drag her out on her sleeves, if needed. But then the Dalish saw the company that the girl kept and jumped right back behind a very baffled Alistair.

"Whaa?" He was completely bewildered by her reaction.

Beside the girl, who was well, and rather amused, sat a striped cat. "See Kitty, we have company. Did you come to play? Kitty likes to play..." she giggled.

"NO!" Lenya nearly screamed, still hiding behind Alistair, which earned her another odd look from her fellow Warden.

"Uuum..."

"Kill it. Now!" She pointed at the cat and shoved him forward, not without having him protest of course.

"Hey! What is your problem, Lenya? It's just a cat."

"No," the elf waved about with her arms, "it's a fluffy... evil thing... Kill it!"

"So you didn't come to play? You are boring. Then I will continue to play with Kitty instead. She is my friend." The girl told Alistair, who was standing up front due to Lenya's hiding behind him.

"That's ..uhh.. nice. Your father is missing you, though. So let's head back, Amalia." Alistair turned around to Lenya. "Is there a purpose for your hiding by the way?" A grin found its way to his face. "You aren't afraid of that little cat…are you?" The thought of Lenya being terrified of the furball amused him to no end. The Dalish however didn't respond and just glared at him. "Come on, it's just a CAT!"

Suddenly the cat opened her eyes which were eerily glowing purple and …spoke. "Nothing you say or do will convince Amalia to come with you. She is mine now."

"Or...not..." he added in a perplexed voice while staring at the creature, who was calmly licking her paws. Behind him, Arai started to growl menacingly.

"I-it's not a cat," Lenya exclaimed and to everyone's surprise she sounded way too relieved. "It's not a cat." she repeated. Alistair arched an eyebrow at her as she straightened her posture and came forward again.

"I will take her back to her shem father. I will not leave without the brat," she said, tone assertive.

"Oh? Is that so?" The creature replied amused. "Then let me suggest a trade, mortal. I have been captured here for many, many years. Release me. Then we can all return to her father."

"How so?"

"The magical mechanics behind me keep me from leaving. I cannot touch it. You must do it, mortal. Solve the puzzle that keeps me captured down here."

"Kitty will be free." Amalia bounced up and down with joy.

Sten didn't approve. First there was the strange behaviour Lenya had displayed, which was unsuitable for a leader, and now this. "Parshaara, surely you won't make a deal with a demon, elf?"

Lenya's eyes darted back and forth between the 'cat' and the ridiculous large stone puzzle behind it. A line of fire bubbled at its beginning and from what she could discern, should reach the other side of the many stone plates to break the magical barrier. Truth be told, she had never been good at solving puzzles, nor did she have the patience for it. On the other hand they needed the girl... Damn.

After a while of brief contemplation, the Dalish decided for a more sensible direction. "You know cat-demon," the elf shuddered at the word 'cat', "I think I should just take the girl and leave." She darted forward to snatch the girl by the arm, but an invisible force threw her back at her attempt, causing her to fall flat on her back.

"YOU WILL NOT TAKE HER!" The demon's voice shattered through the room. "SHE IS MINE!"

Before Alistair could even rush to her side, Lenya was shrugging the pain of the blow off and got up again. She lunged forward to reach the girl but it was already too late. In the blink of an eye the whole room was shrouded in a blazing white, flashing light, blinding her eyes completely for a small moment. Amalia's scream rang throughout the room and reached Lenya's ears as she blinked and tried to regain her vision.

Then her screams suddenly subsided into silence, and with it the girl was also gone. She had melted within the true form of the demon, swallowed whole as if she had never existed. The creature ascended slowly from the ground, morphed into a larger form, while the light dissipated, making its true appearance visible for Lenya and her companions.

"'Tis a desire demon, of all things. Wonderful." Morrigan groaned as she held her staff ready. She had already suspected as much, yet had hoped for once that she wasn't right.

"That's a ...demon?" Even Alistair knew the question was stupid of him to ask, but weren't demons normally supposed to be ugly, twisted creatures? This demon was rather...attractive in its nearly half-naked, very female form. Minus horns, purple skin and flaming hair, that is. Okay, he lifted his sword ...definitely a demon. He managed one last side glance over to his fellow Warden before chaos erupted.

The earth shook and several undead creatures appeared from out of nowhere, lunging toward the elf all at once. Lenya turned as she drew her blades and suddenly froze as she gazed into the ghastly, hollow face of one undead creature. She had seen them before...in the elven ruin. Where she had fought against them with Tamlen; where they found the mirror. Where she had lost it all.

Lost him.

Her mind screamed, ordered her to move but her body didn't obey. Alistair watched in horror as the monsters sluggishly moved in her direction and encircled her, while she continued to stand there like a willing sacrifice waiting to be slaughtered. "Lenya!" he yelled while dodging another attack, "snap out of it!" Damn, he gritted his teeth, I have to reach her.

This noble intention was hindered by the desire demon which kept Alistair, Morrigan and Sten busy. Morrigan conjured an ice spell at the demon but it seemed to have no effect. Cursing under her breath, the sorceress tried another of her elemental spells, grudgingly knowing it would take a few seconds to summon it. Arai sprinted to his mistress' side, growling and snarling as he leaped upon one creature, tearing foul flesh and bones apart. Finally the elf snapped out of her horrified daze. She rapidly shook her head to get rid of her light headedness and kicked the nearest opponent to buy herself a bit of space, yet was still surrounded by four of them.

Leliana's arrow sluiced through the air and scarcely missed its target, but Alistair used the second of distraction the arrow brought to break free from the demon to help his surrounded fellow Warden. Lenya dodged a swirling blade, but couldn't dodge the sharp claw of another undead creature as it scratched the flesh around the unprotected area of her abdomen. Blinded by the pain for a few seconds, she tumbled back and was oblivious to the looming danger behind her.

One monster came dangerously close, ready to sink its rusty dagger and claws deep into her back.

Chapter 18: Twinge Of Heroism

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His mind screamed.

I have to reach her. Get her away.

Alistair was unwilling to accept the events that were unfolding before his eyes. Unwilling to believe that there was a weapon pointed at her back, and how closely the creature was to lunging at her.

So he ran to her.

Fractions of seconds seemed like hours, the small distance between the Wardens felt like an endless chasm. Eventually he reached her and simply shoved her out of the way, the action unthinking and driven by impulse. Lenya landed roughly on the grimy floor with a loud thud, her blades clattered at her sides. The air whooshed out of her lungs due to the force of her fall. She was temporarily stunned and could only watch as Alistair was surrounded by undead creatures, fighting for his life. I have to get up again. Quickly.

Unable to get his shield up in time, the creature's dagger pierced through his splintmail and into the flesh of his left shoulder. Sharp, long claws threatened to lash out at the ex-templar, but the undead monster was suddenly pinned down by the muscular mass of Lenya's mabari. The war hound tore at the creature's throat with an angry growl. Alistair let out a grunt of pain and stumbled backward, the dagger still half-sunken into his flesh. Having lost the use of his left arm, his shield clunked down to the ground. He still managed to sink his sword into the nearest creature, though he felt awkward without his shield as backup. Gritting his teeth, Alistair yanked the rusty dagger out of his shoulder and felt his blood seep from the gaping wound. It trickled down his side, though he ignored it and the pain emanating from his shoulder. He groaned and turned to where he'd remembered seeing the last creature standing. He raised his sword to bring it down upon the monster. His sword met steel and his blow was deflected by two blades which had been hastily brought up in defence. He stared into the shocked, green eyes of his fellow Grey Warden, who had already taken down the last undead creature.

"I'm no demon, you id-!" Lenya halted mid-sentence as she noticed the severe bleeding from his shoulder. She lowered her weapons and stepped closer to him. Did he have a death wish, jumping in front of every sword and dagger he saw? But he had done it for her, had taken the blow that was destined to hit her. Why? For a moment she forgot their grim surroundings and shook her head with bewilderment as she scrutinized him. His breaths were ragged, and sweat was running down his forehead. He clutched at his injury with his good hand in a feeble attempt to staunch the flow of blood. Satisfied that the creatures around them were dead, Alistair fell onto his knees, exhausted.

Despite the situation as a whole, he smirked. Now if only the bleeding would stop, then the day would be a complete success.

An inhuman scream and the sickening crunch of bones snapped the Dalish back to reality. Apparently the fight wasn't over yet. She sprinted over to aid Sten and Morrigan, ignoring the fierce burning sensation at her side. Thunder flashed through the room as Morrigan volleyed another orb in the demon's direction. She was pleased to see the creature convulse as the spell hit it. Lenya was about to charge into the fray, but Sten's mighty swing with his massive sword made her interference unnecessary.

"Parshaara, die Demon!" he hollered before running his blade through the desire demon's abdomen. Roaring with anger, the Beresaad soldier pulled his two-handed blade free, and the demon's lifeless form sank to the ground.

It was over. Finally.

A calm had settled over the room, only to be disrupted by everyone's ragged breathing and a sudden groan from Leliana, who had just snapped out of a nightmare spell the demon had cast upon her. "Maker, my head..." the woman walked over to the rest of the group, still a bit dazed.

Morrigan rested her weight on her staff, completely drained. Yet she was not tired enough to spare the elf a nasty glare. "Remind me to hit you the next time you want to go down into a magical laboratory. We don't even have the girl. Imbecile."

"That is NOT my fault," the elf glowered at the witch. "You didn't actually expect me to let a demon run free, did you?"

"You made the right choice, Warden. Demons are dangerous and must be killed." Sten gazed disapprovingly at the witch, "though I would not expect you to understand."

"Nor would I," Morrigan scoffed back.

"Ouuuuch," came a plaintive moan from the other corner of the room. Lenya suddenly remembered her fellow Warden, whom she had left behind. Lenya was about to walk over to him when Leliana rushed by her. Alistair was still cowering on the ground with his hand pressed against his wound. He was surrounded by the foul-smelling bodies of dead skeletons.

"You are hurt, Alistair!" Leliana shrieked. She knelt in and observed his injury closely. "We should tend the wound before we move on."

"Stating the obvious, I see?" The elven woman stood beside her two comrades and glared down at the human woman. The shemlen bard's mere presence was enough to tick her off for some reason. In order to distract herself, she began tapping the floor with her foot, much like she had earlier.

Leliana looked up at her and noticed the mild wound around her abdomen. "You are hurt too, Lenya!"

"Just a scratch," she shrugged her off. Without paying Leliana any further attention, the Dalish turned to Morrigan. "Do you still have the poultice?"

"I do." The sorceress sighed. "How did the idiot even manage to get this badly hurt? Actually, forget it. I really don't want to know."

Alistair's gaze subconsciously wandered to the elf, but she ignored him.

Morrigan fetched the bandage out of her little bag and grudgingly threw it into Alistair's direction. "Tis a waste of a good poultice..."

Grimacing, he stood up again. His splintmail armor was partly tattered and stained by an odd mixture of darkspawn blood as well as his own. He sighed. "Great. I really liked this armor..."

"That should be the least of your concerns right now, Alistair," Leliana murmured. She treated his shoulder with the poultice. "This will stop the bleeding, but once we are back in camp you need a proper bandage."

"Understood. I'm just glad to be alive. Remind me to add undead and demons to the list of things I dislike." He looked over to Lenya. "Are you alright?"

"I am." She nodded curtly and then blatantly turned away from him, causing him to frown. He hadn't expected her to rejoice over his stupid twinge of heroism, but a little thank you would have been nice. Maybe he was just expecting too much of her.

"Oh, good to know, I suppose." The Warden felt obliged to answer as he waited for Leliana to finish bandaging him up. He felt a bit awkward that everyone was waiting for him. "Well, not bleeding anymore. I take that as a good sign." His shoulder still ached like mad, but the poultice provided at least a bit of relief.

Sten ignored him. "What about the human? The girl is gone. Vashedan, this has all been a waste of time."

"We came down here, just like he asked. Which means the shem owes me the right code word now. The plan hasn't changed at all. I will not leave without the golem." With a shrug Lenya headed toward the exit. The hasty motion caused her to wince slightly. Her side burned like fire. She would need to find some elfroot once they were out of here. She wanted to leave this dreaded place behind as soon as possible.

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---

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"What do you mean she's dead?" Matthias stared wide-eyed at Lenya, his gaze full of disbelief.

"Just as I said, human." The elf shrugged. "There was nothing we could do. Now give me the correct code word."

As usual, Alistair thought as he arched an eyebrow, she is a shining example of compassion.

"We are sorry for your loss, Matthias. I wish there was more we could have done..." Leliana interjected and earned herself a furious glare from Lenya. "...but there wasn't," she added quickly, feeling somewhat intimidated.

"I...see-" the man's voice broke. He looked as though he might start crying at any second. "My poor butterfly..."

Tap, tap, tap, tap. "The code word."

She understood his dismay, but she didn't have the patience to deal with a grieving shem; especially not after fighting a village full of darkspawn and a demon-infested laboratory.

"Oh," Matthias murmured. His voice came out in shaky breaths. "...Of course. I...don't know why ...someone would want to awaken that thing...but the correct word is 'dulen harn'." He swallowed hard. "If...if you would excuse me, I want to leave this place." With that, the man sprinted toward the exit.

"Well, at least the fool kept his word," Morrigan muttered as she watched him vanish. "We should go and get the golem, lest this wasteful day lose any and all purpose."

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---

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She took a deep breath as she finally left the cellar behind for good.

Lenya had almost forgotten how amazing it was to breathe fresh air. Well, smoke-filled air actually, but it was still a vast improvement over the heady stench of must in the cellar. The fire was still flickering and burning; it hungrily devoured the buildings in the area. The village was lost, fallen to the wrecking frenzy of the darkspawn. Lenya wasn't completely heartless, and she felt a pang of sympathy over the destructed state of this shem village. She had more important things to worry about, however, and she would finally get what she'd sought out in the first place.

"Wait," Alistair intervened," ...are you sure you want to do this?" Her head snapped up at him. She wanted to chide him for such a stupid question, but after taking in his sweaty face, and the blood-sodden bandage around his shoulder, she held her tongue. Instead she only peered at him... and for the briefest of moments their eyes met. She detected the concern visible within his. She quickly averted her gaze and turned from him. She hastened her pace to the rigid statue in the middle of the square, leaving her companions behind. Pleased to find that the control rod was where she had left it, the elf picked it up and spoke the two words, loud and clear.

"Dulen harn." Lenya stared wide-eyed and with baited breath at the mass of stone as it suddenly began to crack and burst. She took a step back as the golem started to move its massive head, followed by both of its arms. Stone creaked and cracked as the golem unbent, its true size monumental. Lenya gasped. It was an impressive sight to behold. The golem stretched one last time. A strange white light radiated where other creatures would have had eyes. They probably were its eyes...or so the Dalish guessed.

"Oh great. Someone finally found the control rod. Probably stumbled over it by accident, huh?" Lenya winced as it spoke, its tone of voice was tinny and dull.

Alistair was not only impressed by the golem's appearance, but also surprised by its choice of words. Somehow it sounded...sarcastic?

It took several moments before Lenya remembered how to speak. "Yes, I found the control rod, but it wasn't by accident."

"So it knew what it was doing, then? I'm impressed," it interrupted her. Its eyes glowed down at the elf, as if biding her for a response.

Definitely sarcastic. Alistair raised an eyebrow. Maybe even funny, in a way.

"Hmm, odd." Morrigan spoke up, "I would assume that the golem would be grateful to the person who freed it after all this time. Silly me."

It turned its head toward the young woman, a great sigh escaping it. "Oh, and here we have a mage, of all things. Wonderful." Morrigan didn't answer, instead she only glared in its direction. "But to answer its question," the golem continued, "I'm not displeased to be awake again. I have watched these blasted villagers scurry around me for many, many years. Say," it directed its words to Lenya again, "are all villagers dead?"

"No, not all. A few escaped the darkspawn."

"Too bad." It replied dryly. "So it does have a reason to awaken me, doesn't it?"

Lenya knitted her brows. "Why are you calling me 'it'? My name is Lenya, golem."

"That is the very reason I refer to it as such," it scoffed, obviously disapproving. "I am called golem all of the time, so why should it have it any better, then? Oh, how I remember being ordered about; golem, get me that chair; golem, chase the bandits away; golem, carry me the rest of the way, my feet are too tired. Maddening."

"You mean your previous master? The one you killed?" Alistair inquired, feeling uneasy... – and his injury played only a small part in his discomfort.

"Did I? I don't remember...maybe I did as he screamed 'golem, don't crunch my head'." It chuckled.

"Interesting." Now it was Lenya who sighed. She was exhausted and wished for nothing more than a bath and her bedroll. "Do you have a name?"

"It is Shale."

"Good, Shale," The Dalish woman went on, raising the control rod. "I have had enough of this place, so let's get out of here. You can tell your stories later."

"I would appreciate that," Sten chipped in and pointed at Alistair, whose face was becoming more and more pallid. "...because if the human collapses, I will not carry him."

"I think I'll survive either way, thanks," Alistair snarled back. Despite all of the blood, sweat and pain he was enduring, he put his brave face on. At least, he thought it was his brave face.

"More's the pity," he ignored Morrigan's obligatory bitchy comment, his mind was too busy lamenting over the fact that they had an hours long walk ahead of them before reaching the main camp. It wasn't really a happy thought.

"Let's go, Shale." Lenya repeated and turned to leave, the control rod still in her hand.

The creature was about to follow when it suddenly began to stir within its movements. "Strange, I feel no urge to obey its orders. It did give an order, didn't it?"

Lenya rolled her eyes. "Of course I did! Did you take it for a suggestion?"

"It has the control rod, hasn't it?"

More stupid questions? She was growing weary of the stony...thing. Sighing, the elf raised the little staff into Shale's sight. "Now you'll tell me the control rod is broken. It would be a wonderful end to a wonderful day," Lenya bit off in a rather caustic tone.

"It is broken. I feel no urge to do as it says." With the golem's unnatural voice, the comment sounded even drier than intended.

The sentence hung silently in the air for a moment. Lenya glared down at the useless item in her hands, her fingers tightened around it. With a roar of anger she heaved it away from herself. The control rod flew through the air and shattered into several pieces upon hitting the nearest wall of a burning building. All eyes were on her, each of them displaying a mixture of surprise and shock.

"It has some anger issues, I see?" Alistair could barely contain his amusement at Shale's pinpoint observation.

"No." She glared defiantly up at the creature, heedless of the almost comical difference in height. "I just have problems with smart-ass golems that aren't as controllable as they're supposed to be."

Shale chuckled. "Too bad for it, then. The crystals must have altered my function somehow. At least one good thing came from the mage's experiments, I suppose. So what will it do with me now, hmm?"

"What do you want to do?"

Shale heaved its massive shoulders. "Aside from leaving the place where I stood frozen for thirty years? I don't know. I have no memories, no purpose."

A purpose. Inwardly, Lenya laughed scornfully. She had but one purpose left. "I still have many, many darkspawn to kill." She sighed, her tone almost weary. "I'm a Grey Warden. On an important mission to stop the Blight and all that. I could use your help."

"Darkspawn? Crushing their squishy, stinking heads sounds like fun." It seemed to contemplate this notion. "They are evil, evil creatures and need to be destroyed…though not as evil as the birds. Feathery, wicked fiends." Shale shuddered. "Should I come with it then? I haven't anything better to do."

Lovely. Lenya paused momentarily, weighing the option against the dangers of having an uncontrollable golem as companion. "How can I trust you, Shale?"

"I don't know. How does it trust its other companions without a control rod?"

"That's simple: It doesn't."

Alistair winced at her words. He should have expected something like that from her lips, but nonetheless the comment stung almost as much as his wounded shoulder.

"Charming. So, I will promise not to accidentally sit on it, or crush its head unless it decides to treat me as my previous owner did. Will that suffice?"

Lenya eyed the golem in front of her. Eventually its practicality won over her better judgment. "I guess it has to. Let's go, then."

With that she turned to leave, with one more companion in tow.

Chapter 19: The First Cut Is The Deepest

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The water felt good on her skin.

Immediately after their return, Lenya went to the lake - which was fairly secluded from the rest of their camp. The moon had replaced the sun; its glowing light reflected softly in the water, illuminating everything around her in a delicate silver glow. It was soothing scenery in the night, a place detached from the rest, somehow like a dream. Everything else was distant at the moment; only the tranquility and her own, stable breathing was palpable to her. Her lips quivered when she had dived under the cold water once again. Lenya washed away the blood, the sweat, and the hectic feel of the day... but the memories remained. Memories of that elven ruin had been branded into her head and she wasn't capable of willing them away again - not since she had stared into the dark, hollow eyes of one of those monsters in Honnleath that day.

Memories were normally a wonderful thing; something you hold dear when looking back. In Lenya's case however, it was something frightening to face because it could shred her to tiny, little pieces inside, leaving her undone.

"How could walking corpses be here, Tamlen?"

"Well Lenya, Hahren Paivel once said that in places where many people died, it can become setheneran – a land of waking dreams. The Veil becomes weak and spirits slip into our world. Then they possess corpses and walk around…"

"Smart-ass."

Stirred by this remedy, the water splashed audibly as she vacillated within. Ironically, darkspawn didn't evoke such an emotional response from of her. There was just pure, unaltered hatred for them. The need to kill them - nothing more. But those walking corpses, the stench of death, those hollow eyes - it was still too achingly familiar. A reminder of the all too fresh past, of the biggest mistake of her life. One she had nearly paid for with her life, while Tamlen had to.

My fault, my fault, her mind chanted, and Lenya found herself bitterly agreeing on those thoughts. A freezing breeze gushed over her naked form, which shuddered in response, reminding her that it was time to get out of there quickly. Rivulets of water ran down her neck, and then her spine, as she darted up and waded through it to reach the side of the lake and her fresh clothing.

Arai's head tilted up as his mistress was coming closer and his stumpy tail was wagging in anticipation to receive her, after he had faithfully waited for her all the time. Much to his disappointment, Lenya didn't pay him much attention at all as she dried herself up and quickly got dressed. Her mind was just too occupied for that.

Captured in a rather complicated rush of emotions, she had too many problems to keep at bay or to even discern. One of those many feelings was certainly anger at herself, at her own stupidity. She had frozen in front of those creatures like a scared little girl, endangering not only her own life by doing so, but also that of her fellow Warden. Unwillingly, the images of his ragged breathing, the afflicted heavy steps, and the hand clutching onto his injured shoulder on their way back turned up in her mind again.

Lenya felt responsible for it, somehow.

Her tunic rustled softly as she pulled it over her head. Her movement was automatic while her mind was absent, in a far distant place. The elven woman couldn't grasp his motivation for what he had done and was not sure if she even wanted to know. All she knew was that she probably should do something for that idiot who'd saved her, if only to wash away a bit of the guilt that threatened to take over her being.

Lenya sighed.

Memories were indeed a tricky, twisted thing.

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---

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"Hold still, Alistair, we need to get rid of it for a proper treatment."

In the center of camp, Leliana did her best to remove the bloodied and makeshift pressure bandage from earlier, but the Warden just fidgeted too much around for it.

"Ouch, ouch." He knew that the bouncing up and down of him was complicating the whole process of getting a new bandage, but he couldn't help it. The sedative effect of the poultice was long gone – if there even had been any to start with – and now every tiny brush at his injury drove him insane. Another glare from Leliana made him finally hold still, although with difficulty.

Alistair laughed slightly. Some hero he was, first bravely jumping in to save the day, and now he was complaining about the consequences of his new, impulsive actions. Well, granted, not the consequences in whole… rather, the pesky, stinging pain that came along with it. Maybe he was just so sensitive about it because it had been so long since he had last had the unwanted taste of a blade within his flesh. His training in the Chantry had been rather controlled, after all, and Duncan mostly kept him out of the fights during his six months of being a Warden.

A luxury Alistair first never wanted and now didn't have anymore. He was one of the last remaining Grey Wardens fighting the Blight, after all. Every day would be a struggle of life and death now, so given what still could happen, the injury was a triviality, a little scratch. He should never forget that.

Also it would have far been worse had that particular blow hit the intended target...

The fire cackled and cracked softly not far from him, drawing his gaze hypnotically into the dancing flames. He swore to himself not to doubt the success of their mission, but surrounded by the stillness of the camp and his own vulnerability, it was simply too easy to be engulfed by the heaviness of the task. Alistair believed that Lenya would eventually be capable of achieving what settled in that stubborn head of hers, no matter the cost.

Truth be told, he wouldn't be surprised if she could drive the archdemon back into its dark, deep cave with one of her vicious glares alone. At that, the pictures of her confrontation with the much bigger Shale earlier came back to his mind, letting him smirk briefly. It appeared that she was adapting to the role of a leader better every day, or she was good in making it seem so.

Alistair didn't know for sure.

The young Warden was more uncertain what his role in all this would be, jumping in front of blades aside. It's not that he was anyone special – he was just a simple fool lucky enough to survive where all the others had to die instead.

He wished it could have been the other way around.

If he could have saved one of them... the king or even Duncan, then he would have happily taken the blow for them...

He flinched as a sharp biting pain rippled through his system, which put him out of his grim reverie. Alistair's eyes focused back in front of him, noticing that Leliana finally had removed the bandage, which had been strapped tightly around his shoulder before. As he looked down at himself, Alistair sighed. He was quite a sight; his splintmail armor was partly torn apart, tattered, and completely caked in blood and dirt. Some pieces of splint even hung loosely down against his body. All the hours of effort he previous made to patch it up again had seemingly been wasted ones.

Wow, super.

Leliana scrutinized his fairly deep flesh wound. "I'll get some water to boil it. We need to clean the wound." Oh that sounds like fun. "You may want to get rid of the armor in the meanwhile. It's battered anyway."

"I don't think we know each other well enough for th... – "

Her look silenced him. "Alistair, poultices are actually more effective when applied directly to a wound and not around the armor."

Alistair sighed and wearily rubbed his face with his right, still armored hand. "I know. I was joking."

Leliana's lip quirked up to a smirk. "Good to know you are still capable of jesting. According to your demeanor, one could assume it is a mortal wound."

"Hey, it's not the first time I've been injured like this," he protested. "... It has just been a while, you know?"

"Figured." Leliana snatched a little bucket up from the ground and vanished in the direction of the lake.

Alistair waited for a moment before he rose from the log, discarding his gloves to the side. As he finally stood upright, he turned around to begin the difficult task of peeling himself out of this...thing. Alistair used to love his splintmail armor, but how one should get out of it with only one functional arm due to a wounded shoulder was mysterious to him.

Well time to find out.

Gnashing his teeth together, he mostly used his right hand to undo the leathery straps at the side and tried to hold his shoulder still in the process. Of course, he was hardly successful in this, which made him hiss in pain and swear loudly as he bounced around, trying to get out of the demolished body armor.

Another turn followed, as the final strap didn't obey as wished. "Maker, you damn... stubborn... thing."

The sight amused Lenya. Since he hadn't noticed her arrival, she decided to watch his noisy 'armor dance' a while longer, one eyebrow raised. What an odd human he was...

"Need help?" Her tone was seeping with amusement.

Alistair jerked at the sudden, unexpected voice, the unthinking motion causing him another wave of pain. "Ouch, ahh. No, I'm perfectly fine," he hissed, his face and body away from her. As if it wasn't enough to have the giant Qunari staring in his direction, now even his fellow Warden joined Sten in his disapproving 'you are an-idiot' stare. Probably. He wouldn't turn around to find out.

"Yeah you totally look like that, puppy," Lenya retorted dryly and sighed. She stepped closer and loosened the last strap that held his armor together. One quick movement with his healthy arm was then enough to send the armor to the ground with a loud thud. Alistair inhaled deeply. Finally. Now the only awkward thing left to do was turn around and face her in his bloodied and sweaty tunic. Brilliant. And where was Leliana with the water anyway? He really could use some now.

The elf studied him for a moment, wondering why he was zoning out in the bleak night, face still away from her. "If this is a human way of playing hide and seek, it isn't working, I can say. I can still see you."

Despite himself, Alistair grinned."Ah, really? Too bad. And here I thought I'm Mr. Stealth, melting into the shadows or something like that."

"No, you are Mr. Obvious." He heard her saying, followed by an exasperated sigh but it also had a hint of amusement in it.

So,little Miss Grumpy Girld is absent right now? Interesting.

Slowly, Alistair turned around again and was temporarily bewildered at the sight. In front of him didn't stand the armored, fierce, and blood-smeared Dalish woman he used to know. Quite the opposite. She apparently took a bath; her blond hair was still wet and casually hung down around her face, framing it. Instead of armor and her weapons, she only wore simple clothes of dark linen, which were a bit too large for her small figure.

An unusual picture indeed...

Lenya waited a moment for him to say something, but he seemed to have spaced out again. Which appeared to be one of his favorite things to do, along with running in front of blades. Idiot. "You are an odd human," she scoffed and rolled her eyes.

He laughed at that. "And you are not the first to say that." Alistair noticed the mortar and pestle she was carrying in one of her hands and pointed at it. "What's this? Already time for dinner? You are too good to me."

She yanked the vessel away from him. "This isn't for eating, you idiot. Though it might be funny if..."

"Oh, Lenya, hello." Instead to finishing her sentence, the elf let out a groan at Leliana's appearance. The woman put the bucket down, choosing to ignore the elf's behavior. "Is your injury okay?"

"Yes. I can take care of that myself." The elf's snappy tone caused not only Leliana to flinch. If there has been any doubt of her dislike of the redheaded woman left, Lenya had successfully convinced Alistair otherwise now. This was all the more so for Leliana, who appeared momentarily speechless at the blatant animosity displayed towards her.

Heedless of her reaction, Lenya's gaze wandered down to the bucket. "Oh, you brought water, just what I needed. Good. Now go away."

Leliana only gaped at her, utterly bewildered. "Why- I - " For a moment she lingered and pondered whether to argue or not. Her sigh signaled that she had decided not to. "Fine. Have it your way."

Alistair didn't know what expression he made as he watched Leliana disappear to her tent, but he was sure it wasn't his most clever one. Confounded, he observed how the Dalish woman heaved the bucket up. "W-what are you going to do with the water?"

Lenya glanced up. "Pouring it over you if you don't stop asking dumb questions, that is."

Instead of fulfilling this threat, the elf poured a great amount of the water in a clean pot and put it near the fire to let it steam. Satisfied with her work, she took half of the greenish, herbal paste out of the vessel and threw it in the pot. Almost instantly the air nearby was filled with a sickish odor of tart moss and something... dead. It was atrocious. Alistair could only compare the scent to how the undead had smelled that day. Not really a flattering compliment for her cooking skills. If it was cooking that she was doing, however.

He pointed at the pot. "That reeks." Having sniffed the air, Arai quickly left Lenya's side and fled to the other side of the camp. Unintentionally, the Mabari had emphasized Alistair's words in a comical way.

Lenya's lip quirked slightly up. "Well, fitting for you then."

Ouch. Another wound to his pride. She was really good at this, he had to admit. "You are right," he said and pouted. "I really don't want to eat that."

"And you shouldn't, either. It's fairly poisonous when ingested. Nevertheless it's a good medicine to disinfectant wounds. Unless you swallow it, that is." Gingerly, she squatted down near the pot, waiting for it to steam. After a second or two, she looked up to him. "Now get off with that grimy shirt. I'm not touching that... thing."

Temporarily, the situation was too much for Alistair's brain to grasp, so it fried and left him unable to stammer anything but incoherent words. "You want to... that I... that you..."

Lenya sighed and suppressed the urge to throw the vessel with the other half of the herbs onto his head. It would have been a waste after she went through the trouble of creating the paste out of her remaining herbs. Instead, she only threw him a glare, knowing that it would silence his idiotic babbling. "Do I have to repeat myself?"

"No, no I heard you," he eagerly chipped in while blinking, confused. It's just so grotesque that she wants to help me. Alistair felt awkward as he eventually pulled the bloodied tunic over his head, aware of the fact that he stood half-naked in front of his fellow Warden. His female fellow Warden. Fortunately, his aching shoulder reminded him that the reasons were all but romantic ones. He watched her standing up and vanishing into her tent.

"Now that is funny, leaving me stan..." Before he could finish his sentence, the elf reappeared with a fairly sized, white linen cloth in her hands.

"What is funny?"

My idiocy. "Nothing. I- I... you don't have to do this."

She didn't answer at first; rather, she concentrated on ripping the linen cloth in two pieces. After finishing this, she put the smaller fabric in the now boiling herbal water. "I know."

Alistair didn't know what to say on that, so he observed her in silence. It really looked like she knew what she was doing, as if she had done it many times before. He wondered if the Dalish had done the same for the people in her clan when they were injured. Subconsciously, his breath caught as she came close to him, the steaming, wet cloth in her hands.

"This might burn a bit now," she murmured in an almost apologetic tone, "... but it has to, in order to disinfect the wound." Lenya scrutinized the flesh wound on the side of his shoulder for a moment. It was fairly visible where the dagger had stuck despite his armor. If that blow would have hit her...

She halted in her movements, glancing up to him. "Why?"

The Warden blinked, confused as her questioning eyes met his. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"Why did you do this? I don't understand." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

Alistair smiled warmly. "Well... we are fellow Grey Wardens, are we not? We have to take care of each other." Oh great, Alistair. Hurray for a cheesy line like that. He half awaited the snarky comment that she could take care of herself... but it didn't come.

Instead she only lowered her gaze again. "I see." For a moment, the elf stirred and tensed. It looked to him as if she was contemplating something back and forth.

Unbeknownst to him was the fact that Lenya really needed a moment to stomach his answer. She had expected every kind of stupid comment from his lips, perhaps even a lame joke. Though instead of doing so, he said something like that. It was... surprising, if not also confounding, to hear this kind of a sentence coming from his lips. Lenya took a deep breath to gather her thoughts again, before she eventually stepped closer to him and begin to wash his wound clean with the herbal water.

Lenya didn't lie. It burned. That was, however, not a strong enough word to describe it, as Alistair felt the urge to wince and wail. Liquid fire in my veins would be more appropriate, he thought, yet did his best to not show it. The pain accelerated his breathing and under the heady stench of the herbs he could discern another, faint scent. Soap, mixed with the smoke of the firewood maybe.

It wasn't unpleasant.

Alistair soon realized that it was her smell and held his breath. She was standing so close to him now, that he even could see the freckles around her nose when he looked down. Maker he hadn't even known that she had freckles. And at the right cheek she even had a faint scar, and he couldn't help but wonder where she had gotten that. Catching himself staring at the finer lines of her concentrated face, Alistair quickly averted his eyes in another direction and gulped hard. Awkward...

Lenya didn't regard him further, as she cautiously disinfected the wound. It was not the first time she had done something like that, so the dried blood and the wound itself didn't disgust her. It was just the first time she was doing it for a human. The difference was quite noticeable to her, however. He was big and bulky – muscular even – while the hunters she had treated were all lean and naturally smaller.

Humans are indeed... odd.

Alistair started to shift his weight from one foot to the other as the silence stretched further. Feeling somewhat uncomfortable with the long pause, he started to talk. "So how come you are so adept in these herbal things?"

It was not the most intelligent question, which she expressed immediately with her sardonic look. "Is this a serious question? Or are you just being an idiot again?"

He grinned slightly. "I think I'm losing here if I say 'take your pick.' So yeah, truth is, I'm curious. Didn't mean to offend you, though."

"Okay," the elf sighed resignedly. "I will tell you, although I doubt you will understand. We Dalish..." She paused to swallow down the pang of homesickness she felt. "… are responsible for each other. Each member of my clan is an important and substantial part of our community. Only together we can function as a clan. That is not the reason I learned this, however, but it is helpful for all the little scratches and injuries where healing magic isn't needed. And Dalish hunters get scratched quite a lot..." Lenya looked down and smiled wistfully. More for the fact that she was repeating Hahren Paivel's preaching, which she had hated so much before, and now reveled fondly in the memory of his words. She bit down the tears. They weren't fond memories, however.

Thinking on her clan was bound to hurt.

Alistair was baffled to hear her actually talking about her clan. She never had done that before and, seeing her sad expression in the flickering light of the fire, he quite understood why. Or assumed to know. "No, I think I... understand. I'm sorry, Lenya. You must miss them a great deal." His tone was soft and compassionate.

She took an audible intake of air; the bloodied cloth of linen suddenly fell out of her hand to the ground. For a brief moment, she believed that she would follow the cloth to the ground; that she would also sink into dust. And for the same amount of time, she wanted to. Lenya felt mellow, her treacherous knees shook as she tried to gather the myriads of emotions into a whole, stable one.

She failed.

Stupid, stupid human.

Irrational anger seethed up in her.

Why must he say all those things?

The things that let her remember of what she had had once. Of what she had lost.

Lenya didn't want to remember that.

Her hands balled to a fist as she glared up at him. "Don't act as if you would know me, human," she spat, her voice shaking. She would not cry. Never.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pry," he replied, actually shocked by her intense reaction. Lenya didn't answer; instead she squatted down to pick the cloth up again. And on the way down, herself too.

"You haven't." The Dalish took a deep breath, while she threw the dirtied piece of linen into the fire. It smoldered away with a hiss. "So, where do you have the poultice?" Her voice was even again, her face an unreadable mask.

"Here." Bewildered of her sudden mood swing, Alistair handed her the bandage. He looked at her intensively, sympathy and sadness evident in his expression. I know how you feel, he wanted to say. I have also lost everything. But he decided against it and kept it to himself.

"You may want to sit down."

Her business-like voice startled him a bit. "Why?"

"Because this will hurt now. Until the sedative effect of the herbs kicks in, that is. They will also support the wound healing but, directly applied, it will burn like fire first."

"Sound like fun, really." Alistair shrugged and simultaneously regretted this unthinking motion. At least the pain kicked him out of his wistful mood. He sat down, watching her take the rest of the green, stinky paste and apply it directly to his shoulder then. Immediately, his mind went blank as a storm of fire rushed through his body, taking his breath away.

Lenya stopped and looked at him, somewhat sympathetic. She knew how much it hurt and didn't envy him right now. "Only a moment longer."

Alistair waited for the burning to stop and, after a bit, it finally did. He sighed, appeased. "Wow, the pain is indeed gone now. And not only the burning pain, I mean. Thank you."

"Mhm," Lenya only hummed and started to wrap the bandage tightly around his shoulder. "You will need to rest your shoulder for a few days. So no fighting."

He nodded. "Understood. Well then let us just hope the darkspawn will also be so considerate." Alistair bit his lip. "I'm sorry that I'll delay our journey, though."

The elf couldn't believe that he was actually sorry for getting injured. An injury that should have been hers in the first place. "Now, that is just stupid, puppy. I need you at full strength, so stop being so noisy about it."

That made him smile. Lenya's concern wasn't visible at first glance and her words appeared somewhat rude, but the careful way she was tending his wound told him otherwise. And this was worth more than a simple thank you from her lips. "Okay, I suppose we need to restock our supplies anyway..." His smile morphed to a smug one. "... with you having eaten everything we had and so on."

Lenya scoffed. "I hate this. Blame the damn taint for it, not me, puppy."

Alistair glanced up to her and observed the pattern of the tattoo on her forehead. "Don't worry it will get better in time. Anyway... why have you given me such a ridiculous nickname?"

"Because you are a big stupid puppy. Always barking, always noisy, that is."

Her deadpanned way in expressing it caused him to laugh. "Charming indeed, my lady. Yet better than being a big stupid cat, eh? What is this about? You slay darkspawn without to blink but are afraid of cats? Really, Lenya?" Even now, that fact seemed weird to him; nevertheless, it amused him greatly.

Another thing she didn't want to be reminded of, and yet he was shamelessly asking about it. Must be a talent or something, Lenya thought, annoyed, and subconsciously pulled the bandage a bit tighter than needed. "I'm not afraid of cats, actually. I just hate them."

Alistair tilted his head. "Hmm… okay, but why? They are harmless animals, really. You know in fact, I once had a very large cat when I was a boy..."

"They aren't harmless; they are evil," Lenya rushed to chip in.

Alistair chuckled. "Now you sound like Shale, only with cats, that is. Buuut I get your point, I think. I thought the same of my cat when we were diverting the food in the stable. That thug often ran away with my ration when I wasn't paying attention for a moment. No wonder he became so large within a short time." He sighed, momentarily sunken in the memory. "Good times. Still, you haven't answered my question."

"Now you are prying and annoying. That really is a talent of yours, huh?" She seemed a bit vexed.

"Okay, okay… figured," the Warden said and raised his healthy hand in defense. "Little miss grumpy girld reared her head again. You don't need to tell me if you don't want to."

"Good, I don't want to." Lenya glowered at him for a moment before eventually fastening the bandage with a few, ably knots. "I think we are finally done, fortunately. Which is good because I'm really tired... If you'll excuse me now, I have an appointment with darkspawn in my dreams. Ugh." The elf grimaced and turned on her heel.

He snickered, amused by her sudden rush to get away from him. "Well then, say hi to them for me."

Oh, back to lame jokes, are we? Lenya groaned and answered without to turn around. "Do it yourself."

"Oh, right, I have nearly forgotten that... Lenya?" he called after her, causing her to stop her pace, even if only reluctantly.

"What now?" Being away from the camp's fireplace, she was almost completely enveloped by the shadows of the night.

Alistair looked down at himself, admiring briefly the clean and good work she had made with the bandage. "That was unex–" He cleared his throat."... I mean, thank you for your help."

"No, ma serannas... I thank you, Alistair." Lenya murmured quietly and turned again to go to her tent, leaving a very perplexed Warden behind.

.

.

---

.

"Elf!"

Before Lenya could actually slip into her tent, the huge form of the Qunari stepped in the way, his expression stony.

"Sten." The elf sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers. She was tired and not truly in the mood for any kind of conversation anymore, yet asked nevertheless. Playing the nice and friendly leader, that is. Ugh. "What do you want?"

"I don't understand. You look like a woman." His dark eyes stared down at her in confusion.

Her shoulders sagged in resignation. She neither wanted to know why that giant was asking such an utterly moronic question nor actually answer it. Yet, given Sten's stoic demeanor, she was aware that she had no other choice. "Oh, is that so? What gave that away, I wonder?"

"You fight. So it followed that you can't be a woman."

Lenya blinked, feeling very much dumbfounded, and hoped in the corner of her mind that he was actually joking. He simply had to, although it would be the lamest joke ever. She observed his expression, wanting to find a hint of jest in those hard facial features but was appalled to see that the Qunari was dead-serious. Just wonderful... "So, news to you then. I'm a woman and I fight. Obviously."

"One of the things can't be true. Women are shopkeepers, priests, artisans or farmers. They don't fight."

Her confusion shifted quickly into irritation. In fact, she was on the brink of snapping, heedless of the stronger and much taller man in front of her.

Breathe, Lenya, breathe... The Dalish tried to calm herself but it was for naught as her temper won over. "If you want to imply that I have to sit crying in a corner and wait for some man to save me just because I'm a woman, forget it!" She glared up at him in defiance, breathing heavily. "It is not my fault, Sten that your sight is too narrow-minded to recognize that I was raised and trained my whole life to be able to fight. If you have a problem with it... well, there is the entrance to the camp…" Lenya pointed her finger into the darkness "... use it the other way around!" Her lower lip was the only part of her that was moving, trembling, while she remained frozen in front of him, her posture a wholy threatening one.

The elf felt deeply offended by the Qunari's words. In her clan, all Dalish women were able to fight. It was as natural as breathing. So in her view, it was an insult not only to herself but to her culture as a whole. Lenya happened to like Sten's calm, sturdy nature, actually, but this had really pissed her off.

Sten stared silently down at her for a moment, trying to make sense of the many words the elf had yelled at him. It only confounded him more. "So you must be different then? You don't look different to me. You are an elf. The size of your hand, whether you are clever or foolish, the color of your hair or the land you came from. These are things beyond your control. We don't choose, we simply are. So how should it possible for you to choose what you aren't? I don't understand."

Observing him a moment longer, she recognized a genuine confusion in the otherwise so steely gaze, which fitted his words. Eventually, this perception made it back to her with a sigh. Sten didn't want to insult her; he really just didn't understand. Lenya often forgot that he was used to a whole different culture and foreign to this world. Just like her and yet so... disparate.

"Sten," she took a deep breath, "a person can choose who he wants to be. I am a woman, and I fight. It's truly that simple."

"Is it?" the qunari scoffed, still not trusting her words wholly. "We will see." For a moment, it looked like Sten would step out her way but he halted. "So how do you want to defeat the darkspawn?"

Wait, more questions? It's not that she valued Alistair's company much, but right then, Lenya regretted ever having left the fireplace. The human was far less annoying than Sten at that moment, which was indeed a frightening revelation for her. "And here I thought I could go to my tent to rest for a hour or two... Silly me."

Sten ignored her annoyed comment and tone. "If you are the leader like you claim to be, you have to know."

"I didn't clai– " Lenya stopped herself before she could reveal her aversion against the idea of herself leading. "Sten, can we discuss that another time? Like tomorrow?" Her tone was weary, just like she suddenly felt inside – utterly exhausted and… empty.

"More procrastination? That seems to be a virtue of yours. You need a plan. Lingering and hiding in the camp won't stop the Blight. So far, I'm not impressed."

"I'm not here to impress you." She had had enough now. Lenya only wanted to vanish into the protecting darkness of the night, into her tent. So she slipped past his massive stature to her tent, the urge to be alone growing bigger with every step.

Sten didn't hinder her getting away; he only briefly asked himself what to make of this strange, little person. Whether she was a fool or it was a quality of the Grey Warden he hadn't yet heard about, the qunari couldn't say.

Time would tell.

With a dismissive grunt the berassad soldier returned to his patrolling routine.

.

.

---

.

Finally alone.

Lenya let out a heartfelt sigh as she sunk down on her bedroll, embraced by the darkness and security of her tent. Except for a few scattered snippets of different voices and words afar, tranquility claimed her being. Her heart felt heavy, like a massive stone in her chest. The downside of being alone and lying in the darkness were those unwanted pictures and fragments of memories she so desperately kept in check before that threatened to break free again. The elf squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that sleep would wash away her thoughts with a wave of oblivion.

"I'm sorry. You must miss them a great deal..."

Stop it. Stupid human. Lenya rolled around and pressed her face into the bedroll, as if this motion could keep the pictures and snippets of words out of her mind. The elf didn't dare to move anymore, only breathing as much as needed in the vain attempt to keep the anguish at bay and distant.

"You need a plan. Lingering and hiding in the camp won't stop the Blight."

She was no leader; she'd only been shoved and pressed into the role that wasn't her's. Probably never would be. She didn't want that kind of responsibility… had no idea where to go next. Nevertheless, Lenya knew that she had to stay strong, even if the enormous task stole her ability to breathe, oppressing her. Even if she missed each and every single person of her clan and her old life with every fiber of her being, she couldn't cry, had to keep the facade up. Never submit. Maybe it was foolish pride to fight the feelings stirring within, feelings that wanted to make her weak, shattering her. Lenya couldn't allow that to happen. What else was left for her in a world that wasn't her own than to cling onto her pride? Onto a known pattern of a life long lost? A life she missed dearly?

"Well... we are fellow Grey Wardens, are we not? We have to take care of each other."

Those words again in her mind. Lenya didn't trust them, didn't even want to give in to the illusion of them being the truth. In the cold world outside of her clan, she knew she could only trust herself. Distrust she was taught all her life.

Known pattern.

It helped to avoid falling apart completely.

Motionless, she lay in the darkness and waited. For the first time since having those dreams, she wished for the darkspawn to intrude on her mind. At least those would keep her mind occupied and numb the other, even more unwanted pictures.

Lenya didn't know how long she lingered before finally drifting into the much-wanted slumber. Though, as she did, the soft giggling of a young girl rang in her ear. Soon the elf recognized that it was her own voice, as she watched a piece of her own life like a bizarre intruder.

.

.

xxxxxxx

"Lenya, you can play in the wood glade but only where we can see you. And don't eat any berries just because they look tasty." Ashalle watched fondly after the little girl who stormed away, her long blond hair almost swaying in sync with her tripping steps.

Another elven woman came close, observing the little girl in her delighted chase after a butterfly."Isn't she adorable? Her father would have been so proud of her. It's really tragic what happened to him… to our keeper."

"Yes, indeed," Ashalle murmured absently, then turned her head to the Dalish woman from her clan. "I'm just glad she doesn't know. It should stay this way."

Lenya was happy. The sun finally broke through the thick rain clouds and she was allowed to play alone in the wood glade. Like the big girl she already was.

"Butterfly, Butterfly," she sung and followed its unsteady, fluttering path with her eyes, hopping up and down. Suddenly the insect made a turn; its yellow wings carried it deeper into the woods. Without a second thought, the little girl ran after it, the dry branches on the ground faintly crackling under her light steps.

Lenya followed it and saw it land on the hollow trunk of a tree near a massive, towering, green-leafed oak. She decided to inch a bit closer, so she could observe it. Lenya loved butterflies after all.

Gingerly, the girl sneaked closer to the trunk… how a grown up hunter showed her, always afraid of scaring it away. Proud of herself, she squatted down after she managed to come closer and was gazing at the delicate, yellow wings of it. Bound to the curiosity of wanting to know how it felt to touch those, the young girl reached her hand out to the butterfly. Just a moment later, she saw how that motion made him fly away. It drifted high up into the sky and passed the coppice of the wood until it was gone.

She pouted as her big, green eyes followed the insect on its way to the sky. Now she didn't have anyone to play with and Ashalle was still busy with boring, grown-up things she didn't understand. A rustling of branches let her eyes dart in the direction she heard the surprising noise in the otherwise quiet and peaceful forest.

Lenya startled. Two yellow eyes of a strange animal were staring directly at her. She knew a lot of animals but never had she seen such a creature before. With a mixture of curiosity and fear, she slowly inched closer to observe it; the animal didn't back away. It wasn't huge; it had black velvety fur, two little pointy ears and a tail. Aside from its gleaming yellow eyes, Lenya thought that it was an animal she didn't have to be afraid of. Unlike the wolves, which looked a bit similar and yet so... different. She could feel her heart beating with excitement as she was really close to the calmly waiting animal. Lenya bowed down to it and mimicked its comical way of standing on all fours, heedless of the still moist earth. She inched closer, tilted her head, and smiled into the eyes of the animal.

"Will you be my friend? You look nice."

One hand reached out to touch its soft fur, but before she could even touch it, the creature swiped with its paw and scratched her across the cheek with its sharp claw. Then it stormed away, snarling, into the coppice. Lenya fell backward. Shocked, she touched her right cheek and noticed it was bleeding.

Burning and bleeding.

Tears welled into her eyes and ran down her face, which only made the deep scratch burn more. Still sitting on the ground, she started to sob bitterly. She should have never run so deep into the wood glade. 'Now Ashalle will be mad with me for running away...' Lenya thought, '...and won't love me anymore.' Another sob rippled through her throat and tears were flowing fluently now. 'No one ever wants to play with me.'

She didn't know for how long she sat there and cried, as she suddenly heard a boyish voice.

"What are you doing here?"

Lenya wanted to look up to him, but tears were blinding her eyes, so she couldn't see to whom the voice belonged. "There... there... w-was an evil anim... animal..." the little girl tried to explain between the sobs, still covering her face.

"You mean the black one?" She only nodded.

"It is called cat. I have seen it here a few times. The keeper said that there are sometimes animals of the shemlen strolling around in the forest. It probably ran away from them." He looked down and frowned. "Hey, you are bleeding?" The boy rummaged in his pocket and put a slight dirtied handkerchief forward. He bowed down to the still crying girl. "Take this."

Lenya stopped crying and wiped the tears and blood off of her face with it. Now she could finally see the owner of the voice. It was a young boy, only a bit taller than he,r and he had short, tousled, ash-blond hair. Lenya knew him. He was one of her clan, but she always thought he was stupid and had ignored him because he was a boy. Every girl knew that boys were dumb... though maybe she had been wrong.

"Ma serannas." The girl winced as she pressed the cloth on the scratch. She didn't like cats, not at all... but the boy seemed to be nice. "What is your name?"

"Tamlen. I'm already six years old and will be a great hunter one day. That is why I was hunting animals here," he declared proudly and helped her up. "I know you a bit... but I don't know your name."

"I'm Lenya," she sniffled, "... and four years old but I'm already a big girl. Ashalle said that."

"Lenya? That is a nice name..."

She smiled and ignored her burning and bleeding cheek. Suddenly, it wasn't that bad anymore. "Will you be my friend?"

Tamlen smiled back and reached her his hand. "Let's go back."

.

xxxxxxxx

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Lenya choked up, surrounded by complete darkness in her tent. Terrified of the dream she had, she touched her right cheek where the cat had scratched her so long ago.

It was wet with tears.

Startled by her reaction and the haunting memories, she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to compose herself again – but failed. The more she fought against it, the more tears started to fall, and there was nothing she could do about it. Eventually, powerless against all the emotions, Lenya gave up and buried her face in the bedroll.

And for the first time in weeks – after she had lost it all – she cried.

Chapter 20: Carry on

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Alistair found Lenya outside her tent, bent over a huge map of Ferelden and her expression was etched with concern and the utmost concentration.

Shale was standing beside her and curiously surveyed her, enveloping the elf's smaller form in shadows. "So it still has no plan on where to go? Does it like camping so much that it doesn't want to give it up?" The golem's eyes gleamed down at the elf, its voice laced with bitter amusement. Lenya looked up from the map, her tone annoyed. "Do I need to remind you that we still have to wait until that idiot's injury is healed before we can go on?"

"You know I can hear you perfectly well! And your concern is touching, really," he retorted from afar. "My shoulder is much better, thanks to your treatment."

And it was. In the following week when the party ventured once again to Lothering for restocking and did a bit of bandit hunting for some extra coin, Alistair had stayed in camp in order to recuperate. Not voluntary of course, but his injury – and Lenya's glare – left him with no other choice. He was hardly in any condition to argue. Alistair used their absence for a little light training and meditation to keep his abilities up to snuff. One never knew when the darkspawn could attack, so he couldn't let his guard down just because he was feeling under the weather.

"Go on? Pah," Shale scoffed, snapping Alistair's attention back to the present. "To go on, it has to do something first. Other than sit in camp, that is." Lenya didn't reply and only continued to stare at the map, as if she were hoping that the map would tell her where to go first.

She was fully aware that she couldn't waste any more time lingering in camp. The group had grown more and more disquieted within the past few days and it was clear that they were demanding a decision from their leader. Leader... she laughed inwardly, a proper leader would know the direction. She, however, was still very clueless as to what would be their first – or best destination.

Alistair passed by Leliana, who was about to clean the pots from their evening meal and smiled at her briefly. Although Lenya didn't like her much, he got along with her just fine and he valued that she still stood with them, despite the elf's animosity. While walking over to the Dalish, he flexed and rolled his previously sore muscles and although the wound hadn't yet healed completely, it didn't hurt one bit. This was no doubt because of Lenya's knowledge of herbalism, and her treatment with that stinky but helpful herbal paste had sped up the healing process.

Although they still hadn't decided their next destination, it appeared to him that the Dalish woman was more composed now, calm even. Maybe he should offer some help with the directions, since his shoulder was alright again. He owed her at least that much and it was really time to move on now. One more day with Morrigan in camp and things could get…nasty. "As I told you, I can give you directions, if you like."

Lenya sighed. "Yes, Mr. Smart-ass, go on. Tell me where to go." As composed and calm as she was, she was still equal parts snarky. He smiled wryly. Charming.

"So it knows where to go? Why hasn't it said anything?"

"No, I don't know where to go I'm merely offering a suggestion, Shale. I'm not the leader here." Shale grumbled but remained silent. Alistair turned to Lenya again. "Well, why don't we search for a Dalish clan in the Brecilian Forest? You are literally the expert on them. And you'd know the way..."

"No." She cut him off vehemently, and her scowl left no room for discussion.

Alistair blinked, confused. "But why...I don't understand."

"Don't worry shem, I don't expect you to..."

Although her answer had been clear, Alistair tried anew. He just couldn't understand why she was so adamantly against searching for one of the Dalish clans. "Wouldn't you be glad to see a clan of your kin again?"

Her head snapped up and she opened her mouth but decided against saying anything. Instead Lenya lowered her gaze to the map, hoping that he hadn't seen what was surely written in her eyes.

Shale's eyes shifted between the Dalish woman and her fellow Warden, recognizing the tense atmosphere. "It is its folk, is it not? With other painted, squishy elves like itself, correct? And it is far away from those it holds dear." The golem's gaze settled on Alistair. "So doesn't the clown knight think that this would cause the Warden much... discomfort? If I were it, I would want to stay with the other painted elves once I had found them. Thankfully enough, I am not a weak creature of flesh." With one last scoff, the golem turned and left, its step rumbling heavily on the ground.

Alistair stared after the massive form of stone, his mouth taking on a huge 'O'-shape. After another moment, he slapped his own forehead and felt embarrassed. "Of course. I'm sorry Lenya. I should have thought about that ...before I rambled on about how great it would be for you..." he sighed, "...I'm really sorry."

"It's...okay..." Despite her words, she was avoiding having to look at him, her posture still tense. Lenya was still puzzled over how Shale was able to grasp the absolute truth of her motives. Either the creature was that smart, or her emotions were now as easy to read as a book after the night she had cried. Although it had – despite her earlier beliefs– been a very relieving experience, she rather hoped for the first option.

"No," Alistair insisted, "...sometimes I tend to shove my foot in my mouth...or need a huge golem to do that for me." Maker, he was feeling like a jerk now. Eloquent like always, Alistair. Of course she was still homesick, why hadn't he thought about it? "So we don't have to go for the Dalish first. We still have treaties for the dwarves and mages, so one of them...Or," a sly grin found its way onto his face, "...you could just close your eyes and point on the map to decide."

Lenya shrugged. "Why not..."

"Wait...that was a joke...to lighten the mood, you know. You don't seriously... –" Alistair stopped as he watched in horror at how the elf closed her eyes and blindly pointed on the map.

Gingerly, she opened first one, then the other eye to see where her finger had landed and made a face. "Frostback mountains? That sounds...cold."

Alistair watched her for a moment before bursting into laughter. "Well, my lady, you made your choice, now stand by it."

"Shut up," she groused, vexed by his behavior.

"Although the Frostback mountains wouldn't be the exact destination we're looking for, but Orzammar is next to it."

"Orzammar? That is where the durgen'len live, I take it?"

He smiled. "Durgen'len means dwarves, right? Anyway, if you want to go there first, so be it. As I said before I won't argue about it. I just want to mention that this journey won't be easy. It's a long way, indeed." Alistair stepped closer to her and bent over to the map to demonstrate the way. "We need to follow the West Road around Calenhad Lake, then into the mountains through Gherlen's Pass. From there on, Orzammar isn't far."

"That is indeed quite a distance..."

"Yes, it is," he took a deep breath, inhaling the same soapy scent like once before. Appalled, the Warden suddenly realized how close he was standing to her and immediately backed away. He cleared his throat."...but it is manageable, if we prepare well enough for the journey."

"Well then, Orzammar, it is. I always wanted to see dwarves. ...I don't know much about them, though."

"Neither do I. They live rather ...secluded lives. Though I think you will have pleeeenty of opportunities to see and get to know them. We need to see their king, only he has the authority to fulfill the treaty and send out troops for the war."

Lenya looked up at him, a bit unsure. "They will help us, won't they?"

He chuckled. "You still haven't read the treaties yet, have you? They are committed to help the Wardens in times of a Blight. The validity hasn't ceased. I think that's the reason..." Alistair swallowed hard, "...Duncan wanted us to retrieve them."

"You really are a smartass, puppy."

He noticed how one side of her mouth curved slightly up at her words. Apparently, she was mocking him and Alistair was only too willing to return the favor. He awarded her a tiny bow, as elegantly as he could manage. "At your service, my fearless leader." The young man half turned on his heel, a small smile on his lips, before another thought stopped his movements. "Ahh, Lenya. Before we pull up camp for the journey, c-can you do me a favor?"

"Forget it."

"I thought so," he smirked then shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Maybe it was a mistake to bring this up. With Lenya he never knew. "Nonetheless..." he tried anew, harrumphing, "... your Dalish armor...it's not...that it isn't well suited...and all that. It just might be a tad...well... impractical for the things to come."

Lenya looked up at him and frowned. "That is none of your business."

"You are right, it may not be..." but every time an opponent attacks your unprotected abdomen I get a heart attack..."it's just that the Frostback mountains are...cold, very cold." Inwardly he sighed at his own cowardice. Now that will surely be a compelling reason for her to reconsider.

"Cold?" The Dalish scoffed. "I sleep under the stars during winter, I think I can handle that."

Thought so. Now his sigh was audible. "Okay, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought this up. I know you value your armor, as I do mine." A wistful smile graced his features. "I received my splintmail armor right after I joined the Grey Wardens six months ago, so naturally it is...was important to me. Alas, in the end all the hours of patching it up were for naught. Too bad, since it was all I had left from my time with them." With Duncan...

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

That is a good question, actually. "I, uhh ...just thought that we should leave the camp as best equipped as possible. The journey is long and who knows when we will meet Bodahn again, if ever." Alistair pointed at the two dwarves who were sorting their goods at the other side of camp. "Though I can understand if your armor holds a similar value for you as mine did for me. So…sorry for mentioning it."

Lenya gaped at him, caught between confusion and bewilderment. She didn't see the point in this conversation. "I...uhh...see." Why was the human so concerned about her armor? It was true that it held another purpose other than protecting her. It was a piece of home she could wear and take with her in the cold, foreign shemlen world. Though how could he know...and most importantly why did he care? The more she thought about it, the more confused she grew...and annoyed. The elf frowned. "I'm not like you, human. So stop meddling."

He knew it was better to leave it at that. "As you wish. Well, I'm going to pack some stuff up then; my new not- so shiny armor and all that. You may inform the others of your plans, but if you would exclude Morrigan..." he grinned,"...that would be great."

"Not gonna happen."

He sighed over-dramatically, but was subsequently smirking. "Aww, too bad. Well you can't blame me for trying, right? Anyway...when do you plan to decamp?"

The Dalish shrugged. "I don't know, exactly. As soon as we are ready, so I think we should seize this afternoon for preparation and depart at sunrise." Alistair nodded, content with this sensible agreement, and he turned on his heel. Lenya's eyes followed him for a fairly long way, from her outlying camp to his own, until he vanished into his tent. Doing so, she still couldn't help but wonder about the human and his intentions.

The elf didn't understand him, nor had she any desire to, for that matter. He was her fellow Warden and they were bound together by a common goal and the taint, but that didn't mean she trusted him. Alistair was human after all, and by the Elvhenan even the dal'en knew that they couldn't be trusted. It was simply a partnership of convenience, a need to come out alive at the end of this almost impossible task. Still, that didn't mean Lenya wasn't thankful for what he had done in Honnleath. Whatever his reasons were, she still hadn't decided.

She pushed the thoughts aside, folded the map together and sighed. Now that the elf finally had a destination, she was determined to get the durgen'len to help them with their forces, even if it took a lifetime to convince them. Lenya might be young but she was not so naïve that she believed she could fight the Blight with her companions alone. She didn't like it, but she knew she'd need help. In fact, it was time to finally carry on.

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---

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Arai lay curled up at her feet and briefly heaved his head at the rustling sound to verify the source of the noise. He blinked and yawned lazily as one of her hands stroked his ear. Subsequently, the dog stretched his massive muscles to get up as he noticed his mistress leaving in the direction of those short, strange creatures. Instantly, he chose to follow her. Maybe the short, bearded man would have something tasty for him to eat – like he had last time.

"Lethallin," his head snapped up to her voice and tilted it to one side to let her know that he would listen."...have you ever seen the mountains? We are going to see them soon, I suppose."

Arai didn't know what mountains were, but there was something in her tone that he didn't like. For a human – like the big, noisy one – it would have sound excited but his fine mabari ears were telling him there was something else. His mistress seemed kind of sad, her voice etched with a nuance of melancholy. So he licked her hand to appease her; it had always worked in the past.

As well it did now, a small smile graced her features for a moment or two.

"You know during my days with my clan I was famous for being eager to see the world beyond. Now that I have the chance and actually have to travel, I suddenly don't want to anymore. Funny isn't it?"

Despite her words she wasn't laughing, and even another affectionate lick from him couldn't bring the prior smile to her face. Arai felt horrible, as if he had failed as the faithful mabari he ought to be for his mistress. Suddenly her warm hands were stroking along the thick fur of his back.

"However, I'm glad that you are with me, Arai."

He couldn't bark quickly enough to emphasize that he would be with her no matter what. More so, he would protect her with his life; whether it was from those stinking creatures whose blood always burned in his mouth like fire, or from these strange mountain things which seemed to make her so sad.

Wherever she went, he would follow.

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---

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"Bodahn?"

The dwarf stepped forward and his eyes gleamed warmly as he recognized the voice. "Ah, Lenya, my favorite customer. What can I do for you today, my lady?"

Lenya's first impulse was to answer "Shut up and listen" but she bit it down. Instead she folded her arms and looked down at him, which was odd enough for her because normally the small elf always had to look up when talking to people. "We will depart tomorrow at sunrise, so I need supplies. What do you have?"

"All the best, and at the lowest prices as usual," Bodahn nodded, pleased. "For you I've given an extra discount, I might add. Anything in particular, my lady?"

"Enchantment?" The younger dwarf named Sandal exclaimed with excitement as he looked at the Dalish woman.

Lenya sighed. "No, as much I appreciate your crafting skills with those runes, no enchantment tonight." The young dwarf looked slightly disappointed for a moment, before he shrugged and went back to sort through his goods again. Lenya was amazed at how he remained unperturbed from all sorrow from one moment to the next. It was a talent of the simpleminded dwarf, and she envied it at times. Snapping out of her reverie, she cleared her throat. "Aside from the usual potions and stuff, I would like some information on top of that."

Bodahn knit his brows. "What is it an old dwarf could tell you about?"

"About Orzammar. We plan to journey there eventually, but I know nothing about dwarves."

"Oh." He fell silent for a second or two, before he continued. "So you want to hear my story?"

"Not sure about that, actually," the elf answered. "Though I would like to hear about the Durgen'len in particular. Our clan didn't know much and to be frank hadn't really cared about them, but now that we are going to Orzammar, I want to know a bit." Bodahn nodded and so he started to tell her his story, about dwarves and Orzammar; always aware to keep it informative but short. He knew that this woman wasn't the most patient person, but to his surprise she turned out to be an avid listener. "And that's all I can tell you, my lady. Orzammar, however, you can't describe with words, you must see it with your own eyes," the dwarf finished and smiled at her.

"A whole city built under rocks. Wow." Lenya blinked and took a deep breath. She was definitely impressed, yet she couldn't imagine how one could voluntarily live like that. To never see the sun...or the stars; it was a horrible thought for her.

"Not only a whole city, but a whole empire," he added. "Anyway, can I do anything else for you?"

Still occupied with processing the information he'd provided, she numbly shook her head. Never had the Dalish thought that it would become that complicated; especially for her first destination. "No, aside from the usual supplies, I don't need anything." Lenya had almost turned on her heels again, when she suddenly stopped in her motions, a thought occurring to her. She didn't know why but before she could rethink it, her mouth blurted it out.

"Wait, d-do you perhaps have fitting, thick-leather armor for me?"

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Chapter 21: The Little Things You Give Away

Alistair looked up at the darkened sky and let out a heartfelt groan.

A thunderstorm…could things get any worse?

As if ambushing darkspawn, bandits and wild animals during their two weeks of arduous journey wasn't bad enough. No, now the weather had also decided to join in on their misfortune. The rain, or rather the torrential downpour that fell from the sky in buckets had been their constant companion ever since they'd finally left the road leading through the Frostback Mountains.

At first he'd hoped that the rain would cease within the first few hours of wandering. Much to his dismay, it increased to a full-fledged thunderstorm. The sky was obscured by thick, dark, clouds and the only illumination they received was courtesy of a flashing blaze of light, which was accompanied by a deafening roar of thunder. Alistair couldn't see the path ahead of him, the torrent of water blurred his vision, only numbly following the shadows of his companions. He wondered why Lenya insisted on marching in a storm like this. Did her Dalish ancestry somehow harden her against this sort of weather? Alistair could hardly imagine how one would be able to carry on in such miserable conditions.

He had no other choice but to follow, though the thought of avoiding further walking was becoming more and more appealing by the minute. The wind lashed rain into his face, obscuring his sight as he sought help but found none. All of his companions had their heads down and were fighting against the dreadful weather and plodded forward in order to follow their Dalish leader. Morrigan was the only one who dared to curse their situation from time to time, but her muttering was mostly ignored and lost in the cacophonous down-pouring of rain. Other than those minor signs of discomfort, Alistair was unable to pick up on further complaints.

He couldn't be the only one bothered by their wretched surroundings, could he?

Alistair groaned once again and sped up so that he could reach the head of the group. No easy feat when one was wet, cold, tired and...well...wet. In fact, the Warden had long forgotten what it felt like to be warm and dry. "Lenya!" He cried out. His voice was swallowed up by the howling wind. He shouted louder so as to ensure that he would be heard. "LENYA!" Finally, a reaction from the tenacious elven woman. She slowed her pace and looked up at him as if he were nothing.

"We should search for shelter," he hollered against the storm. "We can't walk in weather like this."

To his horror, the Dalish woman only shrugged. "You have told me that once we have left the mountains, the Gherlen pass and Orzammar are just a day's march away. I want to reach that." Her gaze lingered on his face for a moment, before she turned on her heel, effectively dismissing him.

Momentarily, Alistair didn't know what to say. Lenya never ceased to amaze him, and never in a good way. "Riiiight and you're willing to kill us all just to reach your goal? Wow."

Vexed, Lenya's head snapped back to glare at him. "You are the only one complaining so far." She looked around at the mute but agonized faces of her companions, and she recognized that what she'd said wasn't entirely true. The human was simply the first one to voice his concern. Sighing, the elf stopped and scanned the area for a suitable place to wait for the storm to pass. Unfortunately they were venturing through a narrow passage covered with withered, cracked stone, and therefore chances of finding shelter were slim.

"This isn't Orzammar, so why is It halting?" Shale inquired.

Instead of receiving a response from Lenya, Morrigan spoke up, her cape sopping wet and dripping with water. "Apparently we are finally taking a break from the sunny, beautiful day."

"G-good. I-it is t-too c-cold t-to g-go o-on," Leliana pressed forth through chattering teeth. Lenya was used to inclement weather, though the harsh, foreign cold of this area was hard for even her strong constitution. Begrudgingly, the Dalish had to admit that a break would be the most sensible thing to do.

Lenya slowly moved on, heedless of the harsh squall that tried to hinder her progress and the rivulets of freezing water streaming down her face. The elf came to an abrupt halt as she suddenly sighted a small cave on one of the mountain sides. She was unsure if it was safe or large enough to host the entire group, but it was better than nothing. Since the fabric of their tents was soaked through and therefore useless, the cave would have to suffice either way.

"Why are we stopping? It is just rain." Sten stared down at her, waiting for an explanation.

She simply shrugged in reply. "I know." Without further regard for the Qunari's opinion, Lenya wordlessly trudged toward the direction of the cave. The group behind her wavered for a moment, questioning her intent, but they soon recognized the unexpected shelter.

Alistair didn't put forth any effort in hiding his joy over the discovery. "Thank the Maker! Normally I'm not fond of stumbling into unknown, dark caves, but in this case I'll make an exception."

"It's just a cave, no need to thank your god for it." Lenya groaned. "I hope you're happy now."

"I won't be dying in the storm today, so yes, I'd say I'm pretty pleased." He followed his fellow Warden closely as they delved deeper into the cave band soon discovered it was much bigger than it had originally seemed. Behind him, the others followed and the interplay of thunderbolts and dimness continued, only to be accompanied by the howling of the wind and the lashing rain.

Alistair did his best to not fall over the strange, rocky things he had to climb over in order to follow Lenya, but his new, heavier armor made it difficult for him to coordinate his steps in the murky darkness. A few moments later he tripped over something and crashed down to the ground with a loud bang. "By Andraste's ass...ouch. It's just too dark to walk in here. And did I mention...ouch?"

Lenya let out an exasperated sigh. "Morrigan can you be of use here? You know like using your magic to lighten this cave up?"

"Just because that idiot is too stupid to walk in a straight line I'm expected to expend my energy?" The young witch muttered some curses under her breath, yet still gave in to the elf's wish. With a wave of her hand, a little white flame lit the dim, rocky walls of the cave. Soon everyone was able to see what had caused Alistair's fall. A pile of bones, both small and large.

"Lovely." Morrigan commented dryly at the find and raised one eyebrow.

Alistair collected himself from the ground as quickly as his armor permitted him. "No need to help me. Really, I'm fine."

"Indeed. I see no sense in helping it." Shale remarked and noted the odd demeanor of its companion from a distance, before its gaze shifted to the pile. "These are not the bones of birds; just more of those other fleshy creatures. What a pity."

Leliana's eyes grew wide. "Wait Lenya, does that mean you led us into an animal cave, of all things?"

"Animals tend to live in caves, you know," Lenya hissed back and glared at the human. "If you don't like this place, you don't have to stay here. I'm sure outside there is a wonderful spot just waiting for you, shem."

Something in Leliana suddenly snapped. The many weeks of being neglected by Lenya – although she had tried to connect with her many times – finally came to a head. "That is what you really want, isn't it? For me to leave?"

"Oh no, you give yourself too much credit. What I really want is less of your unwanted, ridiculous comments. So stay if you like, I truly don't care."

"As long, I'm useful, right?" The woman bitterly concluded.

"Exactly."

Ignoring her baffled reaction, Lenya waved her hand dismissively at the bard, signaling that the conversation had come to an end. The Dalish bent down to examine the bones on the ground closely. As a trained hunter it was easy for her to discern the prints in the dust and the origin of the bones. "These are animal bones, and based on the tracks, this is a bear den. Or rather, it was one. The tracks are old and far from fresh. We should be safe here for the time being."

"Good. I mean that is good, isn't it?" Alistair uttered, relieved. "Not having to hunt a bear on top of sitting in a smelly cave due to a nasty storm is a good thing, right?"

The elf shrugged. "Depends. A bear would have meant we'd have flesh to eat and fur for later use. At least this explains why the cave goes on even deeper in that direction, but the path becomes narrower." Lenya took one of the larger bones and threw it towards Arai's direction, who immediately caught it in mid air. The crunching sound of his massive jaws reverberated through the cave and the mabari happily retreated into a corner with his delicacy.

"Well at least the dog is happy," Alistair murmured. His eyes drifted to Leliana, who was still glowering at the elf. Leliana couldn't seem to deal with the bluntness of the Dalish woman and Alistair realized it was time for damage control. Again. With a sigh, the Warden positioned himself between the two women, though Lenya seemed to be calm. A fight was the last thing they would need right now while freezing to death. Still it was a huge risk to step between two vexed women, and he only hoped he wouldn't regret this action later.

"I wonder why I follow you," Leliana hissed over his shoulder in Lenya's direction, ignoring the fact that the ex-templar was blocking her view of the elf. "You don't seem a person worthy enough to be a leader, not to mention worthy of being a Grey Warden."

Anger seethed through Lenya's veins at her words, heating her cold skin from the inside. She turned to the bard, ignoring the big, stupid human in between them. "I wonder about that too, shem. You think being a Warden is an honor, huh? It's not like I volunteered for this 'oh so wonderful honor." Lenya managed to glare at her through a very helpless Alistair, and her voice trembled with undisguised hatred. "You think you are more worthy of the title? You want that 'honor'? You can have it. And all the death, fighting and nightmares too. I didn't want any of it. Ever."

And yet I'm still here...

The elf's shoulders rose and fell from her breathing while her eyes were locked onto Leliana's blue ones, before she suddenly turned and dashed out of the cave, into the storm. After a moment of shock, Alistair ran after her, but not before throwing Leliana a deprecating look before leaving.

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Silence ensued for a long time throughout the cave and was only disrupted by the sizzling of Morrigan's magical flame and the sound of the rain outside. In the meantime, Sten had gathered several wet wooden sticks in the middle of the cave. Normally it would be impossible to ignite such wet wood, but for a mage it was all too easy. Within seconds the wood crackled and burned and lit their temporary shelter in a warm yellow-red shine. With her task completed, Morrigan looked up to the dejected Chantry sister, disdain visible in her eyes. "Charming, you have not only chased one, but both Wardens away. It is not as though they are needed to fight the Blight – ...at least in Lenya's case. I hope you are happy now."

Sten nodded in agreement. "That fight was unneeded."

"I- I-...didn't know that," Leliana stuttered and sunk to the ground, her back leaning against the bare, cold stone. And it was true, she really hadn't wanted that to happen ...but after all she was also only human. After all those days and weeks of distrust and open hostility toward her, Lenya's most recent flouting comments had been the final straw. It had caused her to blurt out words and thoughts that she'd been carrying and that had bubbled under the surface for so long. Leliana rested her face in her hands and sighed. What she hadn't taken into consideration in her rage was how Lenya really felt about being a Grey Warden. She always thought that the elf didn't care about it and used the title to her advantage.

She'd been so wrong.

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---

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Alistair tried to follow the Dalish woman who was storming blindly away into the rushing rain. She was only a small figure in the distance anymore. He had to hurry or otherwise he would lose her, in more ways than one. "Wait Lenya! Where are you going? This weather is not conducive to–"

Suddenly she stopped, her head snapped back at him. "Leave me alone!" she roared, but her voice soon lost all of its vehemence. "Please."

He was taken aback by her small, wavering voice. It was so unlike her. "I-I...no. I can't do that. It's too dangerous for you to be alone out here." He groped her arm without thinking, as though he wanted to hinder her running away any further.

"Dangerous?" Lenya scoffed and glared at him. "You are just afraid of me running away and leaving you alone. That is your only concern."

For a moment, Alistair only looked at her and didn't know what to say. He felt caught. It was true that this was part of his fear, but only a part. He was genuinely worried about her being out in the cold, harsh weather of the Frostback mountains. The silence stretched and the rain poured in streams down her face, soaking her blonde hair. "See I'm right," she pressed through shivering lips, her breath still ragged. "...but if it soothes you, I'll come back, stupid human. Now let me go." Lenya tried to tug her arm free from Alistair's grip but he wouldn't let her go.

"No, as I said it's too dangerous out here. I'm sorry..." Alistair paused for a moment, looking at her pleadingly. "...I'm sorry that I shove the responsibility of leading on to you, but you are not alone. Just...just let me help you, okay?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Help me? If you want to help me then keep your friend at a distance...or next time I –"

"She isn't my friend. Well, at least not really. And I'm sure she regrets her harsh words by now. And, well..." he attempted a smile that quickly faded, "...it's not like you were friendly either. So why don't we return to where it's a bit warmer, drier and...well stinkier." She'd listened to his advice once before by purchasing a new full set of leather armor which she'd worn since their journey into the Frostbacks had started. He only hoped she would do the same this time as well.

"No. I can't go back now. Not when you value the life of that shem." Using his puzzlement to her advantage, she broke away from his hand and dashed further away into the rain. He just didn't understand. She simply needed to be alone for a moment, to calm down and sort through her thoughts. She wasn't running away from the overall task.

Not anymore.

It all happened so fast, Alistair couldn't do anything but stare after her retreating figure in the rain. He balled his hands into fists, cursing. She was such a stubborn woman, so sturdy that she would rather cope with this weather than return with him to the others...and Leliana. What could have he done differently? Throw her screaming and kicking over his shoulder and drag her back? Maybe, but he doubted that would have ended well. It would probably have made things worse.

Speaking of worse... he thought, and a severe shiver drove through him. If I keep standing here in the storm, I'll freeze to death. With one last look of regret, he turned around to retreat the cave. Perhaps the option of throwing her over his shoulder to drag her back would have ultimately been the better one.

Now he could only hope that she would keep her promise...and return. Alive.

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---

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"Where is it? Gone? So the clown knight is now the new leader?"

Even before Alistair had fully entered the shelter, he'd been stopped by the curious golem. Alistair sighed and gazed past it to the luring warm of the fireplace which was so near but at the same time so far away; especially with a massive golem blocking the way. And since the creature undoubtedly had no sense for hot, cold or other things important to humans, the Warden had no other choice but to answer lest he freeze on the spot.

"Let's just say, Shale, that she is taking a bit of a walk. Despite the ugly weather and all that. She will be back, though." I hope.

"So what will it do when it doesn't come back, hmm?"

"I will turn into a drooling lunatic, slaughter every darkspawn in sight and run through Orzammar in my small clothes, I guess," he snidely retorted, not willing to deal longer with its questions.

Shale stared at him for a second or two before it eventually answered. "Hmpf. Then I really hope the other Warden returns."

"So do I, Shale."

Finally the massive amount of rock moved aside and Alistair could step into the cave.

"Oh you are back. A pity, that." It took a moment for Morrigan to recognize that the elf wasn't with him. "...and you came alone, no less. I don't know which one of you idiots I should admire more. The one who chased her away in the first place, or the fool who failed to bring her back. I think both of you deserve praise after all. Well done." After a short pause that she glowered angrily at both of them, and Morrigan continued her snarling. "Why do we need her to fight the blight anyway? There are enough Grey Wardens in Ferelden aside her to fulfill this task. Oh wait...there are only two!"

"What should I have done, Morrigan? Drag her screaming and kicking back in here? She – "

"That would have been my choice," Sten interrupted him. "Her behavior in this time of war... is unwise." Disregarding the Warden for a possible answer, he returned to the fireplace and sat down in a corner where shadows enveloped his huge form again.

Leliana cast her eyes down to the ground. "I'm sorry. If I hadn't lost it before, this wouldn't have happened. At all."

Alistair turned to her, his voice calm."It has happened, and there is nothing you can do about it now. I know Lenya isn't the easiest person to deal with, but you must understand that she and I are in this together. We are the last Grey Wardens left in Ferelden, but I can't do this without her...and I won't."

"So if she doesn't return later..." Morrigan chipped in, "...does that mean you will sit down and do nothing? 'Tis a most wonderful plan."

He ignored the witch. "She will be back. She promised me that." Despite his assertive tone, he wasn't fully convinced. Finally, Alistair sat down near the fire and felt some warmth creep back to his system.

The red-headed woman did the same and took a place aside him. "I had no idea how Lenya regarded being a Warden. My words were unthinking, I suppose."

"Hmm," he nodded, his eyes fixed on the flames. His armor and clothes were all sodden from the rain, even the clothes that had been wet before were now...extra wet. So if it was not completely necessary, he didn't intend to move an inch from the warm place where he sat.

"You should know that – unlike me – Lenya didn't want to become a Warden in the first place. She was conscripted and dragged away from her clan. She really didn't have a choice in the matter because upon her arrival at Ostagar, she was already sick. Poisoned by the darkspawn taint." Alistair halted briefly, unsure of how much he should give away and decided to leave out any further details of Warden knowledge. "So the only possibility to save her own life and live on was to become a Grey Warden. As you may know we Wardens are immune to the taint, so since she sur– ...became one, her sickness is gone for good now."

"Oh, I see," Leliana was mildly shocked when she answered, and then fell silent. After Alistair's explanation, none of the companions spoke, they were all too occupied with their own thoughts. Alistair was no exception. He mulled over his words and was painfully reminded of things he didn't want to remember.

Ostagar...

It was still hard for Alistair to talk about it, or anything associated with it; though if explaining all of this to the bard had helped to create a somewhat better understanding for both of them, he would gladly cope with the grief.

Another roll of thunder rumbled and startled him. He hated thunderstorms and always had. The thought of his fellow Warden being out there alone drove him crazy with doubts and uncalled guilt, but that wasn't the only reason for his hatred of the weather – there was yet another. The last time there had been a thunderstorm was at Ostagar as the darkspawn attacked. At that time Alistair had believed in Loghain and his plan. Now he knew better. The Teyrn was nothing more than a treacherous, power-hungry bastard, but for the hundreds of men who died that day, this knowledge came far too late.

People who were important to him were among those men.

Duncan...

"Everything okay?" Leliana's voice shook him out of his grim thoughts and the seething wrath that wanted to bubble up again. Like the thunder, it tore apart the long lasting silence and startled him.

"Y-Yes. The weather, let's just say...it is associated with some not so fond memories."

She tilted her head. "Want to talk about it?"

He weighed this option, yet decided against it. Enough self-torturing for today. His gaze fell pass Leliana to the entrance of their cave, noticing that Shale stood there like an observing, rigid statue in the rain. Maybe it was just his imagination but it looked as though the golem was waiting for Lenya as well. Speaking of which ...when would she be back?

Don't leave me alone with this. Please.

"Alistair?"

He blinked and his attention snapped back to his companion. "Err...yes. I mean no, thank you. What do you think will happen to all those people we left behind in Lothering?"

Temporarily, Leliana was confused over the sudden change of topic. "Huh? Uhm, I suppose some of them will find their way to Denerim. Many will die. As the Maker wills."

"The Maker?" Alistair just wanted a diversion from the thoughts that haunted him, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You can't say that this is the Maker's will, to leave those people to be darkspawn fodder! That's just not right."

"When we fail to stop the Blight, many will follow. Probably everyone will die then." The Warden swallowed audibly at her words but remained silent. Oh no pressure, really.

"We are serving a greater good, both –"

"That is the greater good?" he interrupted her, disbelieving. "To leave people behind to die? I felt bad about that. They were all so helpless and despaired."

"It's not as though I like the notion of leaving them behind, but you can't save everyone, Alistair." Leliana shook her head. "You will need to steel yourself, the things ahead of us will probably be even worse than this. You know that."

Alistair paused to let her words sink in. They were somewhat harsh ...but at the same time also true, and he was aware of that. The young Warden just doubted that he could ever be like that, and he let her knew it. "I've never been very good with steeling myself. I find it better to be just a little weak. Really."

Leliana looked at him without answering, but her eyes alone told him what she was thinking. You won't have a choice in that matter, Alistair.

And he feared that she would be right with it.

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---

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.

An hour or more passed quietly, in direct contrast to the mounting tension inside the cave. Lenya still hadn't returned. The storm had abated but dusk was slowly giving way to night. Alistair paced the length of the cave, and as he moved, his eyes were glued to the entrance of the cave. A myriad of thoughts were rushing through his mind, mixed with feelings of anxiety and anger. How could she run away? It was such a stupid, irresponsible thing to do. There were no darkspawn here in this area...but wild animals were a definite threat. She could handle wild animals, right?

"Argh. Sit down, fool. You are driving me insane," Morrigan groused and shot him a glare. She was unsure of what to do herself and she surely didn't want to end up with Alistair being the only Warden. To occupy herself, the witch renewed the already dying fire with one of her magical flames. It immediately flared, and for a moment its light drove the looming darkness back.

Alistair paid no attention to the fire, nor to the witch. Instead, he continued his nervous routine.

Morrigan sighed and gave up. With that twit, every effort was wasted. She cracked another stick in two, threw the pieces into the fire and watched them hiss away. If the elf was smart she would seize this chance and travel further north to find her clan and leave Ferelden to rot. The sorceress would do the same in her place, after all. Oddly enough, a bigger part of Morrigan wanted Lenya to return. All in all, she was far better company than the idiot of a Warden pacing in front of her. For a brief moment, her eyes wandered to the entrance as well.

Much to her exasperation, her eye movement wasn't undetected. Leliana suddenly smiled at her. "You are worried too Morrigan, aren't you?"

Was that redheaded simpleton watching her? The thought was disturbing. Despite her irritation, Morrigan remained composed, issuing a single scoff. "What? Is that an attempt at conversation with me, Chantry sister? If so, keep your gratuitous attempts to yourself. I am not interest –" She stopped, her eyes darting back to the entrance.

"Look who honors us with her presence again. 'Tis most considerate that you returned, elf." Enveloped in shadows, the sopping wet Dalish woman stood before them and was breathing heavily. Various tracks of water coated the angles of her face and trickled down the hollow of her throat.

"Lenya!" Alistair's body was moving of its own accord and before he realized what he was doing, he had enfolded her in an embrace. She was cold, so cold and wet to the bones but still alive.

I'm not alone...

For a second or two, Lenya couldn't figure out what was happening. She had returned to where they were camping after a few hours – that much was obvious- but why was he...embracing her...

Embracing...

Something clicked into place in her mind and with lightening fast reflexes she reached for her dagger and pressed it to his back. "Back off now or else –" she hissed.

It was something Alistair didn't need to hear twice; especially not after it had been voiced in such a threatening manner. He immediately flinched away, embarrassed by his impulsive act. "I...err...uhh. Sorry?" If there had been a hole nearby, Alistair would have gladly seized it to hide within. What was he thinking? He probably wasn't thinking at all... otherwise he wouldn't have embraced Lenya – still, he was just so glad to see her alive and well, that he...- Alistair flushed.

Oh please where is a hole when you need one?

Lenya glared at him a moment longer before her shell-shocked posture slowly subsided. "Stupid human, I said I would be back, didn't I?" She tried to suppress her trembling, but failed miserably. Unfortunately, she had overestimated her immunity to the weather conditions, which were indeed different here, so harsh...and frigid.

"Err... yes?" It was more a question than an answer. Alistair avoided looking into her face, trying to hide the various shades of red he had adopted.

Awkward.

"It is still alive, I see. No running around in smallclothes for the clown knight. Good," Shale concluded with a satisfied nod and turned away again.

And it became even more awkward due to the big-mouthed golem. Wonderful. At least he now knew the real reason the creature had been standing so adamantly in the rain, but that was only a small consolation. It took a few moments before he actually found his voice again and the courage to look at Lenya. "I mean yes, you did promise. Still how could you run away blindly in the first place? In weather like that? Are you insane?"

Between the trembling, Lenya pressed out a sigh. "I've returned as I said I would. I don't see what the problem is."

Exasperated by her indifference, his tone became slightly louder. "The problem is that you could have died out there– " he stopped as his gaze fell beside her, a package of fur and flesh lay at her feet. "Mountain hare?" He pointed at the three dead animals. "I didn't even know that such things existed out here."

"An evening meal. It took quite some time for me to catch them but – " Lenya halted and left the sentence unfinished. "Forget it."

Alistair blinked. Lenya was probably the only person he had ever met who was able to hunt edible animals in such harsh environments. He was impressed...and surprised. "That was the reason you took so long?"

"If you don't want to eat it...I'll gladly take your share." The elven woman did her best to appear nonchalant as she shrugged in an effort to hide the fact that he had been right in his guess. Damn that nosy human...

"Oh no, that's not what I meant. It was just...unexpected..."

Lenya inched a bit closer to the warmth of the flames without paying attention to anyone else other than Alistair. "You expected me to be away for that long," she pointed at Leliana," ...just because of what that shem said? Really?" Hunting always had helped always helped her to calm her nerves and focus her scattered thoughts, but the elf kept this bit of information to herself. Humans would never understand the Dalish ways and Lenya knew better than to try and explain.

She took another step in the direction of the luring warmth of the fire, which caused Leliana to speak, since the elf was close by. "For what it's worth, Lenya, I'm sorry for my words earlier. They were harsh and unthinking." Lenya glanced at her for a moment and nodded.

Her eyes wandered to her fellow Warden once again, noticing in horror that he had already started to skin the hare with his dagger. Immediately Lenya jumped up. "Wait!" she exclaimed and Alistair froze on the spot.

"The fool will only turn this bounty into inedible charcoal, like always." Morrigan stated with a nod, receiving a groan from Alistair in return.

She moved closer to Alistair. "No, that is not what I meant." Lenya wavered for a moment and regretted her unthinking motion. She hadn't thought about it in that moment, it was simply so deeply ingrained in her consciousness that she just reacted. Though there was no way they would understand it...

Alistair searched her eyes, wondering what her reaction was all about. "Lenya?"

"Err, well...there is something I have to do."

Now he was confused. "You want to cook?"

"N-no. There is something I have to do before you roast them..." A mixture of uneasiness and frustration toiled within her. Why had she started explaining in the first place? And in front of a shem, of all things! Though there was no way she would turn back now. She needed to do this.

His lips quirked up into a slight, teasing smirk. "What? Say goodbye to the family of hares? A little late, th –" Her glowering silenced him in a flash, his eyes instantly averted from hers.

The woman could be really scary.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Lenya bend down to the dead animals, her eyes closed. She started to murmur what sounded like a prayer, but her words were so hushed that he had to stop breathing to discern what she was saying.

"Hear me sons and daughters of the People-" he heard her cant softly "...I am Sister of the Moon, Mother of Hares, Lady of the Hunt: Andruil." The verses captivated him, exactly why, Alistair couldn't say. He was only aware that he was watching her, and her expression was at peace as she prayed. Her countenance was one that he had never seen on her before. He didn't dare move for fear of disrupting this peace she'd established and was content to simply observe her ritual. All the while his eyes were fixed to the fine lines of her face, and he wondered idly why he was unable to look away.

"Vir Adahlen: the Way of the Wood. Receive the gifts of the hunt with mindfulness." Lenya continued. "Respect the sacrifice of my children. Know that your passing shall nourish them in turn. That is my Way."

With a tiny nod the Dalish stood upright and wordlessly returned to the fire, ignoring the many pairs of eyes watching her. She unsheathed her sword, unpacked the little whet stone from her pack and started to sharpen the blade with it.

Scrape, scrape, scrape.

Like everyone else, Alistair stared after her for a time until he managed to shake off a feeling within himself that he couldn't exactly identify. She had surprised him by caring so deeply for the animals she had killed for food. Was it a Dalish tradition? As he continued to tear the white fur from the hares, he decided to ask. "The verses you recited just now, were they a Dalish prayer?"

Scrape, scrape, scrape.

The only answer was the sound of stone meeting steel.

His first impulse to sigh, but it quickly turned into a faint smile. This was more like the Lenya he knew. Alistair continued to gut the animals and cleaned them. When he was finished, the Warden returned to the fireplace and put all three of them on a makeshift spit. He couldn't help but to look over at her as he did so, noticing how the droplets of water were still running down her wet hair to her face. She didn't seem to be bothered by it in the slightest, she instead focused on sharpening her sword.

Lenya noticed the unwanted attention and tried to ignore it, but failed. She stopped her work for a moment and looked up at him. "You heard me saying it, didn't you puppy? So stop asking such silly questions. It's not like you would understand, anyway."

"Hmm, maybe so," he nodded, then added "...but I would like to, Lenya..." Alistair put the animals over the fire and soon the cave was filled with a mouthwatering scent. Oh, how he missed actual food after having to ingest the dried out travel sludge all of the time.

Scrape, scrape, scrape.

Lenya didn't reply, for her the conversation was over. She still had to sharpen her blade, the one she had received in Ostagar just a couple of weeks ago. She scrutinized the sword and scowled. Along the blade several parts had already chipped and there were various scratches, despite her careful treatment. "This is useless." Suddenly Lenya hauled out and smashed it against the nearest wall, where it fell onto the ground with a resounding clattering.

"Oh, swords are flying low today, so I suppose the weather will be better tomorrow," Alistair commented dryly at her outburst, while he focused on the food over the fire.

Sten glowered down at the elf. "You should treat your sword with more respect."

"I would, if it wasn't a useless fork made by humans."

Sten nodded. "This I can understand."

"Well in that case, Lenya," Leliana chipped in, "you'll love Orzammar. The dwarves are famous for their smith work. They make excellent swords."

"But in order to do that, Chantry sister, we have to reach Orzammar first. Fat chance."

"Are we a rolling ball of sunshine again, Morrigan?" Alistair inquired, and then shrugged. "Why should I care anyway when the food is ready? But if it soothes your bitchy mind, Orzammar isn't far away. We should reach it by tomorrow. Unless," he glanced over to Lenya and grinned. "...you want to explore the neighborhood a little more."

"Shut up!" The Dalish woman growled in annoyance, which only broadened the grin gracing Alistair's features.

It was good to have her back.

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Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of the OEaH -- The Journey Of Lenya Mahariel series »