Dragon Age 1. A Different Path

**A/N**: Hey, this is the second time I've written this Author's note! As of August 2011, I am rewriting this story from the start, and (hopefully) I'll manage to finish the rewriting process. If I do, I'll post up a final chapter at the end to simply confirm that all chapters that need rewriting have been done so, and some may only need a few tweaks here and there. You'll know the rewritten chapter's because I'll say 'rewritten' at the beginning of each one, but due to the length of these chapters and my other stories that need rewriting, there'll probably be one re-written chapter a week. At best. Also to note; at the time I posted this originally, this was the first story with Tamlen surviving the initial cave-meeting and leaving the clan _with _Mahariel. The plotline is pretty much Tamlen _as _a Grey Warden with Mahariel. She finds him in the cave and they both go with Duncan. Lina's part at the beginning is rushed and repeatedly saying 'and' because it's reflecting her hectic thoughts to try and find Tamlen whilst simultaneously struggling with the dark feelings that the taint is imposing on her. It won't be in this tense in the later chapters, too. Reviews to the re-written chapters are appreciated, as always!

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_Lina Mahariel_

They're sighing heavily. One of them is crying, wiping tears from bright eyes, and another one of them is panting from his exhaustion as he follows her. Lina Mahariel is gasping for breath, an unfamiliar darkness coursing through her body despite Marethari's claims that it's _gone_. Merrill sniffles in the warm humidity of the cave, and although Lina would like to think she's crying out of concern for her clanmate, she knows that it's from the gas trap that the mage set off _again _in the middle of the ruins. Fenarel switches his blade for his bow, no longer content with charging directly into the fray of darkspawn whilst he's so exhausted. They can only travel deeper into the ruin, a dark shadow bearing up inside Lina and drawing her to the shadows; it comes along with a vicious, uncharacteristic urge to turn around and tear the throats from her friends.

Lina wonders just _how quickly _they'd be able to kill her if she attacked them, and with an inward gasp of horror she berates herself for thinking such a thing; these are her _friends_, and although she'd never been as close to them as she had been Tamlen, it's no excuse for her thoughts. In an attempt to block out these thoughts, Lina focuses on her heavy breaths and completely ignores Merrill's call for her to _slow down_. Lina refuses to; Tamlen lies in these ruins somewhere, and she'll readily face a thousand darkspawn whilst unarmed rather than hesitate for a split second and lose the dark pull that is drawing her towards the room with the mirror.

Funny, she thinks sarcastically, how all hell breaks lose because of a _mirror, _and despite that she'll run back there anyway. Tamlen is alive, she's certain of it –she swears she can _feel _him- and even if he is dead, she'll not leave without a body.

They reach the mirror room quickly, Lina stopping and finding Merrill and Fenarel tumbling towards her with a barrage of curses, startled by her sudden stop. There's a shem standing before the mirror, but Merrill introduces him as her saviour before Lina can impale him with one of her Dar'Misu's. The human rambles and _rambles _about how Tamlen can't possibly still be alive, that destroying the mirror is the only way to stop the taint that's starting to take over the ruin. (And _why _does she feel a feral snarl well up inside of her at that? This taint, it's still within her, leading her to the room where Tamlen should be, but she can't _see _him!)

Merrill and Fenarel go to grab her arms when her heels squeak on the blood-ridden floor as Lina tries to flee towards the back of the room, but she's feeling herself being pulled there, and it _must _be where Tamlen is, else she'd feel fine. A string of utterly _foul _elven curses stream from her lips as she struggles, and with her left hand she grabs for the skinning dagger in her belt and lodges it into Fenarel's forearm, a dark instinct taking over and willing her to leap towards the slowly-backing-away Merrill. Lina ignores it, as Fenarel goes to grab her again despite his wound, and she has to _escape _that grasp in order to keep her hold on the pull that seems to be slowly leaving her. She has to _find _the tainted presence on the other side of this pull, and she knows it's no darkspawn since Duncan has killed them _all_.

Duncan steps towards her with an aura of annoyance, and Lina gives in to the strange, dark cord attached to her body. Her heels squeak again on blood-spattered marble, and she finds herself jumping through the frame that once held the godforsaken mirror, over the Bereskarn body and down the tunnel that has been carved into the ruins.

She's running right past the corpses, nearly trips twice on her way down, and finally she's skidding to a halt in front of thick, unruly vines. She doesn't even need to spare a glance to know that they're too thick for her to cut through, so she tries to climb up near the top and slip through the thin gaps. Despair tugs at her when she feels Duncan's arms around her waist, tugging her down whilst shouting at her about there being no hope for her friend.

(But he's so much _more _than that, even if she'd never told a soul. She refuses to be the one left alone for her life; the one everyone looks at like she's a widow, with filthy looks of pity in their eyes, all because the one she wanted had disappeared.)

The thought makes her head hang, and it is that which makes her look down. She gives a cry of relief when her eyes lock with a messy mop of dirty-blond hair and the frail body of her clanmate. Duncan notices it too, and without a second thought he drops her from where she's clinging to the upper vines, leaving her to fall unceremoniously to the floor. Pushing their arms through the vines, they both try to manoeuvre Tamlen into a position where they can pull him through. Fenarel pitches in with his sword, hacking at the vines, whilst Merrill freezes them in turn so they're easier to shatter. It works, and Lina watches as Duncan leans into the gap they've made, slips one arm under the elf's knees and one under his back, and lifts him up.

For a moment, they simply stare. Lina is nearly buckling at the torrent of emotions running through her; anger, annoyance, worry, despair, heart-stopping _fear_. She wants to both hit him and hold him, never let him go again because three –nearly _four_- days without him seems terrible when they've never spent more than six hours apart in the last ten years. They still share the tent that they've had since Lina was four and he five, much to the disapproving minds of the elders of their clan. (But nothing _happens_ in that tent, they're still simply the best of friends and nothing more, and _creators _does it annoy her.)

For a moment, a dreadful moment, Lina wonders if they've found only the body of her friend. The same thought is running through the minds of Fenarel and Merrill, but all doubt is erased when Tamlen gives a weak moan of pain, half-conscious but _alive_.

Lina leads the way out, a triumphant smile on her face despite the worry boiling within her.

* * *

She'd been waiting outside the tent for _three whole days_. Duncan had watched her with interest for those three days, contemplating the likelihood that anyone should still be able to walk after six days of being tainted. He's been interested in Tamlen too; Mahariel had been treated by a powerful keeper almost immediately, and Tamlen had not, yet he was still alive _somehow_. Duncan's eyes switch to Lina when she all but springs up from her stool, and it is not hard to miss exactly what it is that has caught her interest.

Tamlen emerges from the tent they share, looking ill, thin, horrible, messed up and not at _all _happy. He looks worse than Mahariel does now, but he steps into her hurried embrace and simply sighs, thankful for the fact that he's alive and able to wrap his arms around her. It doesn't surprise him that she's the only reason he was even found; he'll be having words with Merrill and Fenarel about their eagerness to leave the ruin whilst he was still in there. Marethari steps from the tent behind Tamlen, looking even worse than Tamlen and equally as exhausted as Mahariel, but it doesn't overpower her relief at managing to save two of the clan's hunters and children. Granted, all three of them feel as if they're standing on Falon'Din's doorstep.

"Easy, I'm fine." Tamlen mutters to his clanmate as she all but breaks his ribs in a hug, although the cough that follows is a contradiction. He sounds raspy, but Lina ignores it as she pulls away from him, stands at a respectable distance and watches as Marethari and Duncan move to discuss a permanent cure for the both of them. Lina only smiles at the muttered "thank you" that comes from Tamlen, refusing to acknowledge it as she knows how hard it is for Tamlen to say so. He didn't even _need _to say it aloud; she'd heard it loud and clear in his embrace. Instead, he follows as she leads the way to a beckoning Marethari.

"We have been discussing your cure. You will not like it." Marethari is blunt, a sad look in her orbs as she locks eyes with Lina's midnight blue irises and sees the dark shadow of the taint still inside her Da'len. Duncan takes over.

"My order is in need of help, and you two are in desperate need of a cure. You have both proven to be somewhat resistant to the taint, and I am certain that if you agree to become Grey Wardens, my order will gain two well-trained recruits, and you will be cured. If you stay, the taint will sicken and kill you, or worse."

It's the '_or worse_' that sways Mahariel's mind.

"So… We need to become Grey Wardens?" Lina asks. Marethari nods sadly, and Duncan shifts his footing, crosses his arms and gives them both an evaluating look that makes Lina feel as if he can read her like an open book.

"No, absolutely not." Tamlen answers sharply before Lina can even utter a syllable. He protectively takes hold of her upper arm as if to make a point, but it's mainly because of the fact that he knows her mind and her answer that he does so.

"Is the clan actively sending us away? This is our home, our family." Lina asks quietly, but Duncan answers the question that was meant for Marethari.

"I cannot express my sadness at sending one of our sons, and one of our daughters, off into such danger, but if this is what the Creators intend for you, then meet your destinies with your heads held high. No matter where you go, you two are Dalish. Never forget that." Lina nods at the wise words, Tamlen shakes his head despite the dizziness, and Duncan sighs.

"Very well, Duncan. I am honoured that you would pick me to help your order." The human smiles at Lina, and gives her a bow.

"I am glad that you have agreed. It has been a while since a Dalish has joined the Grey Wardens, but they have always carried out their duties with immense skill and respect." The man then looks to Tamlen for his answer, but the dirty-blond elf is looking at Lina as though she's sprouted an extra head.

"_What?_ Lina, this is our home! You're prepared to leave it, just like that, because of the word of a _shem_?"

"Tamlen, think about it; if we don't go, we will _die_. No question about it; I can feel the taint inside me, and I know you can feel it inside you too. Don't make me drag you along with us." At those words, Tamlen cocks an eyebrow at her, closes his eyes for a moment, and then lets lose a sigh.

"I always said you'd end up like a damn flat-ear. Very well, I will go with you, but only because you wish it so. Under any other terms, I'd rather die a Dalish." Marethari and Lina both smile at him for this, before the former puts her hands on his shoulder.

"Come then, Da'lens. Before the creators guide you from us, let your clan embrace you once last time."


	2. Ostagar

**A/N**: Hey, here's the next **rewritten **chapter, enjoy, not too many differences in this one, apart from a major fixing of the jagged tense changes that were there originally.

* * *

"Come on!"

"No." Firm, resolute.

"Bite your tongue, and swallow your pride, please. I'm as uneasy as you are, and I want to go back to the clan too, but we can't! Please, come on."

"No!"

Lina clenched her fists at Tamlen's refusal to enter the camp at Ostagar. He had already brushed off the King rather rudely, (she had only stayed silent through the introduction), had attempted to run three times on the way to Ostagar, had been anything but civil to Duncan and was now refusing, point blank, to cross the bridge.

"Fine then, stay here, starve, grow weak and _die _because you can't swallow your pride. There are so many humans here, Tamlen, you'll feel uneasy and swarmed soon enough, and then we'll see how much you'll wish you had come with me when I asked. Remember what happened the last time you didn't _listen _to me?" It was a low blow, but it gave Tamlen a moment to actually think on the matter; Lina refrained from grabbing his ear and dragging him. She only raised an eyebrow at him in defeat and crossed the bridge at a fast pace.

She looked behind only once, with a small smirk on her lips at the look of hesitation on Tamlen's face. The dirty-blond elf shook his head as he locked eyes with her, before jogging to catch up with her in the middle of the bridge with a look of annoyance etched across his features.

"Very well, I'll let you have this one. But if a shem so much as even _looks _at us the wrong way, I'll-"

"Drive an arrow through their heart? Come now, Tamlen, squish your hatred for the time being and let us find this Alistair before you can start a fight. No talking." Lina gave him a nod, and proceeded to lead him through the camp, ignoring his moans of how he felt uncomfortable around so many humans. She had to admit, she too felt uncomfortable and on edge, but for the sake of them both she kept quiet and only came to a halt at the argument before them.

"Fine, I will speak to the woman if I must. Get out of my way, fool!" The human mage pushed past the both of them, earning a growl from Tamlen and an angry sigh from Lina. She rolled her eyes, and walked towards the blond man who was slowly making their way towards them.

"You know, one good thing about the blight is how it brings people together." Lina narrowed her eyes in confusion, shifting her footing whilst Tamlen merely watched with shifting eyes.

"I- what? You're a strange human." The words were out of her lips before she could stop them, although the human gave only a bark of a laugh.

"You're not the first to tell me that. You don't happen to be more mages, do you?" He asked them, voice light but with an underlying tone of cautiousness. Tamlen shook his head, and Lina motioned to the bow strapped to her back to signify she wasn't. The human visibly relaxed. "Less being yelled at for me then! Although the day is still young." He shrugged half heartedly, before taking in their appearances.

"You must be Alistair." Lina spoke slowly, uncomfortable under his somewhat calculating gaze. It didn't seem to fit right on his face, almost as though he were copying something he assumed Duncan would do.

"And you two must be Duncan's newest recruits. I should have recognised you both right away, I apologise." Tamlen cocked his head to the side at that, confused at the statement.

"How could you have recognised us?"

"Not many elves walking around here, and even fewer with Dalish tattoos. Besides, Duncan sent word ahead that he had gathered two recruits. As the junior member of the order I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the joining." Lina and Tamlen nodded at that, but Tamlen stepped forward, less wary of Alistair. He was only half a step in front of Lina now.

"Pleased to meet you…" Lina started, unsure if she was introducing herself as a human would. "My name is Lina, and this is Tamlen. We are from the Sabrae clan."

"Right, those were the names. Any last names?" At the question, Tamlen gave a smirk and crossed his arms.

"You couldn't pronounce mine, but you might be able to pronounce Lina's."

"I'd rather not make a fool of myself. You know, it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens. I wonder why that is." Alistair mused aloud, and although the question didn't need answering, Lina answered anyway.

"We're too smart for you."

"Then what does that make you?" Alistair quipped, a small smirk on his face which made Lina wonder if he'd spent hours thinking up a joke such as that.

"Extremely unlucky." Tamlen answers under his breath, voice dark and quiet and making Lina give a hiss of a laugh.

"_Ouch_. So I'm curious, have you two ever actually encountered darkspawn?"

"Take a guess. We're blotchy, bruised, terribly thin and, according to Duncan, stinking of darkspawn." Lina choked out, her throat suddenly closing up. Alistair looked surprised her words, giving them both the once-over again before shrugging. Lina doesn't notice it; swallowing suddenly feels like sand-covered parchment is rubbing against the inside of her throat.

"I had noticed, but I'd wondered if it was my imagination, especially the scent. My mind likes to play tricks on me, the sly fox it is. Are you siblings?" Lina wanted to ask him to stop asking so many questions, but held her tongue so as to not make an idiot of herself. That, and she'd told Tamlen not to argue; she'd be a hypocrite if she started an argument now, and she wasn't entirely sure of human conduct _just _yet.

"We just told you we have different last names; if that's the case, how could we be siblings?" Tamlen answered, his voice filling with a tint of annoyance. Alistair shrugged.

"I don't know, you could have separate fathers, or something to that effect. Just good friends then? Anyhow, when you're both ready, let us get back to Duncan. I imagine he's eager to get things started. If you have any questions, let me know. Otherwise, lead on." Alistair fell into a step behind them both, and followed them to the area where Duncan was waiting.

"I don't like him…" Tamlen muttered under his breath, loud enough only for his clanmate to hear. The bright blonde elf merely shook her head at him before speaking.

"I think he's somewhat nice for a shem, if a little awkward." She motioned with her head towards Alistair, who had become distracted with petting a Mabari gently on its stout head.

"Oh you _would _find him nice. Not at all intruding. Remember when I said you'd end up a flat ear? I take that back; you'll end up like one of those elves who mate with humans and have little brat-" He shut up at the glazed-over look that appeared in her eyes, which was quickly accompanied with a dark, feral look that he knew was present only because of the taint that crawled through her veins. Duncan had warned him that she'd be more susceptible to changing into something worse, because the taint affected women much more differently than it did men.

With a worried grin, he ignored her angry rant and simply followed her to Duncan.

* * *

"Creators, you've killed her, haven't you? I hope for your sake that she wakes up." Tamlen's worried and angry voice sliced through the terrifying roar of a dragon that swam through her mind, and the face of the beast burned behind her eyelids as she winced.

"Shh, she's stirring." Another voice cut through the echoing roar, most certainly the voice of a man although she couldn't quite tell if it was Alistair's or Duncan's. The burning image of the dragon let lose another fearsome roar, and when the echo finally dissipated, her midnight eyes snapped open. She flinched when she noticed Tamlen, Alistair and Duncan leaning over her, far too close for comfort.

"Urgh, why do I prefer the image of the dragon to you three?" Lina joked as she sat up, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms to be rid of the gritty feeling beneath her eyelids. Her eyes felt as though someone had filled her eyes with sand whilst she was unconscious. Tamlen grimaced, holding out his hand for her to take it. Lina took it carefully, wincing as every bone in her body protested at her movement.

"How do you feel?" Duncan asked her, watching as she stumbled a little to the left as she tried to properly straighten up and wipe the dust from the floor off her waist. It was at times like this that she hated the female version of her clan's armour.

"Fine? That was certainly…draining." Lina pinched the bridge of her nose before shaking her head slightly to clear her thoughts. She didn't hear much of Duncan talking to her about nightmares and dreams that came with being a Grey Warden, for she became aware that two of the leather strips that made up the skirt of her armour had folded in under, revealing much more of her thigh than she was comfortable with. She hoped Tamlen was listening, despite how unlikely that was.

"When you're ready, the King has requested you both attend a meeting. Meet us there as soon as you are able." Lina nodded, kneeling down for a moment to pick up her pack from where it had fallen, and then looked through it quickly.

"I just need to do something… where is it?" Tamlen stayed next to Lina as she rooted through her pack, searching for the white flower she had collected from the wilds. Finding it with a cry of victory, she nodded to Tamlen and the two made a quick side trip towards the kennels near the main fire.

"What do you think this meeting is about?" Tamlen asked her, taking his shield from his back and taking care not to knock his bow off. Lina shrugged.

"The easiest way to assassinate every elf in this camp."

"Don't lie."

"And here I thought that, with your paranoia, you'd believe me. Probably some sort of strategy to fight the darkspawn, but I'm no expert on human tactics _or _a mind reader, so I don't know." Lina made her way up to the Kennel Master, flowers in hand, and she gave him a sweet smile as he thanked her. Tamlen wondered why she wasn't born a human politician, the way she managed to con a few silvers from the man _as well as _the confirmation that the ill Mabari in question _could _be tried to imprint with her after the battle.

* * *

Shocked was an understatement.

Lina was utterly _stunned_. She had absolutely no recollection of how she'd ended up lying in a bed that was not her own, nor how she had ended up in her undergarments in a _house_ that she didn't recognise. Books, staves and jars of _something _were scattered along shelves and counters and, with her back to Lina, a human woman was sat simply in a chair. She was flipping through a book, but moved at the sound of Lina shifting and snapped the book shut. The woman –dark haired and somehow familiar- placed it onto a shelf, covered the shelf with a sheet and then turned to face Lina with a cruel smirk.

It was that smirk that helped Lina to place her as the girl from the wilds.

"Ah, your eyes finally open. Mother shall be pleased." Lina sat up in the bed abruptly, and tried to ignore the pain that reverberated around her ribs. The dark haired girl moved to help her up, albeit grudgingly, and explained what she could as she helped Lina into her armour. After ten minutes of fiddling with a particularly annoying armour clasp, Morrigan gave a sigh of defeat and let Lina attempt to reach round to tie it herself.

"Were my injuries severe?"

"In truth? You made the other two look like crying children, the way they were going on. Although you were unconscious. I would suggest a better choice of armour for yourself. The suspicious dim-witted one broke his arm and cracked his skull, and the elf broke an arm and a leg. Yu cracked your skull, broke your left arm, shattered your knee and broke two ribs. But it was nothing Mother could not heal." Morrigan spoke with a matter-of-fact tone in her voice, as though she were commenting on the weather for the seventh time in an hour. She continued to tell her about the death of the King only because Lina pressed her too, and the blonde was left sitting in a stunned silence for several minutes before she could speak.

"Thank you for helping me, Morrigan. I guess I'll go speak to your mother now." Lina felt oddly comfortable talking to this human; she put it down to Morrigan not having lived in a human society like herself, and thus the worries of acceptable conduct did not apply. Lina ignored the witch's words on making something to eat, and left quickly through the hut's only door. The sunlight hitting her eyes made her squint as she closed the door behind her.

"See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, boys." Tamlen had already moved from the fire by the time that Alistair had registered what Flemeth had said. He stopped a few feet in front of her, eyeing her carefully and making note of the bruises that still littered her, as well as a small bandage wrapped around her ribs. Lina squirmed, distracting him with a grin.

"Don't fling yourself at a dying ogre again; do you _have _a death wish?" Tamlen inquired, voice loud as Lina shrugged.

"Consider it revenge for getting me so worried in the cave." Lina muttered, wincing when Tamlen embraced her tightly. She hissed in pain (Creators, had he just re-broken her ribs?) and snapped her eyes up to settle on Alistair.

"We thought you were dead for sure…" His voice was barely above a whisper, as if he thought that speaking any louder would shatter her in front of their eyes.

"I'm fine, although I appreciate your concern." Lina rubbed at her eyes once she had moved closer to Flemeth, and merely sat down on a log and mentally assessed her wounds. She didn't register Tamlen and Alistair talking about the treaties or the Dalish; her clanmate would update her on it later, she was sure. Midnight eyes observed the sun reflecting off the water, glistening and shining and _peaceful_ despite the habitual fall into chaos that the country around it was falling into. Lina wondered just how many wars had occurred around the swampy water, shining without any right to as blood was spilt near it. She was broken from her thoughts only when Flemeth all but ordered Morrigan to go with them. Silence fell as Morrigan left to collect her things, which turned out to be only a staff and a pack full of little oddities and herbs.

"I suggest a village a small distance to the north from here. Or, if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide." Lina crossed her arms and raised her brow at Morrigan, all the while silently cursing the two men behind her for putting her in charge as she'd been thinking.

"No, no. I prefer you speak your mind. Creators know that at least someone has to." Lina sent a glare behind her at Tamlen and Alistair, both of who gave her a smile. Alistair went a step further and gave her a sarcastic wave. Flemeth laughed sharply, shaking her head in amusement.

"You will regret saying that."

And despite the scathing look that Morrigan sent her mother, Lina had a feeling that perhaps she wouldn't regret it.


	3. Duster

**A/N**: This chapter has been rewritten!

* * *

Lina kicked a cobblestone on the road off to the side absent-mindedly, watching the dust rise as she tried to ignore the bickering Alistair and Morrigan behind her as they discussed the woman's likeness to her mother. It was ridiculous, really; Alistair simply couldn't stop rising to the bait that Morrigan lay out for him, and it was starting to annoy even her. Lina frowned, looking away from the two humans and casting her gaze out to the surrounding forests and the retreating Kocari Wilds. She wondered where her clan would be now, whether they had left Ferelden or had simply moved into the Hinterlands.

Lina missed them terribly, feeling a hollow ache inside her whenever she thought of them. If it weren't for Tamlen being with her, Lina knew that it would have been almost impossible to cope with the foreignness of everything around her. She missed the carelessness and freedom that she had in her everyday clan life, and _creators _did she miss the hunt. Never before had her bow felt heavy, but now the weight of the light, hardly-used longbow on her back seemed to be dragging her down. So embroiled in her thoughts she was, that she didn't notice Tamlen trying to catch her attention until he attentively placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Haven't seen a frown that deep on your face for a while. Are you feeling okay, Lethallan?" His voiced was laced with an undercurrent tone of worry, and Lina gave him a reassuring smile.

"I'm simply missing the clan. All those years of wishing Ashalle would stop mothering me, and now I want nothing more than to see her standing in front of me with her hands on her hips and that disappointed pout on her face. I'd give anything to hear her disapproving tone aimed at me because of my 'recklessness.'" Lina laughed as she spoke, pushing her hair out of her eyes and tucking the strands behind her ears. Tamlen gave a wry smile, looking to the still-arguing duo behind them.

"If she _were _stood here, Lina, she'd be far from happy."

"Gracious no, she'd be anything but. I bet she'd have a heart attack, seeing us both travelling with _humans_. She'd scold us for hanging around them and warn us not to get too close, else we'll quicken and age." They both chuckled at the mental image, an unspoken wonder of how old the woman actually _was _passing between them.

"I'd always assumed we'd spend our lives with the clan, you know? Never leave it, ever, and live the way we were expected to. Grow up, marry, hunt, have children and eventually die. I'm glad, at least, that even though everything changed, it turned out this way." At those words, Lina spun slightly to get a clear look at his face, surprise evident in her eyes.

"Do my ears deceive me, Tamlen? Did I really hear you imply that you're glad to have left the clan?"

"I- you know what I meant." Tamlen answered quickly; he started to look uncomfortable.

"Not sure I do. Elaborate." Lina smirked when Tamlen opened his mouth and closed it again, squirming as he walked before answering.

"I meant that, although I'm not happy about leaving the clan for _this_, I wouldn't have left it with anyone but you. It would be unbearable, otherwise." Lina raised an eyebrow as the tips of his ears pinked. He tried to sidetrack the subject. "And besides, I'm free from the nagging. You never had to be reminded everyday that, 'as you are nearing your twenty-third year, it is becoming desirable that you find someone to bond with' now, did you?" Tamlen raised his own eyebrow to meet hers in a challenging way, a grin on his face until she answered him.

"By Marethari? No. By Ashalle? Yes, _every week_. She would pull me aside and _all _I would hear was 'Oh but Fenarel is a lovely lad, and a marvellous hunter. And Junar, he's great too, such a lovely hair colour!' But that wasn't the worse of it, oh no. Every single day I got a lecture on how 'but you and Tamlen are so close already dear, he's such a brilliant lad, and so sweet!' At one point I turned around and told _her _to marry you. She wasn't impressed." Lina laughed at the look of surprise on Tamlen's face as she spoke, watching it as it turned into one of distaste.

"Marrying Ashalle… That is unbelievably wrong on so many levels, Lina. Can you imagine it?"

"Oh I can imagine it very well. It's getting _rid _of it that I can't seem to do." She grinned once more before looking back behind her, frowning when she noticed how far behind Morrigan and Alistair were. Looking more closely, she could have_ sworn _she noticed a jolt of lightning pass from Morrigan's hands towards the human man. Lina let her eyes linger on the road behind the two humans for a moment longer, and a look of longing appeared in her eyes that didn't go unnoticed by Tamlen.

"Something else troubles you."

"I was thinking about that dog I helped in Ostagar. He looked so hopeful when I visited him just before the battle, and the idea that he is likely dead is oddly…upsetting." She sighed. Suddenly, an unfamiliar and irritating tingle took over her, racing through her veins and setting a course for adrenaline to pump through her. The quiet roar of the darkspawn that could usually be ignored raged up in the back of her mind, erasing a majority of her coherent thoughts. Both elves looked up in confusion, fidgeting where they were stood as they looked to Alistair. The human, however, had already unsheathed his sword and stood in a ready-for-battle stance.

A bark echoed along the road ahead, and a brown blur sped across the dusty road towards them. Lina stood cautiously for a moment, until it stopped directly in front of her and she recognised the patch of dark brown around its left eye. The Mabari gave her a happy, excited bark before it turned around and started to growl at the road. Alistair looked confounded for a moment, until an Alpha Hurlock appeared at the end of the road, followed by several more darkspawn, and swiftly the tingle in Lina's veins seemed to make sense.

Tamlen and Alistair were the first to move, heading directly for the Alpha with their weapons raised. Morrigan gripped her staff, muttering the arcane words under her breath necessary to freeze a genlock. Lina took an arrow from her quiver and grabbed her bow, nocking the arrow and letting it fly through the air to shatter the newly-frozen genlock. The dog pounced onto a Hurlock, knocking it to the floor and swiping its helmet off with a paw. The throat was ripped out just as quickly, and Lina winced at the black blood that was dripping from the animals jowls. Turning, she nocked another arrow and released it towards a genlock archer, repeating the process in rapid succession until the darkspawn creature fell to the floor, dead. Alistair and Tamlen, having taken care of the Alpha, moved onto the three remaining Hurlocks.

The darkspawn charged, manic bloodlust taking over as maces were swung and they nearly tripped over their own feet. Lina aimed an arrow at the side of one of their knees, successfully bringing it to its knees in time for Tamlen to swing his sword round and slice its head from its shoulders. Alistair targeted and ran through one of the other Hurlocks, his sword protruding through its chest before it could proceed to stab the spell-casting witch. The tip of his sword stopped centimetres from Morrigan's face, and the witch gave a reluctant nod of thanks as she stopped her spell. Lina turned to try and find the final Hurlock, and found it to be lying on the floor with the dog sitting on top of it, chewing the face from the beast.

When the animal had finished, they had already put their weapons away, and the dog looked to Lina as if he was expecting her to swoop down on him and shower him with praise.

"Is this the Mabari I helped cure at Ostagar?" She wondered aloud, kneeling down and wiping the dog's muzzle with a piece of fabric procured from her pack. Alistair examined the collar, giving a nod as he checked the tag.

"I think he was out there looking for you. He's…chosen you. Mabari are like that." Morrigan groaned at the way Lina's eyes lit up from Alistair's words.

"He's mine now? Great!" Lina held the dogs face in her hands, affectionately petting him, discarding the dirty fabric. The dog licked her cheek, prompting a grimace from Tamlen when its tongue left a trail of drool and darkspawn blood on her face.

"Does this mean we're going to have this mangy beast following us about now? Great." Lina ignored Morrigan's whining and Alistair's response, instead looking up towards Tamlen.

"What should I name him?" Lina asked, and Tamlen could see in her eyes that despite her question, she had already thought up a name. He groaned.

"By the creators, if you name that poor creature Rinoa, I'll put him out of his impending misery myself."

"What's wrong with Rinoa?" She asked, tilting her head to the side in wonder at the look of pity on Tamlen's face.

"You name _every _creature you come across 'Rinoa.' To date you've named a Halla, a cat and a squirrel Rinoa. And let us not forget the _dead vole_ that you named Rinoa."

"Hey, I was five! And besides, this handsome hound is actually my very own, so I shall name him what I wish. Hmm… Duster?" Lina cocked her head to the side, smiling when the dog gave her a bark of approval and launched itself towards her to give her a few sloppy kisses. The other three of them sighed, and Tamlen shook his head. It was going to be a _very _long day.

* * *

"Hey you! Stranger, I'll give you a hundred silvers if you'll drive this riff raff away from my wagon!" The human addressed Lina as she attempted to –inconspicuously- walk past unnoticed. She gave him the once over, stopping and crossing her arms across her chest.

"Add a discount and I'll happily comply." Morrigan smirked at her response, along with Tamlen, whereas Alistair allowed a deep frown to sketch itself across his face. The merchant gave a hoot of laughter.

"Hah! I'm not the only one with some business sense!" The merchant gave the priestess a victorious grin, allowing it to widen when Lina rolled her eyes at the look of horror on the woman's face. Lina had never had a good history with Chantry Priestesses; if it was her turn to venture into a village to trade with merchants, she always managed to get into an argument with a Chantry brother or sister. Tamlen had dragged her from enough villages to verify it.

"Anyone not here to buy things, move along!" Lina's words were directed mainly towards the priestess, who promptly scowled.

"You would actually do the bidding of this _evil _little man?" The priestess looked just about ready to slap her, and Lina gave her an irritating smirk.

"Absolutely. Now off you go." At those words, the woman seemed to be on the verge of stamping her feet and shouting, but she managed to hold herself back.

"Fine. May the Maker punish you for your heartlessness." The priestess stormed off, muttering under her breath about the Maker and other unintelligible things. Although Alistair and Morrigan didn't really care about Lina's choice of action, Alistair did, and was stood next to them with a scowl on his face that would have put a six year old to shame.

"Zealots. Can't live with them, could live nicely without them." Lina shook her head, eyes darting back to the merchant. "I'll be back in a few minutes for that discount." With that being said, Lina led them towards the Chantry.

Upon opening the doors, humidity hit them full force, and Tamlen noted that it felt as though he were stepping into a pool of water. Sweat and the warmth of many bodies packed together filled the air, making it musty and hard to breathe. Morrigan scoffed at the sight of many refugees huddles together, muttering darkly under her breath. Alistair quickly opted to stay outside with Duster, and Tamlen merely shook his head and tensed at the amount of humans in the room.

"Creators, let us just get this over with." Lina muttered, flinching as she walked through the humans and feeling as though the walls were coming in on her. The lack of a roof didn't help her to feel less uncomfortable. She looked around carefully, eyes settling on the Revered Mother. The woman was sat in her chair facing the doorway, looking curious at their arrival; Lina suspected that not many armed travellers entered this part of the Chantry, and even less Dalish Elves. None of them listened to her opening words about blessings and tithes, and Morrigan even made a point to yawn loudly behind her hand.

"I have no money to donate to the Chantry, but rest assured I would do so if I could. No, I'm here to talk about Sten, the Qunari you imprisoned."

"He still lives? What do you wish to talk about that concerns him? The Templars placed him there a week ago; that he still lives and breathes is unusual in itself." The Revered Mother stood from her seat, pacing in the small room as she spoke and regarding Lina with a careful look.

"I wish for you to release him into my custody." Lina answered, partially distracted with the small windows and over-use of candles in the room.

"Oh? Then his next victims might count you and me as their murderers." The Revered Mother's answer was cautious and full of suspicion. Morrigan scoffed, her attention on the Templars behind them, and Lina merely shook her head.

"His next victims would be _dead_, so I don't think they'd have an opinion." The Revered Mother seemed far from amused at her answer, making Lina's patience start to wear thin.

"Why would you need him? He is a Qunari, and would be of no use to someone like you."

"Someone like- give me the key to his cage." Lina attempted to seem threatening, however it didn't work on the old woman. Most likely because she knew she had the protection of the Templars in the doorway.

"No. I will speak no further on the matter."

"Listen, you hand me that key and you'll spare yourself the pain of an arrow-" Lina started, and although Morrigan clapped her hands together in delight, Tamlen merely dragged his clanmate back and looked the old woman in the eyes.

"The key. _Now._" Something about Tamlen seemed to have triggered a response in the woman, and took the key from her pocket and dropped it into his outstretched hand with a scathing look on her face.

"Get out."

Tamlen happily complied, leading the way out with the key to Sten's cage held tightly in his palm. Lina and Morrigan followed, one sulking and the other cackling loudly. When they finally left the stuffy, warm Chantry, Tamlen handed Lina the key and fell into step behind her with Alistair and the dog. Morrigan stayed closer to Lina, her voice low as she opened her mouth to speak.

"'Tis most curious, your behaviour." She commented, eyes darting behind them to watch as Tamlen distanced himself from the human and Duster.

"How so?" Lina asked, studying the key in her hand. Morrigan gave a smirk.

"When we first met –and even now- you lead naturally, and do not allow anyone to cut in front of you. And yet, despite how now you have calmed and can be nice enough to myself and Alistair, you treat the other elf differently. I'd even say you were sweet on the boy. After all, you are distant to me and Alistair whenever around other humans, but you do not change for the elf. Why is that?" Lina raised her eyebrow at Morrigan's question, her eyes narrowed as she pondered the answer to a question she'd always tried to ask herself. Exactly _why _was she so soft and wilfully submissive around Tamlen? He wasn't her _only _best friend, and even if she were as close to Fenarel or Merrill as she was Tamlen, she knew she'd never treat them like she did Tamlen. What exactly was it?

As they crossed the bridge and passed Dane's Refuge, Lina shook her head at the witch.

"Ask me again at a later date and I might just give you an answer." Morrigan simply nodded at this, and Lina twirled the key around her finger as they approached the cage.

"Well Sten, I'd say welcome to the party, but it doesn't quite fit." Lina muttered under her breath, pushing the key into the lock and twisting it.

The Qunari was free.


	4. Leliana

**A/N**: *sigh* A year later, and I've still not refused Leliana's help in Lothering, so the dialogue is still off/wrong. Oh, and this chapter has been **rewritten! **I added in an Elvish word, 'Quel du', which is simply 'good night.'

* * *

To Lina, Dane's Refuge was a curious thing. Outside, absolutely nothing could be heard from within; it was as though someone had magically erected a bubble around the place so as to hide the sounds of indoor activity. The building looked small and shabby, and the idea of walking into a place that looked so small was nerve-wracking to herself and Tamlen. Once the door opened, however, and Lina managed to get a quick glimpse inside before entering, she felt marginally better. The music hit her ears sharply and suddenly, raw to her eardrums as her sense of sound picked up even the shrill notes that humans would miss. The music was oddly upbeat, happy and flowing despite the broken and dull mood of every refugee packed inside the inn. The bard's music seemed to seep into every corner of the room, and Lina had to fight to stop herself from swaying slightly in the tempo of the beat. Tamlen pushed her forward with his hand in the small of her back, preventing her from lingering in the doorway, and cursed under his breath at having to enter the place.

Alistair noticed the soldiers before they did.

He ducked his head near Tamlen's, ignoring the elf's sudden tensing up, and muttered a quick 'watch it…' into his ear. Lina, having heard it, scanned the room and motioned for them to draw their weapons. At the sound of their weapons being unsheathed, and the sight of Lina drawing her bow and holding an arrow loosely in her hand, the entire room went silent. The soldiers turned, the music picked up again –but quietly- and all whispers stopped completely as the one of the soldiers moved towards her.

"Well, look what we have here men, I think we've just been blessed!" Lina scowled, an eyebrow rising as she regarded the soldier.

"Didn't we spend all morning asking about an elf of this very description? And everyone said they hadn't seen her?" The tone was sarcastic, almost smug, and whilst Lina bit back a reply, Tamlen noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Movement that consisted of varying shades of pink.

"It seems we were lied to." The source of the movement came into full view at the soldiers words, and both Lina and the man in question turned to look at a redhead young woman who had appeared. She was dressed in a Chantry Sister's robe and, from the look on her face, was dead-set on getting involved.

"Gentlemen, surely there is no need for trouble. These are no doubt simply more poor souls seeking refuge." The attempt at peace was fruitless, for even Alistair was ready to fight. Lina frowned at the woman, attempting to place her thick accent. Orlesian, perhaps?

"They're more than that. Now stay out of our way, sister. You protect these traitors and you'll get the same treatment as them." The soldiers behind the leader all drew their weapons, although Lina frowned deeper in confusion.

"We're Dalish elves; I'm not sure you can _get _less-loyal than us. Why assume we're traitors _now_?" At her question, the redhead stepped closer.

"Teyrn Loghain claims the Grey Warden's betrayed the King, or haven't you heard?" Lina heard Tamlen mutter an elven curse at the redhead's words, and her own stomach churned at the revelation. _Brilliant_.

"Enough talk. Take the Grey Warden's into custody, kill the sister and anyone else who gets in the way." With a roll of the eyes and the nocking of an arrow, Lina took a step back and readied her aim.

"Right, let us do this quickly." The soldier hadn't moved an inch before Lina released her arrow into the chink of the soldier's armour at the base of his neck. Blood spurted from the wound, and the other soldiers all but threw themselves towards them. Alistair immediately defended himself from two soldiers, whilst Tamlen started an offense against the archers at the side of the room. Lina and Duster put all their attention towards the leader and, surprisingly, the redheaded Chantry sister moved out of stealth and stabbed a warrior from behind. It took only a few minutes of solid fighting and arrow-releasing before the leader yielded, holding his hands up in defeat. Lina smirked when she noticed he was covered in his own blood.

"All right, all right, you've won! We surrender!" He was panting heavily, his hands placed flat on his knees and his shoulders slumped as he attempted to catch his breath. Lina calmly stepped forward and roughly yanked her arrows out of his broken armour.

"Good. They've learned their lesson, and we can all stop fighting now." The soldier straightened as the redhead spoke, and Lina threw a feral snarl towards the woman.

"They aim to butcher us! They deserve no mercy!" Lina nocked an arrow, prompting a yell of surprise from the soldier.

"No please, wait!" Lina glared at him, eyes narrowed and flashing with an angry amusement.

"They have surrendered! They were no match for you!" The redhead protested, but Lina only lowered her bow at the thin hand that placed itself onto her shoulder and squeezed lightly. She grimaced, surprised at how it was _Tamlen _telling her to stand down against _humans_. She paused for a few moments, hundreds of thoughts and outcomes running through her head as she tried to make a decision.

"Get out." Her words were harsh, all but spat towards the soldiers. Alistair watched her carefully, wondering how a quick, silent touch from her clanmate could calm down the bloodthirsty rage that had sprung up inside of her.

"Thank you!" The soldier and his remaining men scarpered out of the inn, and Lina carefully placed her bow back onto her shoulder. Impatiently, she shrugged Tamlen's hand from her shoulder and glowered at him.

"Thanks for your help, there, really. I appreciate it." Her eyes flashed darkly, and although Tamlen's eyebrow rose at her sarcasm, Lina ignored him to look at the redhead.

"I apologise for interfering, but I couldn't just sit by and not help."

"And who are you, anyhow?" Lina asked, her arms crossed as she regarded the Chantry sister. The woman smiled, a bright glint in her eyes as she put her weapons back in their sheaths.

"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters of the Chantry here in Lothering. Or I was."

"And I am Lina Mahariel, a pleasure to meet you." Lina uncrossed her arms as she spoke, shifted her footing more towards her left, and cocked her head to the side as she studied Leliana.

"They said you were Grey Wardens?" She looked at Tamlen as well, nodding, but more to herself than anything else. "I'm surprised you are elves, but the elves must want the blight defeated as much as Humans, no? I know after what happened, you will need all the help you can get. That's why I'm coming along." Lina looked taken back at this, and she smirked at Leliana in a challenging way.

"Oh? And why would you join me willingly?"

"The Maker told me to." Leliana answered without a waver of hesitation in her voice, and Tamlen inwardly groaned; short of comparing it to a fairytale, there was no other answer that could make his clanmate dislike her than the one she gave. Lina fought not to roll her eyes, however she did give the woman a small smile at the depth of her belief and faith. Alistair looked to the dog, both of them cocking their heads to the side and laughing.

"Um, could you perhaps elaborate?" Duster moved forwards as she spoke, nudging her legs as though he approved of the redhead. Leliana stuttered on her next words, feeling nervous under their gazes.

"I know that sounds… absolutely insane – but it's true! I had a dream; a vision!"

"_More _crazy? I thought we were all full up." Both men behind her laughed at Alistair's comment, but Lina tried to repress a snicker at the upset look that crossed Leliana's face.

"What you do, what you are _meant _to do, is the Maker's work. Let me help!" Lina started to nod her head in acquiescence, however Tamlen cut in front of her before she could really speak.

"Please, for the love of the Creators, do not allow this zealot to come with us." His voice held several tones of disdain, which Lina knew would not be present if they were negotiating this outside. His words did not change her mind.

"Very well. I shall not turn away help when it is offered so freely."

"_What_? You're going to allow her to come with us?" Alistair stepped forward, disbelief sketched onto his face.

"Alistair, she's one Archdemon short of a blight."

"Yes, but she's more like 'Ooh! Pretty colours!' than '"Muahaha I am princess stabbity, stab, kill, kill!'" Alistair animatedly moved his hands as he spoke. Lina ignored him, rolling her eyes and casting Leliana a small grin. The redhead beamed.

"Thank you! I appreciate being given this chance. I will not let you down." Lina smiled briefly at her again before spinning and pushing her way out of the door. She was desperate for air that wasn't filled with sweat and blood. The rest of them followed her out, Tamlen quickly catching up to her and gripping her upper arm to slow her down. She kept walking, but turned her head to look at him.

"What?"

"What did you mean, 'thanks for your help'?" He asked, pushing her to the side slightly to make sure she didn't trip over a rock as they passed Sten's cage.

"Exactly what I said. Out of every human in there, Tamlen, I expected you to back me up regarding killing those who tried to kill us. We have never failed to stand by each other even if we disagreed on a point; why did you stop then?" Her eyes were shooting daggers towards him, although her face remained calm and neutral. Tamlen inwardly winced; she was more than simply annoyed. There was something else to the cause of her anger, something akin to a betrayal of mutual dependence. His hand moved from her upper arm to her wrist to prevent her from trying to hit him; he knew she _wouldn't_, but the precaution was needed anyway.

"We were in an inn full of _shems_. Killing them would have been reckless." She only scoffed at his words.

"Hasn't stopped you before." Lina muttered darkly, scowling and quickening her pace, intent on finding the campsite that Morrigan and Sten had left to set up an hour previously. And despite her annoyance, Tamlen noticed how she made no move to remove his grip on her wrist.

* * *

Lina didn't speak to Tamlen again for the rest of the evening. When they had laid their bedrolls down not five feet from the others, she didn't look his way, and instead huffed and puffed to convey her anger towards him. She had stayed on that bedroll even when he pushed her meal towards her, and made to take it only when he had sat down on his own. He supposed that, as she hadn't outright moved to the other side of the camp, she wasn't too angry with him. Most likely just trying to make a point.

A useless one, but a point all the same.

Lina even made a point of laying down on her bedroll and facing away from Tamlen when it came to much-needed sleep. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, and she held back a laugh when she heard him sigh in annoyance. She fell asleep facing away from him, not even uttering a 'Quel du' due to still being annoyed with the dirty-blond.

All that side, when the nightmare struck, Tamlen was the one who had held her tightly in an attempt to calm her down. He was the one unhappily listening to Alistair as he explained the occurrence of the darkspawn dreams, and how some people could block it out better than others. When he had finished, Tamlen still had an arm wrapped awkwardly around Lina's shoulders in spite of her not needing it. She looked up from staring at her bedroll, a small smile on her face.

"Thank you, Alistair. We appreciate it." Alistair simply nodded at her and suggested that they pack up the camp. Lina objected, noticing how Leliana and Sten were still sleeping rather soundly (as soundly as the Qunari _could_, at least) in their respective beds. Finding Morrigan on watch at the other side of the campsite, as well as the Mabari, Lina insisted that Alistair get some sleep and decided to mull over a map to prevent herself from falling asleep again.

"I think we should look for the Dalish." Lina almost jumped out of her skin when Tamlen spoke, his voice close to her ear as he looked over her shoulder at the maps. Ignoring the strange feeling in her stomach that appeared at the revelation that he seemed to know just what she was thinking, Lina shook her head and traced the route to Redcliffe.

"Whilst I usually would not object… It has only been two months since we left our clan. To go back to another clan so soon would be silly. Besides, all we need to do is waltz right into Redcliffe, ask for the soldiers and then we can try somewhere else." As if to protest at her words, Tamlen shifted behind her and craned his neck to look at the maps more closely.

"Why not go to the Dalish?" Lina rolled her eyes and gave a sigh, resisting the urge to elbow him in the ribs for his insistence.

"Because we would be better suited to try Redcliffe first." Her tone was impatient, prompting Tamlen to give a sigh of defiance. His breath tickled at her ear, and Lina was suddenly very grateful that no one was watching to glimpse –and that he was too annoyed to notice- the delighted shiver that passed through her.

"I don't agree with that."

"Well that is not my problem, Tamlen. Last time I checked, you had made _me _the leader. If you don't care for my decisions, then _you _take over." She thrust the compass into his hand and started to move the objects holding the map down before Tamlen gave a sigh of defeat.

"Very well, Lethallan." With a smirk, Lina took her compass back and replaced the objects, smoothing the map out again and starting a search for notable landmarks. Tamlen squirmed behind her, watching her marking the map, and Lina rolled her eyes at him. Without moving her left hand from its place writing on the map, she brought her other arm up behind her and tugged lightly at the back of his hair.

"If it makes you feel any better, we'll go to the Dalish straight after Redcliffe. Just the two of us. We'll leave the Shems here in camp. And for goodness sake, stop acting so moody and defiant; it doesn't suit you." She then slapped his cheek lightly in jest and went back to studying the map.

She nearly knocked the ink bottle over in a moment of nervous-giddiness when he ruffled a hand through her hair before moving back to his own bedroll.


	5. Kick

**A/N**: This chapter has been **rewritten**. Almost extensively. D: And I now hate myself for having written so much per chapter the first time round; it's killing me trying to rewrite it! I shall not give up, however!

* * *

The Mabari was smart, incredibly so, Tamlen would give him that. And protective too, _awfully _so. Anytime that anyone went within a few feet of Lina, the dog was immediately alert, dark eyes following the movements of everyone close to its mistress. Tamlen seemed to be the only one it would freely let near Lina without staring him down, and that was probably because Tamlen was smart enough not to fall victim to its puppy-eyes and point blank refused to feed it scraps of food. Perhaps it was because he therefore knew that Tamlen wasn't trying to butter him up for something?

It was vicious, too. He found _that _out the hard way at dawn one morning. They'd been practising their brawling skills which, granted, wasn't appropriate considering they had a blight on their heels. The dog had taken it completely the wrong way, and had pounced the moment he caught a glimpse of his mistress brawling with Tamlen. He honestly didn't know what had happened when, one moment he was readying to parry a punch aimed at his face, and the next he was being dragged to the floor by the clothes at the scruff of his neck. Sten was taking the morning watch, but apart from a sideways glance from the stoic Qunari, no one else in the camp was witness to it as they were either sleeping or using the small river in the nearby forest to bathe. Sharp teeth in overly strong jaws clamped into the fabric of his shirt, and a deep growl echoed through the small clearing as Duster then proceeded to drag him backwards through the dirt. He only stopped when he heard the laughter from Lina's lips.

The Mabari gave another low growl, and Tamlen could feel him cocking his head to the side in wonder. It was revenge for not giving him treats, Tamlen was _sure _of it. Lina shook her head, and bent down to pet the dog on his head.

"No, Duster. Let him go. You can't hurt him unless he starts to look like a darkspawn." Lina scolded lightly, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest. She mockingly gave him a once-over. "Mind you, he's almost there. I can see the similarities." Tamlen scowled at her for those words, flinching when dog drool from the Mabari's jowls dripped onto his neck. It was warm and gooey, and it slowly ran down his back. He was going to _kill _the animal when Lina wasn't looking. Duster let go after staring at Lina for a moment, giving a sad whine before moving forwards and sitting vigilantly at Lina's feet. The dog glared – actually _glared_- at him as he stood up.

"Urgh, Mabari drool right down my back-" He was cut off when the bright blonde elf launched herself at him. Her hands gripped his shoulders and she kicked his knees out from under him, throwing him onto the floor none-too-gently. He collided with the floor painfully, feeling the dog drool being pressed into his shirt. Her fist hit his stomach before he could attempt to reverse the situation, and the resulting pain made him let loose an 'oof' of surprise. Lina pushed his shoulders down to the floor, a triumphant smirk on her face.

"I won! I won without cheating, for once!" Lina grinned down at him and moved off of him to rock back on the balls of her feet; she looked extremely smug. Tamlen raised an eyebrow, nodding his head before he hooked a leg around the back of her knees and sent her flying backwards to the floor. Her arms wind-milled, midnight eyes widening in surprise at his move before she hit the floor with a thud. The dog growled at him, but he ignored it in favour of pinning his clanmate to the floor.

"That, my friend, was cheating. I was distracted, and you took the chance to cheat. Sneaky." Tamlen let her go and sat up, dusting himself off as Lina still lay on the floor, giggling. Duster wandered off to Leliana after affirming that she wasn't upset, and Lina ran a hand through her hair before sitting up crossed-legged.

"If that was cheating, then Duster can fly. If we were in a real fight, Tamlen, I could have strangled you. A moment's distraction can cost you your life."

"Yes, but you wouldn't have strangled me. You've too soft a disposition." Tamlen muttered to her, grimacing as more of the now-cold dog drool clung to his skin. Silently cursing the dog inside the confines of his mind, Tamlen started to pull at the ties at the front of his shirt to remove it so it could dry. Lina sprung to her feet at his movement, her eyes not quite meeting his.

"Anyhow, since everyone else is on the verge of waking up, let us get ready to head into Redcliffe." With a grin, she spun on her heel and made her way towards her tent, not quite catching the smirk that a waking Leliana threw her.

* * *

Lina looked around the Redcliffe Chantry, feeling an odd swell of sadness at the state of the orphaned children, distressed wives and injured men. She was affected by the fact that so many people were cooped up together, unable to defend themselves against whatever horrors came nightly from the castle. She knew that if these humans had only been raised like the Dalish, then a vast majority of them would have had some basic training in fighting. Bann Teagan was watching her with something that reflected a dying hope in his eyes. He knew what without her help, a majority of them would perish. That single look stirred guilt within her, and it took only a glance towards a sobbing child in the corner to set her decision in stone.

"I'll help you fend off whatever evil is coming from the estate." Lina heard Alistair's sigh of relief and Duster's approving bark, but heard nothing from Tamlen and knew instantly that he was annoyed.

"You will? Thank you, my lady. The Maker truly blessed Redcliffe when he set you on our path. I suggest you talk to Murdock and Ser Perth if you need anything before tonight." The dying hope in Teagan's eyes changed to a bright glimmer of newfound hope. Tamlen coughed loudly to catch Lina's attention, and when he had it he took her arm and dragged her to the side.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm helping this poor people." Lina answered quickly, crossing her arms over her chest and looking up at him. The glint behind her eyes dared him to oppose her decision. He did.

"These people would destroy us given the chance. If the Dalish needed help for something like this, these people would not care, and you're _helping _them?"

"If I leave them to die, I'm no better than the humans." Lina's eye twitched as she answered the question, and a brief flicker of disappointment danced in her eyes.

"No one _cares _if you're no better than them. Human's probably think we're worse anyway; just take a look at a Shem city if you have doubts." Tamlen gave her a defiant glare. She met it with a glare of her own, pulling herself up to her full height. She still had to look up at him, but her gaze was unwavering.

"_I _care. If humans and elves continue with this attitude then _none _of us will ever make peace with each other." Her eyes were steely, determined, and Tamlen knew that he was fighting a losing argument. He scoffed, shaking his head.

"You're exactly like your father. Everything Ashalle told us about him, you've turned out just like him. Wanting to make a friendship with _humans_." He shot the words out without thinking, and although he regretted them almost immediately, the damage was done. He wasn't expecting her to slap him round the face, however. Her face reddened, and she pushed down the sudden shock at striking him in order to attack him verbally instead.

"Say what you like, but don't bring dead men that you never knew into this disagreement." Her hand moved as if to strike him again, and Tamlen caught her wrist in time and stopped her.

"I'm not helping these humans; I refuse to risk my life for such a useless cause." Lina's mouth twitched up into a cruel smile at his words. She stepped forward, standing on her toes so she was eye level with Tamlen, with her nose mere centimetres from his own.

"Then if you won't help, I advise you get back to camp and send someone willing to help, or so help me Tamlen, I will kick you there myself. Now." Her voice was serious, a nasty undertone to it that warned Tamlen not to push her any further. He stood still for a moment, surprised that she was prepared to kick him out of her party for the time being. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I said _move_." She ground out slowly, attempting to yank her wrist from his grip. His eyes didn't leave hers, his grey/blue orbs displaying no emotion as he searched her face for any sign of jest. At finding none, he let go of her wrist and, without a word, promptly left the Chantry. Alistair looked up as the doors closed, blinking in confusion and looking around for the male elf.

"Where did he-"

"Shut up." Lina spat out angrily, pausing for a moment before giving Alistair a sheepish grin. "Sorry. I didn't mean to get angry with you. I just… he's so _frustrating _at times." At Alistair's nod of understanding, Lina knelt down to pet the dog on the head. "Listen, Duster. I need you to go stand at the bridge, and when one of the humans from camp appear, lead them to me. If you do, I'll give you extra meat tomorrow." Duster gave her a happy bark and ran off to the doors, his tail wagging in the air as he did so.

Lina silently hoped he passed Tamlen on the way to the bridge. And that he bit him. _Hard_.


	6. An Injury

**A/N**: Here's the next chapter, it's been **rewritten**!

* * *

Lina panted heavily, ducking to avoid several arrows aimed at her head as she rummaged through her pack for a poultice. With her free hand, she dragged a skeleton corpse up to her head height, wincing as an arrow bounced off the armour. She used it as a shield, letting it go only when her fingers plucked a small poultice from the back. She tore the cork out of the top of the vial and poured the serum-like mixture onto a bleeding wound on her side. A poisoned mace had nearly torn the flesh apart, and Lina cursed her Dalish armour; it was meant purely for hunting, not fighting in battles with corpses. She used nearly the whole of the bottle, and carelessly dropped it back into her pack. Locking eyes with Leliana, the redhead nodded and covered her as Lina moved towards a small crate outside the Chantry doors where she had stored her poisoned arrows.

Slinging the quiver over her back, Lina nocked an arrow and let it loose into the fray of walking corpses. Without checking to make sure it hit, Lina searched the horizon over the lake for the position of the moon. It had nearly disappeared from the sky, and the horizon was a little brighter than the rest of the sky. She sighed, nocking another arrow; a few more minutes and the corpses would be forced to retreat.

Quickly, Lina caught movement out of the corner of her eye and spun, letting the arrow loose towards a corpse that was creeping up behind Alistair. The arrow kissed his cheek as it flew past him, directly into the eye socket of the corpse. There were fewer of them now, Lina noticed, but whether that was because they had killed them all or that it was time for them to go, Lina wasn't sure. Nevertheless, Lina used the last of the poisoned arrows to knock down a corpse that was attempting to beat Murdock to a bloody pulp with its mace.

A horn sounded in the distance, loud and clear enough to hear that most of the militia immediately relaxed. Their swings became sloppy and their arrows misdirected as a sense of relief seemed to envelope everyone. Lina looked up to the sky, breathing out heavily at the sight of the sun rising over the lake. Waves of light stretched across the water, slowly reaching the shore line and the corpses nearest to it. Any that didn't run were cut down by the militia as the sun distracted them. Two of the militia ran towards the Chantry doors, banging on them loudly with their fists and shouting to everyone inside that it was safe.

Five minutes later, after the barricade inside the Chantry was removed, the remaining villagers spilled outside. Some looked severely disturbed by the carnage of twice-dead corpses that had replaced the bodies of their loved ones. Lina herself moved to lean against the wall of the Chantry, digging for some bandages in the pack and groaning when she found none. Her vision was starting to spin, and Lina leaned her head back onto the brick wall as she started to take deep breaths. Pulling her gauntlet off, she placed a hand over the wound on her side; the poultice had mixed with the blood, and the remnant of the poison was preventing the poultice from working.

A hand slipped around her waist, and Lina jumped in surprise at the cold armour on her back. It was Leliana, and Lina relaxed automatically as the bard placed one of Lina's arms around her shoulders to help support her. Lina kept her hand clamped over the wound on her side, knowing she needed to put pressure on it no matter how much it hurt. She allowed Leliana to take over, frowning when Leliana playful pushed the helmet offered by Teagan onto her head. It pushed her short hair into her eyes, and Lina tried to shake it off. Lina didn't even listen to Teagan's speech, and lost herself in her thoughts until Leliana attempted to move her. She felt terribly useless as Leliana guided her down the Chantry steps, and the thought of having to be dragged all the way back to camp by a _human _wounded her pride horribly.

"When you are ready, meet me at the mill. We will then discuss the best way to get to my brother." Teagan nodded at Lina before he left, presumably to speak with Ser Perth. Leliana motioned for Alistair to come over. He did, with Duster following behind him, and quickly glanced at her wound.

"That's pretty deep, but it shouldn't be rendering you immobile…" Alistair frowned, widening his eyes at some of the green colouring. He tutted, shaking his head at how her armour exposed most of her stomach and lower back.

"Poison." Lina hissed through her teeth, glaring at the ground as though it were the source of all her problems. Alistair gave a shrug and stooped to pick her up under her knees and arms, and prepared to carry her back to the camp.

"Don't struggle, else I'll drop you. Morrigan should be able to help you, if you can trust her not to make it worse." Alistair muttered the last sentence, not realising she could hear him until she chuckled. Lina smiled lightly before a convulsion rippled through her, and she twisted in Alistair's arms. The wound on her side burned as it rubbed against the chain-links in the human's armour. The last thing she heard before her eyes slipped closed was Duster barking hurriedly at Alistair.

* * *

Lina's eyes flew open at an echo of pain across her cheek, and immediately she was greeted with Morrigan leaning over her. The dark haired witch had slapped her across the face to wake her up. Her side was bandaged up, and at the sight of a needle with medical string weaved through it on a box in the corner, Lina honestly hoped that Morrigan had used magic. The needle was _covered _with blood.

"Tell me you used magic…" Lina groaned as Morrigan shook her head, tutting loudly and removing a wet towel from the elf's forehead.

"No. The poison was stopping me from closing it up with magic. I had to use more practical means to stitch it up with force." Morrigan grimaced as she examined her blood-covered fingertips, and she wiped her hands with the wet towel before she tossed it aside.

"Where's Tamlen?" Lina wondered aloud, and the witch scoffed in disapproval. She moved from her kneeling position and stood up inside the tent.

"Not here, I assure you. The look on his face when he came back last night was like that of a scolded child."

"Did he see me arrive back here, unconscious?" Lina asked. Morrigan nodded, and then started to pack her items back up. "And he didn't come inside to wait with me at all?"

"No. He went into the forest when you arrived, and I have not caught a glimpse of him since. Alistair, however, has been waiting for you to wake up." At this, Lina attempted to sit up in the bedroll, searching Morrigan's face for any hint of a joke. She sighed when she found none.

"Are his items and pack still here?"

"Of course." Morrigan answered, seemingly distracted as she packed her alchemical equipment away. Lina proceeded to curse in a variety of languages, all but spitting teeth (and goodness, was that Qunari? She'd been spending too much time around Sten, clearly.) as she attempted to stand up. Morrigan raised an eyebrow and resumed packing.

"The dog managed to find a way in and eat your map of the Brecillian Forest. In turn, I fed him a poisonous herb, so do not be alarmed if he seems ill." Morrigan chimed in after Lina had quietened, picking her staff up from the floor near the wall of the tent.

"I'm going to _gut _him." Lina muttered darkly.

"The dog?"

"No, Tamlen. Where are my weapons?" Lina asked darkly. Morrigan motioned to the corner of the tent, where her longbow, Dar'Misu, Dar'Missan and arrow quiver all lay in a pile. Her travelling cloak sat neatly and folded beneath them. Morrigan pulled Lina up, letting go of her arm and allowing her to stand on her own. Lina wobbled on her feet for a few seconds, flexing her knees until she could stand properly. She took her Dar'Misu and Dar'Missan, placing them calmly into their sheaths and attaching them to her belt.

"Which way did he go?"

"Walk out the tent, and then right behind us." Lina nodded in thanks and stormed out of the tent. She ignored Alistair as he jumped up, and didn't give a second glance to anyone as she moved as quickly as her wound would allow her to into the trees.

She was going to be having words with Tamlen.


	7. Fighting

**A/N**: Hey, here's the next chapter; it's been **rewritten**. Minor changes, though!

* * *

With a heaving sigh, Lina leaned against a dead tree in the forest and attempted to catch her breath. She'd ignored the shouts of Alistair and Leliana as she'd initially stormed off, but they'd disappeared eventually the further into the forest she went. Her mind kept catapulting possible reasons as to _why _Tamlen would leave if she was injured badly, but in her annoyance it couldn't be justified. It only served to wind her up further. Throughout her life, she'd searched glades, trekked through the heart of the Hinterlands and ventured through Shemlen cities to find him, no matter what was wrong with her; it upset and annoyed her that, on one of the times that she needed him there, he wasn't.

The sun had already reached its peak, high above the treetops, and yet the forest was growing steadily darker the further she went into it. Suddenly, the surroundings changed drastically. Everything had been tainted or destroyed by the darkspawn. The bushes and shrubbery were dead and limp, the flowers were frail and dying and the grass was black. Was it Tamlen that was drawing her into the forest, this far, or was it the taint inside her, drawing her towards the darkspawn whilst she was alone?

She eventually reached a clearing, dark and dead, and the only living thing was sitting in the middle. One knee was brought up to his chest and his other leg was folded beneath it, and he was frowning into the trees.

Tamlen hadn't heard her arrive, and in her annoyance Lina decided to announce her presence by unsheathing her blade. The screech of the metal as it scraped against its casing made the elf look up, and the defensive look that dashed across his face changed once he realised that it was only her. He looked guilty, and quickly took his blade from the floor and sheathed it.

"What is wrong with you, Tamlen?" Lina asked quietly, blades held loosely in her hands as she regarded him. Tamlen stood up, wary, and raised his eyebrows at her. He still, however, did not look her in the eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about." His answer was quiet, prompting a scowl from Lina.

"You know full well what I'm talking about, Tamlen! I could have _died_ and you wouldn't have known."

"You were strong enough to survive it, Lina." At those words, Lina had to refrain from stamping her foot like a child.

"You have no way of knowing that! Blood poisoning, fever, blood _loss_; all of those could have killed me, and it would take you to remove the stick from your backside to know it! You made your point in Redcliffe, Tamlen; there was no need to carry it on." Lina spun her Dar'Misu handle around in her hand, eyes stormy and set in a glare towards Tamlen. He raised his hands in defence.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Something, _anything_. I have stood by you through everything for eighteen years, and you simply throw me to the side after a tiny argument? I want you to tell what possessed you to leave the camp when you saw me being carried back by Alistair." Lina didn't notice him twitch at her last few words, but she watched as he looked away from her to the floor. He looked as though he were trying hard to think of something that would not wind her up further.

"Listen, I was being stubborn. I know that now. And I'm…sorry." The word was ground out –it was always hard for him to apologise- and he gave her look of honest guilt. Lina shook her head.

"Don't look at me like that! For year's I've gone weak at the knees, but not this time. You're hiding _something_, and I'll be damned if I don't find out what it is." Lina locked eyes with him, and the two were stood in the clearing glaring at each other, daring the other to look away. Lina wanted an answer, and Tamlen wanted her to give up. After a minute of silence, Lina gave an annoyed groan. She pulled her Dar'Misu up in a curve to strike him, and only just in time did he move back to dodge it. He took his shield from its place on his back and used it to block another hit from her Dar'Misu.

Lina recoiled when the weapon hit solid wood and sent a shudder through her arm. Her arm jerked back, and she instead swung with her Dar'Missan in an attempt to make him use his weapon. She only succeeded in grazing his arm. He smirked at her, unintentionally, and at the expression Lina attacked again with her left arm. She aimed her Dar'Misu at his knees, and became more frustrated as it bounced off his kneepads. Lina threw away all ideas of tactics, and instead simply hit his shield repeatedly in frustration. The shield did not waver, and Tamlen made no move to go for his weapon.

Lina did not stop for nearly ten minutes, and eventually Tamlen unsheathed his sword. He swung it lazily in the direction or her Dar'Missan, and once it connected with the curve he flicked his wrist. The sword went flying out of her hand and skidded along the floor of the clearing. Lina, stunned by the sudden movement, was distracted long enough for him to grab the hand that held her other weapon. He pressed down hard on the pressure point just below her thumb, and pushed her hand towards her forearm. She dropped the blade automatically, and twisted away from him in pain as he kept applying the pressure.

Before she could pick her weapon up off the floor with her free hand, Tamlen gripped her upper arms and pinned her to the nearest tree. She wriggled in his grasp as he held her at arms length, and it took a slam against the tree for her to look up at him.

"Listen to me, no, _look _at me. I understand that you're angry; I guessed that when you swung your dagger the first time. But you need to calm down." He shook her lightly, and her struggles stopped completely as she averted her eyes to stare at the floor. After a beat, she burst out laughing.

"Isn't it ironic? We used to spend all day, every day, with each other in the clan, and now we're amongst humans, we can't stand each other!" Her laughing turned hysterical, and she clutched at his arms with considerable pressure. Her hair was plastered to her face, and some of the bands that held bits of hair together had snapped. It had turned frizzy and messy, and seemed to reflect only how she felt.

"Shh, calm down." His words were awkward; attempting to be comforting was not his best ability, especially not when he was partially the reason she was so wound up.

"I simply want to know why you left me alone in that camp when I was injured, with shems that we barely know." Lina, still giggling, hung her head. She was tired, angry and ashamed all at once, and the conflicting emotions weren't doing much good for her morale. She felt unhinged. Tamlen shook his head with a sigh.

"I was annoyed that you had sent me back to camp. It only irritated me further when I saw the shem carrying you back. I knew then that I should have stayed in Redcliffe, and then perhaps I could have protected you. At the very least, it should have been me who carried you back. You could have died in that battle, and I'd just left you to it." Tamlen explained, waiting for Lina's cackles and giggles to recede.

"Oh you idiot." Lina started, pausing to catch her breath and force down another bout of hysterical laughter. "You thought I'd hold a grudge, didn't you? Tamlen, you've pushed me into a _ravine _and I didn't care." Lina shook her head, and the giggles came back. She chuckled, leaning forwards to rest her forehead on his chest to wait for them to subside. Tamlen stood awkwardly for a moment, listening to her quieter giggles, before he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her. _To hold her steady_, he told himself, and attempted to listen carefully for anything moving in the surrounding area.

Lina had stopped laughing _long _before he realised it.

* * *

"This is your fault. I'm not sugar-coating it. You are to blame." Lina spoke harshly and folded her arms, tapping one foot on the floor as she watched Isolde. She looked, to Tamlen's horror and surprise, exactly like Ashalle whenever the woman caught them misbehaving or starting trouble. Isolde whipped around at those words, eye's flicking from the fireplace to Lina. Her orbs were ablaze with anger.

"How _dare _you? Everything I did, it was to protect-" Teagan stepped forward and cut the woman off, a slight limp in his gait from a leg wound he had received from Alistair. He held a hand up to silence the blonde woman.

"Wasn't that what started this, Isolde? You trying to protect Connor? Take responsibility." Teagan spoke, leaning against Alistair for support. Morrigan seemed to be content with not letting Teagan know she had the abilities necessary to heal his leg. Lina smirked at the witch, and it was returned with gold, cat-like eyes glimmering in the light.

"But I was only trying to-"

"Enough, please. We need to figure out what we're going to do with the demon upstairs. Oh, get a _hold _of yourself." Lina snapped towards Isolde after the woman twitched at Lina's reference to Connor. "Whether you like it or not, shem, that room upstairs no longer holds a child, but a demon. Stop weeping, it won't help. Your Maker is not going to appear out of the blue to get rid of the demon; we have to do it ourselves." Lina uncrossed her arms, ignoring Isolde and rummaging through her pack for one of the freshly-brewed poultices. She handed it to Teagan, who nodded in thanks.

"Thank you. Isolde, this woman is right. I feel at the moment that killing Connor would be…a mercy."

"So that is it? My son will die?" Isolde spoke up, and her words were directed at Teagan in hope he would say otherwise. Alistair commented on how it would be the kindest thing to do, and Tamlen and Morrigan simply stayed silent. Lina disagreed completely. Two people were for it, two people were against it.

"Killing him seems to be the only option." Teagan looked horrified even as he agreed, and his gaze was sorrowful as he looked at Lina. She shook her head.

"No. There is another way, I'm _sure _of it. I've read it _somewhere_, but I can't think of _where_." Lina wracked her mind for the information she knew she had stored. Flashes of memories of long nights staying up reading a battered, worn journal that was smudged with ink flitted through her mind, and yellow pages that smelt like herbs and _magic_.

"If there is another way, please let me know! I will not allow my son to simply _die_." Lina strongly resisted the urge to shush the woman, and suddenly felt very tense when everyone –knights included- turned their eyes in her direction.

"We need lyrium. Lots of it. I can't remember the specifics, but there were mages needed, and the victim themselves. A mage needs to go inside his mind, and kill the demon from within, I _think_." Lina nodded more to herself than any of the others, and Alistair stepped forward to place a hand on her shoulder.

"We can find Lyrium and Mages at the Circle of Magi. One of our treaties is for the mages, so we can head on there."

"The Tower is a day's journey across the lake. I implore that you make haste; Isolde and I shall keep watch over Connor for the next few days." Any look of terror on Isolde's face disappeared after Lina had agreed to the idea. Lina didn't listen to her thanks, but left the room quickly with a need to get _outside_ and away from a place with a roof.

"How did you know that?" Alistair asked as they descended the stone steps to the castle.

"My father was a mage, and Keeper of our clan for a very long time. He kept journals, a _lot _of them." Lina glanced over to Tamlen. "All those times you yelled at me for leaving the lantern on so I could read 'fairytales', you never realised I was just reading the journals."

"Did one of those journals have a method for reversing possession?"

"Clearly. He didn't invent the method, but he did write it down for the clan to refer to in the future. We rarely fall to a demon's influence, but for those odd cases, we need a way to get rid of it." Lina shrugged, all but _running _away from Redcliffe in order to reach her campsite.

When she arrived and moved into her tent to find the single journal she had brought with her, she realised with a sad pang that they would not be going directly to the Dalish after all.


	8. The Spoiled Princess

**A/N**: Hey, next chapter, **rewritten**.

* * *

_She'd felt _scared_._

_It was odd; she'd never felt it much before. Ashalle was always, _always _there to push away her nightmares, and now that she was sharing a tent with Tamlen, his staunch determination that he would 'protect them' gave her enough confidence to believe it. She'd had nothing to be scared_ about_._

_But now she was certainly feeling it. She was utterly scared stiff, walking along the path so close to the edge of the gorge. She wasn't even sure if that was the right name for the thing; she was only certain that she couldn't pronounce the other name for it, and that they _really _shouldn't be venturing so close to it. But Tamlen had insisted, had dragged her there with strength that her own five year old arms could not overcome. _

_And they'd been 'play-pushing' so violently a few metres back! She was certain Fen'Harel himself had willed her nearly lose her footing and fall in! There was no way she'd be able to crawl out of the gorge either, what with her already short height that came with being a young child. Tamlen was unaware of his friend's worries, and continued to walk alongside her. He was angry, shouting about how it simply wasn't fair that Fenarel was allowed to brawl with his brother, and yet he was not allowed to brawl with _anyone _in the clan. _Especially _not her._

"_Is because you're so v-v-v…" Lina trailed off after making several attempts at pronouncing a 'V', looking at the floor hard. _

"_Violent?" Tamlen offered, smirking when she nodded. "I should at least be allowed to brawl with you. You're my best friend, and they know I'd never hurt you!" Tamlen sulked and, crossing his arms over his chest, glared at everything but Lina in an attempt to get rid of his sulkiness. _

"_You knocked out my two front t-teeth just last week! I can't talk properly because of you!" The sentences were spoken quickly, with childish annoyance, and thus her pronunciation of every 't' and 'f' was odd. Tamlen had to listen very carefully to understand her. Lina may have been only five years old, but she was still angry with how the other children asked her why she couldn't seem to speak properly lately. Tamlen grinned at her and gave her arm a playful shove. It was more force than needed for her small body, and Lina stumbled sideways. _

_That was all it took. Lina's weight was pushed onto a very weak piece of earth on the edge of the gorge and her scream echoed through the air as it crumbled beneath her. Tamlen shouted her name in fear and surprise, and Lina could only close her eyes tightly as she fell. A crack echoed through the ravine, along with a slam, and she seemed to keep _falling_._

_She didn't stop, and oddly enough she could still hear Tamlen calling her name. Had he jumped down after her? Lina opened her eyes and nearly cried in relief when she noticed she had fallen onto a ledge. She was lying roughly six feet from the top of the gorge, and the ledge was barely wide enough to keep her on it. One roll to the side, and she'd fall. The source of the crack abruptly came to her attention when a pain coursed through her arm as she tried to move it. It must have broken, she thought, but she was leaning on it and couldn't ease weight off of it without falling off the ledge.  
_

_Lina suddenly realised she wanted to cry._

_A few feet above, she heard Tamlen attempting to move towards the edge. The ground broke again, sending mud and dirt her way as Tamlen scampered away in case he, too, fell down. Lina could hear him moving around, before she heard the cracking of his knees as he knelt to the ground and started to mutter frantically to himself._

"_I've killed her. I've only been friends with her a year and I've _killed _her! Lina! Are you alive?" Lina wanted to reply, but then decided that she deserved a bit of justice; _he'd pushed her_, after all. "I-I need to go get a hunter, or a few more…but I can't…" Lina felt bad when she heard him start to sob. She could imagine him sitting with his knees brought up to his chest, tears brimming in his eyes but unwilling to fall. He was crying out weakly for help, but Lina kept quiet and tried not to move. After an hour or so, two hunters must have wandered nearby, for Lina heard them approaching Tamlen. One was comforting him, and the other was attempting to figure out what was wrong. Tamlen hurriedly explained, denying any accusation of him crying in favour of letting them know what had happened to Lina._

_A few minutes later, Lina felt relieved to see someone leaning carefully over the edge. Pale blue eyes scanned the area in worry, before they landed on Lina. Thankfully, Lina thought privately, it was Tamlen's father. Surprise etched itself across his face before he smiled lightly to her, and then he disappeared from her sight._

"_Tamlen, Ashalle is going to go _spare _with you. She told you two not to go near this ravine; just you wait until she finds out that you've pushed Lina into it. You're lucky she's still alive. Turwaithiel, do you still have that rope on you? Please, tie it around that tree over there. Tamlen, when we get back to camp, I'm confining you to your tent."  
_

_"But papae, you don't even share a ten-! Sorry." Lina imagined that the man had thrown his son a glare to shut him up. A thick, strong piece of rope was thrown over the edge, the end of which stopped right above her head. Tamlen's father appeared once again; he was slowly descending down the ravine by holding tightly to the rope. Once he had gotten as close as he could to her, he held a hand out for her to grab. Lina took it with her useable arm, and was hoisted up with considerable strength so that she was resting on his hip. She wrapped both arms around his neck tightly, ignoring the pain in her broken one, and closed her eyes as he used the rope to pull them both out. _

_Once they were clear of the ravine and on solid ground, Tamlen's father put her down. He started to examine her injured arm when Tamlen pushed past him and simply glared at Lina. She closed her eyes again, bracing herself for the impact of a solid punch to her face; she wouldn't put it past him to start a brawl. However, to her surprise, the wind was knocked from her as he all but barrelled into her to pull her into a tight, relieved hug. _

Bang!

Lina yelped, just as she had done when Tamlen had embraced her seventeen years ago, and found herself to be –for some unknown reason- to be lying on the floor. It took a moment for her to register her surroundings, and when she did she found herself scowling; Leliana had kicked her out of the bed in her sleep. Morrigan's low chuckle could be heard somewhere in the dark, and Lina cast a glare in the general direction of the witch. The human had claimed the divan settee when she had entered the room, and thus she had not needed to share the bed with Leliana and Lina.

"Thanks for your help, Morrigan." Lina muttered sarcastically, earning another chuckle from the witch.

"'Tis quite alright. Now hush; I must sleep. The very strength of the veil surrounding Kinloch Hold is making it difficult for me to slumber." Lina, perhaps immaturely, mimicked the woman with a scoff. Rolling to the side, Lina checked that there was no dust or dirt on the clothes she was wearing. Leliana had lent her a baggy, lace up shirt. It was long enough on her arms that she needed to roll the sleeves up several times so they rested on her wrists, and the laces at the front tied just above her bust even at their tightest. On Leliana, the garment's ties rested just below the humans chin, but Lina was shorter and unable to fill the front _quite _as efficiently. The linen trousers she was wearing were her own, thankfully, but they were still too long and needed to be tucked into boots if she wanted to walk.

Lina jumped up from the floor, making her way to the door where she had left her Dalish boots the night before. She grabbed her daggers as she slipped her feet into the boots, and quickly left the room before she could wake Leliana up. The hallways of the Spoiled Princess were littered with paintings, all of them depicting the inn at different stages of the day. Lina idly wondered why the owner had so many paintings if he _lived _in the inn.

After navigating her way through the hallways for a few minutes, Lina found herself in the bar section of the inn, where they had first entered. It was bright, terribly so, and she rubbed at her eyes tiredly. She caught sight of Alistair after she'd gotten used to the brightness, and she weaved through the tables to sit opposite him. A loud groan escaped her lips as she sat down, and she put her head in her arms at Alistair's muttered 'hello.' She didn't notice the Dwarven woman standing next to her until Alistair kicked her in the shin.

"Ow! What do you think you're- oh, hello there." Lina looked positively stunned as her eyes flickered from Alistair to the dwarf. Eventually, she managed a small smile. The dwarf raised an eyebrow.

"What can I get you? And please don't say mead; we're terribly low on that. And please don't say ale; we've a Dwarven Merchant contingent coming in tomorrow." Lina grinned at the annoyed tones in the woman's voice; the dwarf was clearly irritable. She pulled her sleeves up, pursing her lips as she glanced to Alistair's tankard. It was full of something swishy and dark brown.

"The sweetest, non-alcoholic thing you have available, please." The dwarf gave her a quick nod before she left, and Lina's eyes lifted to meet Alistair's. He gave her a grim smile, downing the rest of his drink before he leaned back in his chair.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Not at first. How can you humans sleep on those…those _mattresses_? They're so soft and squishy. Like a pile of feathers beneath you. It's too soft for me, having spent twenty-something years sleeping on hard ground or the wooden surface of an aravel. Leliana kicked me off the bed in her sleep, so I figured I'd wander down here. What about you?" Lina smiled in thanks to the dwarf, passing her six silvers before she took a sip from the tankard. She pursed her lips at the taste; it was sweetened, squeezed orange juice, and it seemed to be fresh. She hadn't been aware that oranges grew in Ferelden; she'd only ever encountered the juice in the Free Marches, where it was imported from Antiva. Perhaps an environment controlled by the mages allowed the trees to grow?

"Not a single one of us could –or were even _willing _to- sleep. Unlike your room, we got a room with a single bed and a chest of drawers. Nothing else. Tamlen wanted to come down too, but Sten had already decided that two of us should stay and guard the belongings. I risked getting rammed by Sten's overly-large sword more than Tamlen cared to." Lina choked on her drink at his last sentence, prompting the ex-templar to look at her in confusion. A minute later, he turned bright red and glared at her.

"Rammed by Sten's…overly-large sword. Oh Creators, I'm definitely teasing him with that." Lina giggled into one of her hands, and both the dwarf and the inn-keeper looked over at her in annoyance at her laughter.

"You _know _I didn't mean it like _that_. I meant the greatsword that you gave him outside of Lothering." Alistair crossed his arms over his chest, scowling at her immaturity and waiting for her to stop laughing.

"Okay, I'm calm. I'm not laughing anymore. Think about what you say next time, especially if you're near me."

"Oh great, I'm travelling with a woman who has the dirty mind of a prostitute!" Lina's jaw dropped, and had she not looked amused, Alistair would have apologised profusely for saying it.

"You take that back!" Alistair smirked, unfolding his arms as he sat up properly in the chair.

"No."

Lina narrowed her eyes at this, chewing her lip to hold in her laughter. A smile tugged at the edges of her mouth, and she lightly closed her eyes to stop herself from outright grinning.

"Take it back, else I'll beat you." Alistair shook his head at her, and Lina folded her arms on the table to stare him down. "I'll hit you. With that mug of yours." She moved to snatch it up, but Alistair moved it out of the way.

"No, don't hit me! I bruise easily!" He winced, even though she hadn't touched him, and watched her carefully until she shrugged and sat back in her seat. A look of utter seriousness quickly crossed onto her face.

"Do you feel it, in the air?"

"Feel what?"

"When I was in the ruins with Tamlen, a few months ago, we felt as though we'd walked into a dragon's lair. The air felt strange, like it was weak and begging to be ripped apart. _Evil _hung in the air, along with death and misery. Tamlen said it had something to do with the veil being thin. I feel the same, right now. Weak. But when we first arrived, I didn't notice it. Is it coming from the tower?" Lina yawned into the back of her hand after she had spoken, but kept her eyes on Alistair as he took in what she was saying.

"I feel _something _in the air. I thought it was just because of my Templar training, since we're close to the tower. Whatever it is, we'll find out in the morning."

"Aye, that we will. Well, ser Templar, I think it is time for me to retire a second time. Or I may kick Leliana off the bed in retaliation. Good night, or whatever it is you humans say." Lina rose from the table and flicked a silver coin in the dwarf's direction before she gave Alistair a lazy wave, and turned to leave.

Ten minutes later, both Morrigan and Lina pretended to be deep in slumber when Leliana came face-to-face with the wooden floor.


	9. Arlathan

**A/N**: Here's the next,** rewritten **chapter! Big changes; the dream has been changed completely!

* * *

"_Resist! _You must resist, else we are all lost." Wynne's voice floated above the stuffy atmosphere and reached Lina's ears. The mage fell to the floor seconds later, and Lina pushed one hand onto the wall to force herself to stand upright. Her eyes did not agree with staying awake, as they felt like the wanted to do nothing more than pop out of their sockets the longer she kept them open. Her brain willed her to simply give in and fall asleep, making her knees feel like jelly. The demon advanced, and the closer it came the blurrier the room got.

Wynne's body had fallen onto Alistair's chest, with her cheek being sliced open due to the metal plates on the human's armour. Alistair had fallen next to Tamlen, who seemed to have curled up into a ball as he'd fallen. As the demon moved even closer, Lina took her dagger and hurled it blindly in the direction of the beast.

It missed. The small lack of mental concentration that came with Lina's annoyed huff allowed the demon to fully curl itself into her mind. Slumber was forced upon her, and Lina stumbled backwards with blurring vision. Her attempt to clutch the wall to keep herself standing failed, and quite quickly darkness took over.

Hitting the floor didn't feel quite like it should have done.

* * *

She was walking.

It wasn't aimlessly, she noticed as she pulled herself out of deeper thoughts that she couldn't really recall. She passed gilded columns and marble walls, gazed at bright green gardens within large domes, and simply smiled at the blue sky as she walked. It was only at a tug on her hand and the sound of a shoe stubbing against a marble floor did she realise that she was holding someone's hand.

Alarmed, Lina turned, suddenly brought back to her senses as she tightened her hold on the small hand enclosed inside her own. The hand belonged to a small elven boy, who was standing there looking teary as he stumbled once more. His eyes were closed tightly, and his other hand balled into a fist as Lina knelt down to look at him. His cheeks were wet, stained with tear tracks, and as he bent his head his bright blond hair moved to cover his eyes.

Carefully, gently, Lina brushed his hair from his face and gave a small noise of surprise when she glimpsed the arrowhead birthmark on his left temple. Her hand moved automatically to her own, fingers hovering over the symbol that marked her as a Mahariel. Her father had had one, as had his father. Her father left no brother or sister behind, and Lina herself did not have another sibling who could have had a child, so how had this one gotten the birthmark? He looked to only be five, certainly no older than six. As Lina turned his head to the side gently, she observed his button nose that could only have come from her.

Who _was _he?

She gave him a gentle shake, attempting to make him lift his head by cupping his chin, but the boy would not open his eyes.

"Da'len, why are you crying?" At the question, the boy sniffled and pulled his hand from her own.

"I'm sorry f-for brawling…" The boy trailed off, fists balling again before he sniffled once more.

"You've been fighting? Da'len, you must try to get along with the members of your…" Lina trailed off. Her mind wanted to say 'school', her instincts wanted to say 'clan.' Why couldn't she say it? The boy's eyes burst open as she spoke, and Lina felt as though she had been slapped when familiar pale blue/grey eyes locked with her own. This was not her best friend, but he had his eyes. The boy all but barrelled into her, wrapping his arms tightly around her neck as he sniffled into her shoulder.

"Please don't tell father! He won't take me hunting with him if he knows I started fighting!" The boy pleaded, and Lina felt extremely sorry for him. She didn't even _know _who he was, but nonetheless she still picked him up carefully and adjusted him so he was sitting on her hip. She managed to keep him there with one hand steadying him across his waist, and she shook her head at him.

"Very well, I won't tell your father." She flinched, hesitating. Was she his teacher? Had he started a fight, and she was taking him away from the other children? She resisted the urge to ask _who_ his father was. "Where is he?"

Apparently, that wasn't a much smarter question either. The child cocked his head to the side, looking at her as though she'd sprouted an extra head.

"He's in your rooms, Mamae."

Lina nearly dropped the child.

_Mamae?_

Something was wrong, something was utterly, completely wrong. And yet, despite it all, it made sense. The child's birthmark; it could only come from her. The eyes; there was only one male she'd ever considered having children with, and the child had inherited the eyes. Lina could only stare at him for a minute longer, before she got a hold of herself. Somehow, she ended up blushing. The boy immediately put on a dramatic look of concern, and placed his hand on her forehead with a childish look of determination on his face.

"Are you feeling sick, Mamae?" Lina shook her head at his question, and fanned herself with her free hand. She nearly fainted when she spotted the gold band adorning her ring finger.

"By the creators…breathe, Lina, breathe." She took deep breaths to keep herself standing. She felt as though she'd been smacked in the chest with a wooden plank. Something was clearly wrong. This place, it was too ethereal, too perfect. This life she seemed to be living was too brilliantly crafted to be her own. Where _was _she?

And then everything rushed back to her. Kinloch Hold. The mages, fighting each other and turning into abominations every left right and centre and the templars being cut down by demons. The final demon in the last room they entered, who had put them under a spell and had sent her to _this._

"You're right… Mamae is feeling a little sick. Will you lead the way to our rooms, Da'len?" Lina asked carefully, putting the boy back on the floor. He gave her a determined nod, taking her hand in his own and marching in the direction of wherever their rooms must be. They passed marble hallways and wooden buildings, and Lina marvelled at how everything was an exact copy of how she expected Arlathan to look.

A few minutes passed, and Lina wondered if the boy had perhaps gotten lost when he led her out of a large, carved wooden doorway to what looked like a small village a few dozen yards away. Small wooden houses –and she'd never imagined _these _near Arlathan- were sitting along a single, circular path that left a large open space in the middle of them. The boy dragged her through a gap between two of these houses, and stopped her in front of a door.

"You have the key don't you, Mamae?" He asked, nudging at her pocket. Lina automatically placed a hand into her pocket –creators, was she wearing a _dress_? - and found that he was correct. Once inside, Lina was surprised to find it was larger than it looked from the outside. It looked like the average house, despite being only one floor high, and three doors led off from the main room into different rooms. The boy frowned.

"He's not here… Please don't tell him when he gets back!"

"Tell me what?" Lina, along with the small boy, flinched at the words that drifted into the house. She turned slowly, plastering a smile on her face as she recognised the voice all too clearly. Something coiled in her mind, dark tendrils wrapped around her senses and tried to make her think _differently_ to how she wanted to. The demon, then? Impossible. She'd see it.

"Da'len, go to your room?" It was half a question, half an order. She wasn't sure if the boy _had _a room, but he apparently did as he scarpered off to one of the doors and slipped through it at her words. Tamlen watched her with his eyebrows raised, and waited for her to speak.

"Has he been brawling again?"

Lina paled at the question. Either this wasn't the real Tamlen, or he was being controlled much like she had. She hadn't woken up _walking_, after all. Her silence seemed to have answered his question.

"I told him to stop, too. You encourage him, Lina." She grimaced at this; that was extremely uncharacteristic of him. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that even if parenthood were to make him more responsible, absolutely nothing would stop Tamlen from encouraging a child of his to brawl.

The presence in her mind swelled at her thoughts and, without wishing it, Lina held a hand out for Tamlen to take. He entwined his fingers through her own and pulled her to him, and Lina felt herself going against most of her will. She tugged before she could get too close, however, and locked her eyes with his.

"Tamlen, we need to get out of here."

"Do you not like it here, emma lath?" Lina cringed, genuinely _cringed_. She could not ever, _ever _imagine him addressing her as 'my love.' Perhaps simply 'love' but never in an overly-possessive sense, and especially not in such a confused tone of voice.

"Tamlen, we're still at the circle to-." Lina trailed off, clutching her head in pain. Something did not want her to continue her sentence. She completely missed the cruel smirk that played across Tamlen's lips. The pain faded, and Lina tried again to speak. "The demon in the tower, you're still- argh!" The pain was white-hot, flashing behind her eyelids and burning the images of the tower before her. Without warning, and acting completely on instinct, Lina looked up and slapped him.

It was the only way she could attempt to wake _him _up and not the shadow of himself, since every time she tried to speak the pain would resound in her head again.

And then she noticed it.

A flash of anger passed behind his eyes before they became simply empty. She'd not noticed it, as the lack of any emotion made it so she _couldn't _detect it. But that very flash was pure, tightly controlled rage. She couldn't see the demon, but she could see its shell. Ripping her hand from his, Lina took several steps backwards, stopping only when she bumped into the table.

"Get away from me…"

"Calm down, Lina. Why are you acting strangely? Do you not remember what has happened?" His voice was calm, alluring, and it only prompted Lina to scrabble her hands across the table behind her to try and find something to throw at him. A plate was gripped and thrown, but Tamlen merely avoided it by ducking. He did, however, stop and hold his hands up.

"What has happened, then? What story do you have up your sleeve?" As she spoke, Lina slowly felt a heavy weight materialising on her back. She was slowly changing into her original attire. She tried to grab for a weapon, but her hand moved straight through it; it needed to solidify.

"Listen to me, Lina. We defeated the demon at the tower, don't you remember? You went on to defeat the Blight, and as a reward we were given back the Arlathan forest. Arlathan was raised from the ground! This is your Arlathan." Lina frowned at the words, edging around the table as Tamlen moved closer.

"_My _Arlathan? You're not even trying to hide it now, are you? What of the elders, those who still slept in their underground tombs as the city was sunk to the ground?"

"Why would I hide it, if you already know the truth? I could show you the elders; I could take you to the resting places of those who still do not age." Lina hesitated at those words. A demonic offer, yes, but a truthful one?

"They're dead." The demon smirked at this.

"So you assume."

"And you would know! Anyone who came into contact with the human's quickened!" Lina was finally able to grab a hold of her Dar'Misu, and quickly she unsheathed it and held it out before her in a threatening posture. The demon-Tamlen simply ignored it.

"Just like you are, yes? Even without the taint, you've been around your humans too long to enjoy the century and a half lifespan your people have regained. What of those who slept before the humans came, those who did not wake as your great city fell? The time passed since the fall is only the blink of an eye to them. Those who still sleep are those who remember _everything_." The coils were wrapping around her mind again, drawing her in and teasing her. She wanted to make a deal; surely if she could get the location from the demon and pass it onto another Dalish, then her death would be worth it? Tamlen would scoff at the idea. He'd have told her to hurry up and kill the demon.

He would have been disappointed to see her even consider it.

In partial anger, and with part of her own free will, Lina broke free of the influence for a second time. The Tamlen before her went back to his calm, neutral face, satisfied with the offer that hung between them.

"Let me go. I will kill you if you don't." A smug look crossed the demon-Tamlen's face.

"No you won't. Not when I look like this." Lina's breathing sped up as the demon moved even closer, and she closed her eyes tight to try and think of some sort of solution. She couldn't die; the others needed her, the _mages _needed her. Without opening her eyes to see if she was aiming right, Lina launched the Dar'Misu in the general direction of the demon-Tamlen.

Both the stomach-churning sound of metal slicing open bone and muscle, and the immediate shaking of the earth beneath her feet told her that she'd aimed correctly. Her breathing became heavy as the world around her crumbled, and in the distance she heard a child screaming in agony. She grasped the table that was not before her; it was the only thing that wasn't shaking or crumbling. Lina refused to look up once she opened her eyes, and kept her stare on the table as it changed its shape. It reflected a pedestal, although Lina did not have a chance to examine it properly as her eyes drifted towards where the demon likely was. She needed to get her weapon back, after all.

Lina had to stop herself from hyperventilating when she noticed that, although now dead, the demon still looked like Tamlen. Tears stung at her eyes, and it wasn't helping that the child was still screaming somewhere.

"I'm sorry…so sorry." She wasn't entirely sure who she was saying it to, so instead she settled in simply pulling her Dar'Misu out from the abdomen area of the body. Lina didn't wipe the blood before she sheathed it, and focused on calming her breathing as she reached the pedestal. She needed to get _out _of the area before she collapsed, and something told her that the pedestal would do that.

The first tear fell as the surroundings spun wildly.


	10. Fade Reunion

**A/N**: Another **rewritten **chapter!

* * *

_Lina_

When the world around her stopped spinning, and the surroundings settled into something bare and vastly different from where she had previously been, Lina opened her eyes. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and the first thing she did was move to the side and promptly empty the contents of her stomach. The spinning hadn't made her ill; no, it was the events in the area where she'd been trapped.

Taking deep, steady breaths, Lina wiped at her mouth and thought long and hard. There was no way it was the real Tamlen; the demon would not have been stupid enough to place them both in the same dream, right? And that _child_! She was grieving over a child that she hadn't even birthed, who had looked so similar to both herself and Tamlen that it was unnerving. The demon knew exactly what strings to pull in her mind, and had to have dug so deeply to know what she imagined Arlathan to have looked like.

And there was _still _the lingering worry that she'd killed _her _Tamlen. Another convulsion rippled through her, although she somehow managed to keep her bile down as she shook her head madly. No, it wouldn't have been. Tamlen was stronger than her mentally; if she could sense it was a trap, he would have done so too.

A few minutes later, Lina had recovered enough to think positively, and started to wander around the seemingly empty fade island she was on. She paused after a few moments of searching, as her midnight eyes had spotted someone standing a few feet away. Cautiously, she made her way towards him, prepared to strike should it be a demon. Lina calmed somewhat when she realised he was only a mage, but then more fear lit up inside her when she realised a mage was much more likely to be possessed. Still, she thought to herself quietly, he did look like that man who had been unconscious on the floor next to the demon in the tower. She approached him carefully, her eyes guarded as he looked up and noticed her approach. He too was guarded until he realised she wasn't a demon.

"I see you're no demon. I assume you got past your personal trap?" The man asked her, brushing a hand through his brunette hair to keep it from getting in his eyes. Lina narrowed her eyes.

"That was a trap?" She asked quickly, and it seemed to her as though her words were tumbling out of her mouth in relief. The man nodded.

"The demon here, it locks us up in a dream that it thinks we can't escape. I thought I'd escaped mine, too, but I've been wandering these empty grey spaces for a lifetime. My name is Niall. I was trying to save the circle when I encountered the Sloth Demon. I expect that we had similar experiences." Lina raised an eyebrow, highly doubting _that _particular statement. She guessed that her eyes were still slightly red.

"You have the Litany of Adralla, don't you?" At her question, Niall grimaced slightly at her question, and shook his head at her.

"The Litany was our weapon against the blood mages' domination. But it's too late; everyone is dead."

"The blood mages' domination?" Niall blanked at her a little, before he seemed to remember that she wasn't a mage and therefore likely didn't know much about blood mages.  
"They can get into your mind and take control of your body. You cannot stop what they try to make you do…but the Litany protects against it. It was our only hope of saving the circle, but now… This place drains you of everything."

"I'll find a way out." Niall scoffed at Lina's confident tone, and shook his head at her again.

"No, there isn't any way out of here. You think there might be, and you almost get there before you realise you're wrong. You see that pedestal? I've studied the runes on it- runes that signify different islands of the Sloth Demon's domain. The Sloth Demon itself is on the centre island, but you can't get there. The five islands around the centre somehow form a protective ward. I thought I was getting somewhere when I figured it out, and I went to each island in turn. It's hopeless. You'll see the path, but be unable to get to it, and it will slowly drive you mad." Lina clicked her tongue unconsciously at his words, and had to fight back the blush that rose to her cheeks at the look Niall gave her.

"Could my companions be on those islands?"

"I do not know. There were many dreamers. You might find a way to reach them through the islands, if you're lucky."

"Well then, I'm going to try it. I refuse to die _here _of all places." Niall scoffed once more as Lina walked away from him, towards the pedestal. He was incredulous, and likely didn't believe her. She didn't believe herself, either, if she was honest.

"Nothing dampens your spirit, does it? I'm not certain if I should be admiring you, or pitying you. Don't mind me, then." Niall could only watch her as she nodded distractedly, and started to study the pedestal herself.

_Tamlen_

The truth was _bitter,_ Tamlen thought ruefully as he skidded to a halt in the middle of a convenient clearing. He was trying to find a way _out_ without having to actually use force. He only seemed to be running in circles, however. He knew the place around him was a lie, _creators forbid,_ he wasn't _that _dense. And, despite that everything being offered to him was all that he wanted, he knew Lina had more dignity than this.

That, and she'd never been _that _good at seduction.

A rustle behind him alerted him to the presence of the demon, and he turned in time to briefly glimpse the skin on not-Lina's arms go from purple to tanned. It confirmed his theory that he was being chased by a demon. Another give-away was the slightest purple tinge to the roots of her bright blonde hair. It was painfully obvious, and something that he'd ignored. Likely along with the painfully low cut tunic that the demon had donned.

Before the demon could move into the clearing from the trees, Tamlen took his knife from his belt and hurled it towards the demon. It caught the tunic on the demon's body, and cut through it to embed itself in the tree. It dragged the demon with it, pinning it in place against the tree. The disguise flickered for a moment as a feeling of surprise washed over the demon, before a familiar cunning smile spread across the demon's face. It was Lina's 'persuading' grin, and he was very well acquainted with it.

"Very well, mortal. You win this game." The demon kept Lina's tone of voice and appearance until Tamlen raised both his eyebrows. The demon then gave up the act completely, and returned to her true state. Tamlen briefly wondered why on Thedas the demon would take on that form when it could change at will. He pushed it from his mind when the demon spoke again.

"You know I cannot let you leave. And when you have me here, why would you _want _to? I can give you everything you've _ever _wanted, including _her_. All of her, inside and out." The demon leaned in as Tamlen stepped forward to pull his knife from the tree. His eyes glazed over the moment his skin brushed against hers, and every single less-than-proper thought he'd had of Lina flashed before his eyes. This _had _to be a desire demon. The heat of his skin, however, didn't match the heat that was playing before his eyes. That fact alone helped him to resist the hot breath on his neck and the nibble on his upper ear long enough for him to turn the knife in his hands and drive it forwards. It pushed sharply through flesh, muscle and bone, piercing the desire demon in the ribcage directly below its heart.

Pulling the knife back out, Tamlen grabbed one of its horns and yanked its head back, baring its throat to him. The blade was dragged across the demons throat before it could even resist. Warm blood sprayed out violently towards him, as black as that of the darkspawn taint and twice as disgusting. He shuddered, wiping the knife on the demons cheek before he threw it to the floor.

"I don't need your help for that. She can give me more than you ever could."

He was stuck. _Lost _and stuck, if he were to be honest with himself and put it simply. No matter _which _door he went through, he found his surroundings would change and he would end up right back at the beginning, next to that damn pedestal that had brought him here in the first place. Half of the doors were too large and heavy for him to push open, and he wondered how _anyone _had been able to close it. He cast a glare towards the pedestal, and his eyes widened as he noticed something peculiar. In the two hours that he'd been here, he noticed, another glowing circle now had a rune stamped over it. He frowned, and moved from the room idly as he pondered the strangeness of the situation. Had one of his companions also escaped the temptations? Had _Lina_? He paused, attempting to open another door before stopping completely as he heard the sounds of a flickering blaze on the other side of the door.

The other doors in the hallways all led to rooms that had been cleared out before he himself had arrived, and Tamlen carefully entered one of them once more. He wanted to re-inspect the mouse hole in one of the corners; not out of curiosity, but annoyance at how random they seemed to be. Tugging his gauntlet off, Tamlen pushed a fist into it and felt around for any switch or contraption that could open one of the giant doors. He could feel nothing that would help him.

Tamlen winced abruptly when something very sharp sliced into his knuckles several times. He could feel blood immediately warm the area as his own blood leaked from what were probably a few puncture wounds. He reached further in and curled his hand around whatever it was that had cut him, and gave a small noise of surprise when fur brushed against his fingertips. Whatever it was he had caught then proceeded to wriggle and writhe for freedom.

Pulling his hand from the hole, Tamlen moved his arm so his hand was eye level, and was even more surprised to see the tail of a very small mouse thrashing wildly as it stuck out between his fingers. He immediately took the tail in his other hand, careful as he still had his other gauntlet on, and dangled the bright golden-yellow mouse in front of him. It thrashed around wildly, attempting to swing itself up and grip the leather of his gauntlet so it could get away. At a closer look, he could tell that it was larger than a field mouse but much, _much _smaller than the average rat. He gave the creature a small shake, and it gave up its struggle and allowed itself to simply swing from his fingertips. When he locked eyes with the small creature, it seemed to freeze up and stared at him. Its large ears flattened in surprise.

"You bit me! Look at the state of my hand!" He paused and motioned his bloody hand before he could get annoyed, wondering if it was a demon in disguise or simply an unusually small rodent. He contemplating merely asking, but then realised that a demon probably _wouldn't_ answer him whilst he had the upper hand. He opened his mouth to speak again, but stopped when the mouse –with unusual strength on its part- swung again and twisted its body upwards. Its paws grasped the leather ridges in his gauntlets, and it used them to climb up onto his hand. In surprise, Tamlen let go of its tail, and turned his arm over in time with the mouse until it sat in his palm. The mouse then gave him a disapproving squeak.

"Heh, for a rodent, you seem quite smart. Unusually so." His voice was mocking and, whether or not the mouse actually picked up on it, the mouse promptly crawled up to the small space between two strips of the leather on his gauntlet and bit him lightly. He resisted flailing his hand, and heard the indignant squeak that the golden-yellow mouse gave as he glared at it. To his complete surprise, the mouse glared _back _at him. Its eyes were clearly narrowed, convincing him that it wasn't a normal mouse.

"I don't find this funny. In fact, I'm going to kill you." Tamlen's words were serious and, the moment he moved his other hand to take the knife from his belt, the mouse turned and leapt off his hand with a loud squeak. Tamlen was completely certain that, if it didn't die immediately, it would break every bone in its tiny little body after jumping from such a height. Just before the mouse reached the floor, however, its body fuzzed in the light. A split second later, a very relieved Lina was stood in its place. She whispered his name to herself with a grin of delight, before she dashed towards him and nearly crashed into him. Her hands moved to his shoulders, and she shook him as though to reassure herself that he was actually there. Her next words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them.

"Thank the creators; I thought I'd killed you!"


	11. Shape Shifting

**A/N**: Hey, here's the next chapter, it's been **rewritten**.

* * *

"One moment…how did you get out of that trap?" Lina's question was asked with a suspicious tone to her voice, and she carefully let go of his shoulders and took his injured hand in hers. Her fingers ran over the several bite marks on his knuckles, and he watched as she inwardly winced as she felt each bit of broken skin.

"I knew it was a lie. There wasn't a single chance that it could have been real." Tamlen shrugged as he answered, and then hissed as Lina wiped at the blood with her gauntlet before applying a poultice to his hand. Lina gave him a wry grin as he tugged his hand back, feeling the wounds stinging from the poultice. He pulled his gauntlet back on before she could waste the rest of the poultice, and cringed at the sticky, slimy feeling that came with it.

"What was your trap?" Tamlen raised an eyebrow at her, pretending to struggle with the buckle on his glove to buy him time to think up a suitable lie.

"Arlathan. I don't want to talk about it." He shrugged, and didn't miss the look of annoyance that flashed across Lina's face. She knew he was lying, but didn't call him out on it.

"I had a similar one, although I very nearly fell for mine. Do you have all of your weapons?" Tamlen double-checked his sheaths and belt quickly before nodding at Lina. Satisfied with his response, Lina grinned and made to move towards the door. Tamlen stopped her by grabbing her wrist, and Lina gave a yelp as she was yanked roughly backwards.

"Wait. You have some explaining to do. What was _that_?" To explain what he meant, Tamlen nodded towards the mouse hole sitting in the corner of the room. Lina grinned a little and rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm sorry; if I'd have known it was you putting your hand down the hole, I wouldn't have bit you." Lina made to move again, but Tamlen yanked her back with an unimpressed look on his face.

"I don't care about you biting me, what I'm more confused about is this: When did you suddenly learn how to turn into a _mouse_?" Lina chuckled at the unbelieving look on his face, before grinning madly at him and disappearing. A few seconds later he had the sense to look down to the floor where, sure enough, a golden mouse was sitting there and looking up at him. There was a distinctly cheeky, un-mouse like look in its eyes. A second later, she was back in front of him, grin still plastered on her face.

"I can change into a strange sort of man, too. It burns coldly, though, more than I think it should, but it helps me get past the fires. I'm still rather cold from it; I wonder if it's because I keep changing into it?" Lina frowned and cocked her head to the side in wonder. Now that it was mentioned, however, Tamlen did notice that her face was a little pale, and that her hands had felt rather cool.

"I'm certain that a decrease in your body temperature isn't _good_."

"I know; I'm hoping it'll wear off once we've gotten out of here. Now come on; did you go through the door at the end of this corridor, by any chance?" Lina asked, moving to the door to their current room and peeking out of it. Tamlen shook his head.

"I opened it, but the room was empty and there was a fire blocking the other doorway. I didn't see a point in going through." Lina nodded at his answer, and motioned for him to follow her out. He did, however when he left the room he was greeted only with the mouse scurrying down the remaining part of the hallway.

Tamlen followed as silently as he could, ignoring the sounds of a few humans talking in the next room. He didn't notice Lina had stopped until he heard her pained squeak, and realised that he'd stepped on her tail. She curled it in towards her body, and pressed both her tiny paws to the door whilst looking up at him. There was a squeak once the door was open enough for her to slip in through it, and the last he saw of her was her tail in the air as she disappeared through the door. A minute or two later she slipped back through and changed back into an elf.

"Three humans. Two out in the open, one in stealth. One of them is right next to the door, one is near a bookcase and I couldn't exactly _see _the third one, but I could hear him. You go in alone, and I'll follow you whilst hidden." Her instructions were spoken frantically, and Tamlen didn't have a chance to reply before she kicked the door open and promptly disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

The first human threw herself at him before he'd even walked through the door or unsheathed his weapons, although she threw only a messy stab that he could easily dodge. Tamlen unsheathed his sword and brought it down hard upon the human's blade, knocking it from her hands before bringing his shield up to connect with her jaw. A crack echoed through the air as it connected with her jaw, and at the sound Lina slipped into view. Her blade was raised, and with a smirk she brought it down into the back of the human's neck. Blood spurted from the wound, but Lina had already removed the blade and disappeared into the shadows again before the woman had even hit the floor. Tamlen was left to deal with another human who had taken an aggressive stance from near the bookcase.

Lina slowly crept through the room towards the far corner, ignoring the grunts of pain coming from Tamlen and the other human as they fought. She made her way to the table near the back of the room and peeled her ears for the sound of the human she had heard as a mouse. Lina stood deathly still as she waited to hear the heavier breathing of the human, and turned when she heard a breath at the back of her neck.

Lina darted to the side and grabbed the human's tunic at the same time that he moved to attack, and she missed the dagger that would have surely pierced her ribcage. She dragged the man forwards and sunk her dagger into his neck before kicking him away to prevent any blood gushing towards her face. Lina turned in time to watch Tamlen impale the other human male with his blade, and the other elf then used his shield to push the body off of his sword.

"I hope you have a plan, because I don't think we'll pass through that fire unharmed." Tamlen quipped, walking towards her as he sheathed his weapon and shield. Lina was standing with her arms folded across her chest, and she was chewing her lip thoughtfully as she looked to the fire and then Tamlen.

"I can pass through it… but I wonder…" Lina frowned before she clapped her hands together; Tamlen felt himself groan. Whatever was brewing in her mind, he was certain it couldn't be a smart idea. "Give me your hand, and trust me." Tamlen raised an eyebrow at that; she didn't _need _to ask him to trust her. He thought she understood by now that he trusted her implicitly, no matter how much he might not like her plans, and he slipped his hand into hers. Lina muttered several words under her breath before her body shifted, and in seconds a man was stood before him, burning and skeletal. He thought that perhaps the half-corpse had grinned at him, but his attention was directed towards the flames flickering up his arms.

The flames didn't burn, but instead cooled him down as they travelled up his arms and down his torso, spreading from Lina to himself without him needing to have his skin falling off. Lina promptly positioned herself behind him –without letting go of his hand- and pushed him through the flames.

The pain was quick, sudden, as though he'd been stabbed cleanly and neatly. It was white-hot, and momentarily made him feel dizzy and sick before the cool flames on his body seemed to counteract it all. His skin cooled rapidly even as Lina stepped through behind him, and once she had let go of his hand the coolness disappeared along with the heat. Tamlen was certain that, if he hadn't had those flames on him, he wouldn't have survived passing through that fire. He glanced behind him to Lina, feeling alarmed when he noticed a fading smirk on her face.

A roar echoed from the other side of the room, and two demons emerged from the fireplaces that were pressed against the walls. He unsheathed his weapons quickly and charged, hoping to make short work of them whilst he still had the strength to do so. It exploded after several hits, sending lava flying through the room they were in. His shield protected his face and torso, though he did feel the searing heat of it as it melted through the metal of his kneepad. Tamlen glanced quickly to Lina, doing a double-take when he saw the pile of ice in front of her.

"What did you do?"

"No, no, you don't want to know." Lina answered with a wry grin, and walked swiftly towards the other door in the room. She kicked it open and paused when she heard the sound of spells being cast. A green mirror was pulled from her pack and held to the doorway, being used to reflect what was happening in the other room for them. To their surprise, five mages were inside and determined to kill each other.

"Use your bow and cover me from this side of the fire." Once again, Tamlen had barely time to reply before she was off, burning and rotting and on the other side of the barrier before he could blink. Both her daggers were hurled through the air towards two casting mages, and both managed to hit their targets. One of the mages died instantly, and the other was pinned against the wall with the dagger sunk into his stomach. Lina raced through the room as fast as she could, tugging her dagger from one dead mage and slaughtering the other one as she removed her second dagger. Several spells whizzed by her head, one narrowly missing her as the heat of a fireball hit her cheek. Lina noticed, as one mage accidentally killed another whilst aiming for her, that no arrows were being directed to either of the remaining two.

"A little help here, please!" Lina didn't look behind her as she shouted, but instead felt her entire body suddenly feel as though it were encased in jelly as a mage cast a misdirection hex on her. Behind her, she could vaguely hear a sword clashing against crusted lava, followed quickly by Tamlen's voice.

"I'm a little busy!" At this, Lina braved a quick glance. She felt her insides drop when she saw Tamlen engaged in combat with two more demons. She didn't waste time attempting to attack the two mages who were aiming spell after spell at her despite their close proximity; she would only miss and waste her energy.

Eventually, however, after a mage nearly shattered her leg by icing it and then sending a stone fist towards her, Lina changed into the burning man and centred a fireball directly in between herself and the mages. The three of them were blasted across the room; the mages died before they'd even hit the floor. Lina lost her focus, and found herself changing back to her elven form before she too had hit the floor. Her head whacked off the concrete floor with a crack, and the skin split almost instantly. Blood ran from the wound, drenching the back of her hair as a stinging pain shot through her skull and a headache started to stir up.

Lina cringed as she heard Tamlen's hiss of pain as he jumped through the flames to get to her. Thankfully, some form of the cooling effect from earlier seemed to have stayed, since although he felt as though he'd been burned there were no actual marks on him. He skidded to a halt next to her, kneeling to the floor and tugging her pack from her belt.

"Where's the rest of that poultice?" Tamlen all but demanded from her, and Lina sat up shakily as she shook her head.

"I'm fine; we'd just be wasting it if we were to use it." Although she did indeed sound find, the swaying that came after the sentence cemented any doubts that Tamlen had as he pulled the poultice from the pack and uncapped it. Lina struggled as he parted her hair at the back of her head, and winced when he plastered the poultice on her cut. She mourned at the likely amount of grease that would form in her hair from the application, and then scolded herself for being concerned about her hair during such a crisis.

They waited for a few minutes to catch their breath back, with Tamlen examining his legs and arms for any burns. Tamlen helped Lina to her feet, watching as she dangerously swayed for a moment or two.

"If you ever do something like that again…" Tamlen started, looking unimpressed as he addressed her. "Then I will kill you. If you'd have died then... the blight would never end." It was an awkward end to his words, and Lina caught the fleeting impression that he had been trying to say something else. She tossed him a grin, shrugging before picking her blades up from where they had fallen and walking briskly towards the other door. She slipped in and out in the mouse form, and when she returned with her golden tail in the air, Tamlen raised an eyebrow at her. When she dismissed the form and became herself again, she looked far from happy.

"_More _mages! You'll have to get the ones at the back with your bow, and I'll take care of the three closest to the door." Tamlen gave her a nod, and Lina waited for him to nock an arrow in his bow before she changed into the burning man.

As a fireball was sent towards the three mages, Tamlen had the fleeting thought that his clanmate did _love _her entrances.


	12. New Form

**A/N:** Hey, here's the next, **rewritten **chapter! Bit of a change here, namely the erasing of the childishness of Tamlen & Lina. It made me cringe.

* * *

"Lina! Hurry up!" Tamlen's words were hissed through clenched teeth, full of trepidation as a blade was pressed to his neck.

"I _can't_! What if it's Leliana?"

"Are you out of your _mind_? We didn't bring Leliana to the circle!" The woman holding the blade was clearly trying to hold him hostage. She was doing it terribly, and Tamlen usually would be able to get out of it himself, but her blade was starting to nick the skin _and _Lina had her bow trained on them. If he made a sudden movement and got out of her hold, Lina might have become startled and he'd likely find himself with an arrow in his neck.

Moving was a _no_. Tamlen tried to edge his neck away, watching as Lina hesitated once more. Blood trickled down his neck, and the moment that Lina's eyes locked onto it, the arrow in her bow was slicing through the air towards the fade woman's throat. Blood from the impact splashed onto Tamlen's face, but the woman was already falling to the floor, choking on blood. The blade left Tamlen's throat, completely forgotten as the woman clawed at his legs. Tamlen kicked her in the back of the head, knocking her unconscious as she bled out on the floor. Her blood turned black, and Tamlen gave Lina a pointed look as she observed the, now dead, Leliana look alike. Lina's guilty grin disappeared at the annoyed look Tamlen threw her.

"Don't _ever _do that again." He gingerly pressed two fingers to the small cut on his throat, thankful when the action didn't cause him any pain. It couldn't have been a deep cut, but its mere existence was enough to make him angry at Lina. She took a hesitant step forward.

"Do what?" Lina looked slightly offended, but she could understand why Tamlen was angry at her.

"_Hesitate_." Tamlen all but hissed the words through his teeth as Lina slung her bow over her shoulder, and they moved closer to the panting man in the middle of the room. Lina noticed that he seemed terribly _flaky_, and his skin seemed to crack in every place possible.

"Thank you… I have seen too much of this place to stay here. You… take my strength. I can only hope it is of some use to you." The mage held his hand out to touch Tamlen's cheek, and transferred as much of his strength as he could before he faded completely. Tamlen, having not yet let go of his anger at Lina, immediately changed into a rather large golem. Lina took a cautious step back once she realised this, and had to move back even more so she could look at him without straining her neck.

Tamlen was utterly _stunned_. He'd always been tall for an elf, but suddenly ending up ten feet tall made him slightly disorientated. He tried to open his mouth to speak, and consequently panicked when he found he had no jaw to open his mouth. His throat and mouth felt like they were stuffed with stone and solid rock, and this made him more agitated than it should have done. Where were his _teeth_? Lina stepped forwards once more, and placed a hand on his stone arm. He didn't even _feel _it.

"Tamlen, calm down." Tamlen glared down at her, and a brief smirk flashed across her face before she composed herself and gave him a serious look. A small giggle choked out from between her lips, and at the sound Tamlen wondered how easy it would be to pick her up whilst she was inferior and _crush _her.

_Whoa_, where had _that _come from? Tamlen's mind came to a halt at the violent thought, and he started to sincerely hope that such negative thoughts came _with _the form. He became distracted when he noticed that Lina had attempted to grasp his now-large, stone hand in her own, and had started to stand on her tiptoes.

"Tamlen, listen to me. Get a very clear image of you being elven again. Don't let anything in this room distract you, simply think of being _you _again. Go on, close your eyes." Lina's voice was cautious and gentle, and for the next few moments he could hear only her soft breathing as he attempted to change _back_. After a few seconds, the hold of the hand that was grasping his became tighter, stronger, and he could feel the warmth of Lina's hand through her gloves. Tamlen's eyes flew open, and he promptly let out a breath of relief when Lina's head was only a few inches below his, and not five feet below. Her hold on his hand lingered, and she gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go.

"You did it!" She was repressing the urge to spontaneously embrace him, he could tell, so instead he gripped her shoulder lightly in his hand and started to lead her towards the door.

"I guess I did. But what _was _that?" He quickly glanced back at her, and frowned at her raised eyebrow and the flicker of disbelief in her midnight eyes.

"That, my friend, is shape shifting. It's how I changed into the mouse, and the other forms. I think you triggered your form because you were angry with me." She looked guilty once more, and Tamlen rolled his eyes in order to make her grin. Instead of simply smiling, she positively _beamed_.

"By the Creators, if I could stay angry at you for _an hour _at least, it would be a _miracle_." He sighed. "I'm not sure I like the whole idea of changing shape. It belongs to _mages_, and mages _only_." Lina gave him a sympathetic look, and followed him as he opened the door.

"You'll have to get used to it, Tam."

* * *

"Tamlen! Try _harder_!" Lina yelled as loudly as she could, ducking a powerful blow from yet _another _stone golem. Its fist embedded itself into the wall directly where her head had just been, and Lina gave it a horrified look before rolling to the side. It seemed, to her at least, that this part of the fade _forced _one to be a golem to have any chance of survival. With a wry grin, Lina pondered on how unlucky it was that _Tamlen _had the golem form. He hadn't _quite _gotten used to the strange shape shifting, and as such was having problems changing into the form.

"I can't!" Lina barely heard his voice over the whoosh of wind that came with the golem swinging for her once more. Its giant fist clipped her in the side and sent her flying towards the wall. Lina groaned as the wind was knocked out of her. Tamlen had, very briefly, flickered into the form at her being in danger, but was back to himself again when Lina's groan had hit his ears. Lina crawled between the moving golem's legs, casting a quick morose glance at her shattered Dar'Missan before Tamlen pulled her forward and to her feet.

"Change _right now_ or Creators help me, I will _make _you change!" Lina whispered harshly before she threw Tamlen and herself to the side. The golem's fist narrowly missed them, and Lina quickly made up her mind on what to do. "I'm terribly sorry, Tamlen. This is the fastest way I can make you angry."

Tamlen didn't have a single chance to respond or ask just _why _she was apologising when Lina's knee connected with his groin. His vision flickered, with white spots dotting his vision as pain and annoyance coursed through him.

"_Creators_, what the-" Tamlen didn't get the chance to finish his sentence, as his mouth suddenly felt like chalk and his body responded to the pain in kind. Not a second later, he had changed into the golem form. Lina ducked from where she was standing before him just in time to avoid the stone fist that connected with Tamlen's abdomen. The golem-Tamlen simply swayed uneasily, and Lina patted him gently before she rolled completely out of the way. Soon, however, Lina found herself pressed against the wall as the two golems fought, desperately trying to dodge any stray swings.

Quickly, with a tinge of urgency, Lina changed into the strange spirit-like form she had acquired, and promptly froze the smaller of the two golems. Tamlen then hit it so fiercely that it completely shattered, and Lina had to close her eyes to avoid getting chips of frozen stone in them. The lack of concentration meant she had turned back into an elf before Tamlen had turned around.

"No, don't change back yet, Tamlen. You need to open that door!" Lina's voice was urgent, and had the golem-Tamlen had eyes that weren't little black rocks, she'd have been certain he'd have rolled his eyes. She ignored him, watching with an odd expression of admiration as Tamlen _punched _a hole through the door. He then kicked the remaining parts of the shattered wood in, until the hole was big enough for both himself and Lina to duck through.

No sooner than the hole had been made, however, did Tamlen change back to an elf. Lina grinned, and for a moment Tamlen seemed oddly perplexed as he stared at her. Suddenly, his face twisted into a portrait of pain, and he keeled forward and crossed his arms over his abdomen as he groaned.

"Was planting your boot in my groin truly necessary?" Tamlen hissed at her through his teeth, slowly turning red from the pain that hadn't actually hit him until he'd changed back. Lina whispered a hushed apology to him, glancing quickly behind her and cursing loudly. Tamlen looked up at her, stopping his own rant of elvish curses, and raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Slavren. He's on the other side of the door. And he certainly does _not _look happy that you've punched his door in."

* * *

Lina's knuckles, she was certain, were likely stark white as the fade pedestal _finally _stopped spinning, along with the surroundings. The ground shook beneath her feet, as though the pedestal itself was trying to shake them off. Tamlen let go of the pedestal the moment it stopped, immediately rubbing his temples and complaining about an oncoming headache. Lina had to push down the urge to vomit, and instead took deep, steady breaths until the urge dissipated.

"I can't believe you wanted to leave Alistair in his nightmare. Definitely not fair!" Lina ground out, steadying herself and giving a pleased smile when her knees didn't buckle.

"What? He'd die happy!" Tamlen's defence was sarcastic, but any reply Lina had for him was cut off by the appearance of the Sloth Demon. He had a strange look on his face that made Tamlen think that the demon seemed almost _sad _that they'd escaped. Lina's bow was automatically drawn and an arrow nocked, however the Sloth Demon made no motion to show he'd noticed it.

"What do we have here? Two rebellious minions? Escaped slaves? Oh, but you sure do have some _gall_. Playtime, however, is over. You both need to go back now." The sloth demon gave a long, creepy laugh as he spoke, but stopped abruptly at a crackling sound behind them. Lina turned in time to spot Alistair and Wynne appearing behind them.

"Enough demon! You sought to trap us here, but we found each other. Together you _cannot_stop us!" Wynne's voice rang out first, with an unusual strength to it that was completely unexpected to Lina.

"Aha! There you both are! I wondered where you had got to." Alistair's voice was oddly high pitched, but Lina put it down to his embarrassment at falling for his trap. The sloth demon made a small noise to grab Lina and Tamlen's attention once more, and he spoke again.

"If you go back quietly, I'll do better this time. I'll make you both much happier. I'll give you _each other_." The tone in Sloth's voice was heavy and full of implications, and Lina felt herself go pink against her will. Tamlen didn't notice, as his eyes had narrowed in Sloth's direction. Lina spoke first.

"I don't want… I want to be _free_ of you!"

"We are Dalish, Sloth. We do not bow down even to the humans, much less a demon!" Tamlen's eyes burned, and Lina got the impression that he _knew _a fight was coming.

"Can't you think about someone other than yourselves? I'm so _very_hurt." Lina squirmed inside her armour at the demons voice, and quickly stamped her foot to make a point.

"No! I refuse to become your life supply!" With that being said, Lina let loose the arrow in her bow, and watched as it cut through the air towards the abdominal area of the Sloth demon. The demon roared in anger before summoning all his power, and Lina barely felt Tamlen grab her and drag her backwards as the demon sent forth a massive blast of energy from his mind.

"You wish to battle me? So be it... You will learn to bow to your betters, mortal!" The Sloth changed before their eyes into a large rage demon, and Lina heard Tamlen and Alistair unsheathe their swords almost instantaneously. Wynne readied her staff and started to murmur small incantations that Lina couldn't hear.

Lina changed immediately into the burning man to resist the fireballs that were already being sent her way. Readying her bow again, Lina edged around the sides of the area they were in and shot arrows at every available chance. Tamlen and Alistair deflected blows, ran in and stabbed at the demon before retreating away from the fireballs. Tamlen was intent on not using the Golem form unless absolutely necessary. Wynne stayed at the side as their healer, but focused mainly on the two tanks taking all the damage.

The battle went on much the same, for Lina anyway, although it wasn't long before her arms ached and she was running out of arrows. Wynne occasionally sent bursts of regeneration her way, but the mage was running out of Mana quickly and needed to use it on Alistair and Tamlen. It forced Lina to focus more on her movements than her aim. It took only a few lazy shots until the now-ogre sloth turned at her and roared, grabbing the nearest inanimate thing and throwing it towards her. Unluckily for Lina, it was a boulder. It skimmed her arm, but the speed made her turn around instinctively to watch where it was going. The boulder hit the part of the island behind her and bounced off again, hitting her square in the chest and knocking her to the ground.

There was a loud, sharp 'crack' that echoed silently around the area, being the immediate result of Lina's already-injured head hitting a jutting piece of rock on the ground. Tamlen noticed, out of the corner of his eye, his clanmate fall to the ground, and only Alistair pushing him to the side allowed him to avoid a well aimed fist from the demon. She seemed to be breathing slowly, and Tamlen _knew _that that amount of blood in her bright blonde hair was _not _a good thing. He wanted to go help her, but as if he could detect the elf's thoughts, Alistair shook his head.

"She's not dead, but unconscious. If you go to help her, you risk killing us all!" Alistair held his sword out in front of him as another swing was aimed at them, and purely by accident did he slice the hand from the ogre-demon. Black blood sprayed onto the two of them, and both men tried to hold back a gag at the taste. Tamlen nodded at Alistair in understanding, however, and they both prepared for another onslaught.

Wynne, worn and tired out, sent small bursts of health towards Lina to patch up whatever wound on her head that was causing her to bleed. It wasn't enough to wake her up, unfortunately. She kept an eye on the small blonde elf, looking in her direction every few seconds to check she was still alive. It wasn't until Alistair finally stabbed his sword into the demon's gut and Tamlen sliced off its head did she stop looking. The three conscious beings all stopped to catch their breath, rubbing at the blood, sweat and dirt that was running down their faces. Wynne had her hands on her knees as she took deep, controlled breaths so she couldn't keel over.

Tamlen recovered quickly, coughing up some blood and spitting it to the floor before he searched for his clanmate. He found her where she had fallen, and quickly pulled her up of the floor and gently threaded his fingers through her hair to find the wound. The moment that his fingers brushed over the broken bone, Lina stirred. A pain-filled moan was all that escaped her before she was unconscious once more. Tamlen shook his head.

"Creators, Lina, you're a _beacon _for head wounds."


	13. Influenza

**A/N**: Here's the next **rewritten **chapter! I really contemplated getting rid of this one all together; I hate their childishness, but I think I've managed to tone it down at bit!

* * *

"I'm warning you, young man. This is not a good idea." The voice, sharp and precise, drifted into Lina's tent, and partially roused her from her sleep. They'd only arrived back at the camp a few hours previously, and although human courtesy would have had Lina welcoming their newest companion and making sure the woman settled into her tent nicely, Lina had all but collapsed into her own tent before she'd had the chance to do so. It wasn't as though their newest companion was injured, either; in fact, if the total _lack _of scars and injuries on her body was anything to go by, then Lina was certain that she'd be a _permanent _helper whenever two or more of them needed to venture off.

"Relax; I used to do this all the time back in the clan. I nearly flooded the aravel, once." The last sentence kicked something awake in Lina's mind, and she slowly started to string together the many scenarios in which her shared aravel had flooded. Her mind, groggily, recognised the two voices along with the _only _explanation of something having been done 'all the time' and her eyes flew open. Lina tried to will her body to _move_, but it did not do so in time.

A bucket of water, ice cold but thankfully clean, was dumped over her head and upper body. The water soaked through her tunic, biting her skin like knives and sending several shivers down her spine as the water dripped down onto her legs. Instantly, she was fully awake and incredibly _angry_, and a quick glance at the tent entrance caused her eyes to narrow. Tamlen was stood with a cocky grin on his face, and the offending bucket was still in his hands with a few droplets of water lingering on the sides. Wynne was stood behind him, clucking her tongue at the dirty-blond elf and attempting to get past him into Lina's tent. At the raising of the younger elf's eyebrow, there was a snicker and Tamlen had disappeared from the tent entrance.

Only the bucket had been left behind, to impede her exit.

"Tamlen!" Her voice held several tones of annoyance and anger, and Lina jumped to her feet and left her tent swiftly. With her fingers wrapping around the thin handle of the empty bucket, she stood next to a worried Wynne and judged the distance between herself and Tamlen. He'd run, perhaps unwisely, towards the edge of the small pool of water next to Bodahn's cart. Lina had, a few days before they entered the tower, placed her tent on the other side of the wagon, and it took only a few steps before she had walked around the cart.

Carefully, Lina raised her arm and launched the bucket towards Tamlen the moment he realised she was standing near him. He dodged it easily, and for a moment there was an almost unbearable look of victory on his face as it sailed past him. It changed to one of surprise and then horror, however, when he misplaced his footing after dodging the bucket and promptly fell backwards into the small pool.

Breaking the surface a second later, Tamlen coughed up dregs of water and lamented his unneeded bath. The water was certainly colder than he'd thought it would be, but that didn't stop him from narrowing his eyes at a smirking Lina. She had moved closer to the edge of the pool, and she kicked his boot lightly before grinning at him.

"I'd _really _stop doing that, were I you. Oh, and I think I saw a few leeches in the water last night. Just a friendly warning!" Tamlen, instantaneously attempted to get out of the water, but only succeeded in slipping and falling _back _into it with a splash. At Lina's cackle, he realised he'd just been fooled.

Lina only threw him a wink before she left the pool's edge, allowing the elderly mage to properly inspect her for any remaining injuries.

* * *

"I feel… odd."

Lina's complaint wasn't really _worth_ an answer from _anyone_. They were all walking slowly along the road, dragging a range of things from camping equipment to weapons, and everyone was simply too tired to focus on anything but their breathing. Well, everyone but Wynne, who was only carrying a spare staff and a sack of everyone's night clothes. Lina sniffled, and attempted to wipe at her nose with her gauntlet. She only succeeded in hurting her nose, however.

"Seriously, I feel like I'm _leaking_." She shook her head as she sniffled again, and she glanced sideways at Wynne. Her limbs had been aching and feeling terribly heavy since the previous morning, when she had been roughly awakened with the bucket of water, and her head felt as though several dwarves were pounding away at it with their hammers. Wynne tutted.

"It is your own fault that you, _and _your clanmate, are sick."

"He doesn't seem to be half as bad as I am!" Lina complained, her voice raising slightly and catching the attention of Tamlen. He walked closer to the two females, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Of course he doesn't. He just has the common cold. _You_, my dear, have caught the influenza." As she spoke, Wynne suddenly felt very wary at the extremely dark look that passed across Lina's face.

"Can't you cure it?"

"Of course. But I'm not going to. You would have been fine had Tamlen not doused you in pond water, and the same vice versa. You've both brought this on yourselves." At her words, Lina gave a simple nod and lagged behind, suddenly in no mood to talk to the woman. Wynne clucked her tongue. "Is she sulking?"

"No." Tamlen looked unsettled as he glanced back to Lina. "You've simply… told her what she didn't want to hear."

"Which was what, young man?" Wynne's voice held its usual concern, as well as a tinge of worry. Tamlen shook his head at her.

"It's to do with the Dalish. The common cold affects everyone, including the Dalish. But Influenza is one of the viruses that, as a result of our isolation, the Dalish were able to develop an immunity to. We've been around humans too long, it seems. I think she thought that the taint would stop us quickening." Tamlen himself seemed oddly edgy, but Wynne pressed on.

"Quickening?"

"We Dalish have a much longer lifespan than humans. The youngest elder in our own clan was just over one-hundred and thirty years old. There are much, much older elves in other clans. But if we stay around humans for _too _long, our blood quickens and we age just as fast as the humans and the city elves. It is…disconcerting." Tamlen heard Wynne's small intake of breath, and started to grow annoyed at her prodding.

"How old are you? How old is the warden?" Wynne took a quick glance over to Lina, who was studying the ground intensely as they walked. Tamlen coughed into his hand to get her attention once more.

"We're practically _children _in the Clan. Hunters, yes, but still young. And we'll still be young when the taint…" Tamlen trailed off as the realisation of what would happen to them finally hit him hard. He _wouldn't _be young if he survived the thirty years; being around the humans had made it so that he would be middle-aged in Human years. As if sensing his thoughts, Wynne placed a hand onto his shoulder. He shrugged it off roughly.

The mage frowned. Her comfort, it seemed, was neither wanted nor welcomed.

* * *

_Zevran_

A smile. Seductive, sweet, and his signature expression, it was tossed towards the blonde woman who was standing before him. She looked him up and down, lust clearly reflecting in her eyes as she handed him her staff to hide. She smiled back at him, unfortunately falling prey to his easy charms, and nodded a confirmation. The woman turned to head up the road, and Zevran imagined that she had a perfect look of false surprise on her features as she headed up the road to draw in his target.

The human would die, no doubt about that.

The assassins hiding with him gave several smirks and chuckles; unbeknownst to them, they too would die. They were expendable, and Zevran knew all too well that Grey Wardens were exceptionally hard to kill. They didn't end blights on _luck_, after all.

His eyes, honey-shaded and sharp, locked onto the human mage returning down the road. The Warden he needed was behind her, and it took one quick motion for his fellow assassins to take their hiding places behind the torched caravans.

A white-haired human female came into his view last, lagging at the back. She was a mage, it seemed, if her robes were anything to go by, and she was walking alongside a provocatively dressed dark-haired human. The dark-haired human, too, was a mage. The third figure was male, the only one judging by the looks of things, and there was no mistaking his ears even at a distance. Dirty-blond hair was short enough to show the tips of elven ears, and his dark tattoos marked him as a Dalish. He looked young, incredibly so, but Zevran had had enough experience with the Dalish to know that the elf could be much older than he looked. The final traveller, and likely the Warden he was looking for, was walking alongside the other elf, and Zevran felt a small quiver of surprise pass through him.

He was _not _expecting a female elf to be the one he was targeting. He knew she was the Warden; the way she walked and held herself, with an air of commanding confidence was enough to ascertain that. Her eyes were on the human's back, as though she were gauging the best place to plant her dagger. Bright blonde hair framed her young face, cropped short with a few bands placed in it here and there to stop it from looking _too _plain. Zevran decided her face was a pretty one, and that he would preserve it for a few hours after the death of the others. Grey Warden or no, he was allowed his pleasures where he wanted them, yes?

The male elf, though; judging by his mere attitude around the Warden, he could tell that that one would be trouble. He'd need to finish him off first before going for the Warden.

Slowly, the other assassins moved from their hiding places to stand in position, with several of them drawing their bows and nocking an arrow or two, The elderly mage, as if sensing the danger, activated the thrum of magic in her staff and cast a spell on the two elves. The dark-haired woman narrowed her eyes as the dirty-blond elf unsheathed his sword, and the Warden paused momentarily as she observed her surroundings. She noticed the tree trunk long before she should have done, and her voice rang out a warning that had them moving out of its range before it had a chance to fall. None of them were killed, as they should have been, and Zevran felt his first stab of frustration.

Either way, they were trapped. It would be a fight to the death for both sides.

It seemed, to Zevran, to be getting much more interesting than Loghain had informed him it would be. Zevran watched in amusement at the flicker of annoyance on the Warden's face as he stepped out from behind one of the caravans. He could _feel _her eyes rolling at him. Unsheathing his daggers, he shouted,

"The Grey Wardens die here!"


	14. The Assassin

**A/N**: **Rewritten** but not a lot of differences in this! Lina's a bit more sweeter towards Tamlen at the end, but only in her thoughts as he sleeps.

* * *

Lina moved out of her stealth from the shadows, both Dar'Misu's in her hand and a chuckle releasing in the back of her throat as she stabbed one assassin in the back of the neck, twirling in motion and ramming her other Dar'Misu into another's ribs. Both froze mid-swing of their daggers, one of them barely an inch away from her face. She started, surprised, and quickly darted her attention to another assassin further along the ledge with an arrow nocked in his bow. Hoping to avoid his attention, she moved quickly along the ledge to try to prevent him shooting more arrows in Tamlen's direction.

Pushing her Dar'Misu into the middle of his back, she gave a cackle and kicked him forward off her sword. Her sharp laugh rang through the air loud enough to distract the blond elven assassin who was locking swords with Tamlen. His head turned to the side for a fraction of a second, allowing Tamlen to bash his shield down hard onto the elf's face.

A crunch echoed through the air and blood immediately gushed down the elf's face. In shock at the strength of the blow, he stumbled backwards and Tamlen used the curve in his Dar'Missan to his advantage. He hooked his sword around the back of the assassin's knees and gave a smirk before pulling it forward. The curve in the sword brought the elf falling to the floor as his knees went under him, and Tamlen moved to slice his sword across the assassin's throat.

"No don't!" Lina's sharp cry from the ledge halted Tamlen as he readied his sword, and in response he slammed his foot onto the assassin's stomach to keep him down and looked up at her.

_"Why not?"_

"I want to interrogate him! You can kill him later!" Lina nodded to herself as she spoke, accepting Tamlen's silence as a confirmation that he wouldn't kill the assassin. Jumping to the top of a caravan and then to the ground, she rolled out of the way of an arrow and out of Tamlen's sight. He turned back to the struggling assassin beneath him, noticing idly that he was starting to choke on the blood that was now running back up his nose and into the back of his throat. Tamlen rolled him over, kicking him hard in the ribs and then putting a foot back on the elf's back. Wynne and Morrigan took care of the last assassin and the mage, and the four of them moved to congregate around the elven assassin.

Lina took rope from her pack and bound the assassin's legs, ordering Morrigan to take all his weapons from his person. Morrigan gave a smirk at the hidden dagger on the inside of the elf's thigh, and tossed it to the side with a knowing look. Tamlen turned the elf back over and poured water from his drinking satchel over his face to clear the blood and startle him awake. The blond spluttered and moved to sit up, falling back to the ground at Tamlen's foot pressing into his midriff. Lina pulled Tamlen back behind her to allow the assassin to sit up, but he merely rolled onto his stomach and looked up at Lina.

"Eugh... I rather thought I would wake up dead... or not wake up at all as the case may be... But I see you haven't killed me, _yet_." He pushed some of his hair from his eyes and stared up at her, looking dizzy and in a _lot _of pain.

"That can change. _Very quickly_. I want questions answered." Lina locked eyes with the elf, noting his honey coloured eyes and wincing when a single word echoed around her head: _Handsome_.

"So I am to be interrogated is it? Allow me to save you some time. My name is Zevran... Zev, to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens." He paused and added, "Which I have failed at, sadly." He grinned up at her, causing Lina to roll her eyes at his optimism. Even _she_wouldn't be this perky if captured.

"I'm rather happy you failed."

"So would I be, in your shoes. For me it sets a rather poor precedent, doesn't it? Getting captured by a target is a tad detrimental to ones budding assassin career, isn't it?" Zevran grimaced to himself a little, and Lina crossed her arms to hide her wonder. He didn't _seriously_think he could talk his way out of this, did he? She raised her eyebrow at him, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard of the crows out here. In Antiva, we're rather infamous." Zevran nodded a little as he spoke, looking past Lina to Tamlen. Tamlen shot him a scathing look, prompting Zevran to gingerly press his fingers to his broken nose.

"Not for being good assassins, I see." Tamlen ground out, watching as Zevran closely as he feigned offence.

"Oh fine, is _that _what you Ferelden's do? Mock your prisoners? Such cruelty!" Lina turned her head and grinned at Tamlen's groan of annoyance, before shaking her head and glaring at the elf, ready to question him further. She was rather taken aback at the revelation that Loghain sent him. Framing them for the death of the king was one thing, but to send an assassin after them when he _knew _they were innocent? She jerked back to attention when the elf asked to join her.

"Of course I'll let you join! Then, at the very first chance you get, I'll let you slit my throat, or poison my food, or something equally as gruesome." She clapped her hands together in false enthusiasm, prompting a scowl from the assassin.

"What is to stop you from finishing the job later?" Morrigan put in, leaning lazily on her staff with a powerful fire spell at the ready.

Lina blocked out the ramble on Zevran telling them he'd been sold as a child, and only listened to his talking of warning them should another attack come. She frowned.

"You really must think I am royally stupid." Zevran raised an eyebrow at her, shaking his head.

"I think you're royally tough to kill. And _utterly _gorgeous. But there are worse things in life than serving the whims of a _deadly_sex goddess." Lina blushed heavily at his words and turned away. Tamlen subtly stepped closer to the elf and 'accidentally' stepped down hard on his fingers. Zevran held back a hiss of pain, and Lina hid a grin and pretended not to notice it.

"Why would I want your service?"

"Why? Because I am skilled at many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could also stand around and look pretty, if you prefer...Warm your bed? Fend off unwanted suitors, no?" Tamlen slowly and inconspicuously shifted his weight to his left leg –the one that was on Zevran's hand – and became interested in the burning caravan, smirking when a loud crack echoed through the air. The assassin bit back a yelp, attempting to pull his hand from under Tamlen's boot but to no avail. Tamlen only forced his weight down harder to the floor, causing the assassin great pain. Still, he looked to the caravan intently, convincing even Wynne that he wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary.

"Very well, I accept your offer." Tamlen whipped his head around to look at Lina in shock, eyes narrowed at her. He stepped closer to her, and Zevran took the opportunity to snap his hand back and cradle it to his chest.

"What? You're bringing _this thing _with us? He just tried to kill us!" Tamlen hissed at Lina, watching as she bent down to untie rope around Zevran's ankles.

"Don't worry... If he tries anything..." Lina used the knife in midair to demonstrate slitting of a throat, and Zevran winced inwardly at the motion.

"A fine plan... But I would examine your food and drink a little more closely from now on, were I you." Zevran looked over at Morrigan, a sly, confident grin on his face.

"That's excellent advice for anyone!" He opened his mouth to say something else, but cut short when Lina pulled both his wrists behind his back and tied them again without giving a care for his broken fingers.

"I may let you live, but I'm not giving you your weapons _or_the use of your hands." Lina muttered to him, eyes locked with his own as she tied the knot three times over. Zevran tutted quietly, confident that her trust could be earned. Lina looked over at Wynne with a small smirk and pointed to Zevran's face with a slender finger, nearly poking him in the eye as she did so.

Wynne cast a small spell, and Zevran immediately felt his nose tingle and warm up, the broken bone crunching back into place. Lina left his side once Wynne had cast the spell, handed Tamlen a dagger and muttered into his ear before looking for the path that led to the camp.

Tamlen moved into step behind Zevran, and the assassin immediately felt the cold metal of the blade on the back of his neck. Tamlen pushed him forwards to follow Lina, Morrigan and Wynne, with his spare hand holding the knots on the rope that bound Zevran's wrists together.

"Don't try anything funny..." Tamlen muttered into his ear as they followed the three women along the road. Zevran threw his head back and chuckled in revelation. Turning his head slightly to look at Tamlen, he grinned as his thoughts were proven right at the direction of Tamlen's gaze.

"Ah, my friend, I see you have intentions to bed the lovely little leader, yes?"

"Call me friend one more time, and I'll break your nose, _again_." Tamlen ground out through his teeth, giving Zevran a push forward.

"A yes, then? I'd move quickly, were I you, I can't promise I can keep my hands to myself." Zevran used the right words, and Tamlen resisted plunging the dagger into his neck and instead simply kept pushing him forward.

"You know, I hear it's very painful to have a broken jaw. Keep baiting me, and you'll soon find out _how _painful it really is." With that, Tamlen smacked Zevran up the back of his head and continued to shove him along the path, grateful that the assassin had finally shut up.

* * *

"You know, you are the _only _person I know who could leave to help travellers and come back with an assassin hired to _kill _us." Alistair muttered under his breath, eyes on Zevran as he glared at him from across the fire. Lina rolled her eyes and smiled at Alistair, before casting her eyes over to look at Zevran. He was sat on the log next to Leliana, staring into the fire and looking bored. More likely, he was trying to ignore the longing looks Leliana was sending towards his hair. Unfortunately, the bard was wondering if it was as soft as it looked.

Tamlen sat on the other side of Zevran, his body shifted so he could eat and still be able to notice if Zevran tried anything. Lina had, foolishly in his mind, untied the rope from his wrists to give the cuts and bruises on them from the rope some air and a chance to heal. She hadn't offered him a poultice, nor had she told Wynne to fix his broken fingers - something Tamlen was all too happy about.

In truth, out of all those in camp, only two were willing to talk to him at the moment: Leliana and Duster. The former rambled on about Orlais. The latter didn't talk, simply deposited dog drool into his lap.

Lina turned and moved from the log to her bedroll, looking at the maps in wonder as she used the compass to mark her position. They were two days walk away from Redcliffe, and then after that, _hopefully _they'd get to the Dalish. Orzammar was labelled in the corner, and Lina wondered if it would be easier to go to Orzammar after Redcliffe. It would certainly be quicker. It could take them _weeks _to find the Dalish, and that was _with_ Tamlen's tracking skills on hand.

"I suppose I don't really have a choice, do I?" Lina sighed to herself, and rolled the map up to give her space to lay on her bedroll. She ignored the looks from others in the campsite as she tossed the map to the side. She lay awake for a good hour after most of the others had fallen asleep, until the only ones still awake were Sten and Duster for the evening watch.

She glanced over to her clan-mate, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she noticed his arm reaching out along the ground in her direction, as though he'd attempted to get her attention but had fallen asleep as he was doing so. His bedroll was only a few feet away, close enough that she could see the fluttering of his lashes as he slept. A blush spread across her cheeks as she realised that she'd much prefer to be closer to him, close enough that she could look up at his blond lashes and count the number of times they fluttered. Her blush deepened at the thought and, not for the first time, she knew she'd love to curl up next to the warmth of his body. Boldly, she stretched her arm out until her hand was loosely placed in his. Still smiling faintly, she closed her eyes and allowed his slow, regular breathing to lull her to sleep.

Until a loud scream from the surrounding forest ripped the camp from its slumber.


	15. Midnight conflict

**A/N**: **Rewritten**, as usual. Interlacing more romance into this from this point onwards to make the later giving of the rose seem like much more of a betrayal.

* * *

Lina bolted up in her bed at the scream, and the speed of her movement dragged Tamlen sideways as he jolted awake. Lina scanned the edges of the camp as everyone all but stumbled urgently out of their beds. Tamlen looked down at their entwined hands and raised an eyebrow at his clanmate. The blonde elf didn't notice until she turned to him, and she snapped her hand back with a deep blush spreading across her cheeks. She leapt up to her feet, searching for her Dar'Missan as Duster ran across the edges of the camp from her side, his hackles raised and teeth bared once he reached the eastern edge of the camp.

The group congregated around the campfire, with Alistair and Morrigan arguing over the source of the noise and everyone else standing alert and throwing their gaze around the edges of the forest. Only Duster stayed at the edge of the forest, and Lina kept an eye on her dog carefully as she moved between the humans gathered at the fire. Zevran stepped closer to them, his daggers firmly attached to their straps and his eyes bright. Lina doubted that the assassin had slept at all. Nevertheless, she spun on her heel and faced him.

"You! Did you have anything to do with that scream? Have you _led _assassins right back to my campsite?" She refrained from gripping the front of his armour to shake him roughly, instead settling with a glare as the assassin shook his head.

"I promise you, there are no assassins that I know of in the surrounding forest." His confidence dripped through his tone, and Lina found herself wondering if the assassin really _was _oblivious. She frowned.

"Get ready. I want you, Wynne and Leliana ready in three minutes to go into that forest. If you're lying to me, Creators help you…" Lina trailed off as Tamlen tugged at her wrist, pulling her away from the campfire and the bustling Leliana and Wynne, the former of which was tugging her armour on quickly.

"You're going off into the forest _after _whatever screamed?" His eyes were narrowed, his concern for Lina shining through them as he crossed his arms. Lina's shoulders slumped.

"If it's someone in danger, I should help them. If it's a lure, I'd rather deal with the threat now instead of being killed in my sleep by an archer." She smiled confidently at him, but Tamlen was not convinced. Knowing he couldn't deter her, he simply squeezed her shoulder as Leliana and Wynne made their way over to the small blonde elf.

"Be careful out there, Lethallan, I don't wish to be scraping you off the trees just because you were careless." At his words, Lina gave him a grin, saluted cockily, and made her way over to Duster and the forest's edge.

* * *

Lina and Leliana kept to the shadows as they travelled through the forest, and Lina made sure that Zevran was walking in the strips of moonlight that battled to get through the canopy overhead. She wanted _him _to be visible, and no one else. Wynne walked a few feet behind them, her staff at the ready as she followed. After a few minutes walk, the sound of male voices hit her elven ears, and as she glanced over to Zevran she realised he'd heard it too. Leliana and Wynne were still oblivious, their human ears not allowing them to pick up the voices just yet. Moving out the shadows, Lina pulled Leliana with her and stepped behind Zevran.

"You're going to walk out into the clearing ahead, alone, and I will be very close to you. If you are acknowledged as anything more than an armed traveller, I will kill you. My dagger," She pressed the small blade to the back of his neck, "Is hovering right here. Do not try _anything_." Zevran simply rolled his eyes at her, knowing for a fact that if there _were _Crows out there, he'd be gone in a heartbeat. The shadows behind him rippled as both Leliana and Lina slipped into them, and he felt a blade press to the back of his neck as someone started to slowly push him forward.

Odd, he thought idly, that the blade seemed bigger and the hand larger than it should have been for such a petite elf as Lina.

Leliana, having taking Lina's place as planned so that the blonde could edge around the clearing, hoped dearly that she wouldn't be seen as she took Lina's place next to Zevran and allowed him to think she was Lina.

Lina herself moved around the edges, weaving in and out of trees silently as she pricked her ears for the sound of human breathing. She caught sight of a male human a few trees away, an arrow nocked in a particularly nasty looking bow, and his eyes were fixed on Zevran. At the confused look on his face, she faltered momentarily, before clamping a hand over his mouth and slitting his throat. She slowly brought him down to the floor, dodging the arrow as it flew noiselessly into one of the surrounding trees.

Once she was certain he was dead she moved around again, heading quickly through the trees until she was facing Zevran, and another archer caught her gaze. She crept behind him, moving carefully in the shadows and hoping beyond all else that she wouldn't step on anything that would give off a crack. She stared at him, ready to do the same with him as she had the other archer, when a flash of red caught her eye and she darted her gaze to the clearing.

Leliana had lost her cover.

Lina halted her movements, her breaths quiet and slow as Zevran glanced behind him and frowned at the sight of Leliana next to him. Leliana herself looked surprised, and her eyes scanned the clearing to try and spot Lina to signal that the plan wasn't working. Wynne moved forwards into the clearing with Leliana and Zevran, seeing no point to hiding now that Leliana had revealed herself. A bandit, standing atop a small mountain ledge, moved forward with a grin on his face.

"Well, well, if it isn't the pretty little red head we were sent here to look for. How odd we should find you simply wandering around the forest. Poor girl. Get her, boys." At those words, Lina panicked and almost immediately shoved her blade into the neck of the archer before her. The quickness of the movement dragged her out of the shadows, and Lina forced herself to walk forward into the clearing half-covered in blood with a dagger held before her and her sword still strapped to her back. The human bandit raised his eyebrows in surprise at her appearance, and looked around the edges of the clearing to spot his archers.

"You won't find them, I've already killed them." Lina gave a sarcastic, apologetic look as she spoke, prompting the bandit to unsheathe his sword.

"You little knife-ear. I've still got three men, and they're more powerful than you common adventurers." With a sneer, the bandit jumped down from the small ledge, and the four of them stepped back as three more humans followed him.

Leliana immediately switched from her dagger to her bow when the fighting broke out, and directly aimed all of her arrows towards the leader of the bandits. The staunch determination on her face caused Lina to believe that perhaps there was an actual reason as to _why _these bandits seemed to have been sent after her. Zevran circled Leliana, protecting her from the bandit with the twin daggers with his own longsword and dagger. Wynne froze both the bandit attacking Zevran and the bandit immediately behind the first one, and Zevran happily took the opportunity to ram his sword into them to shatter them completely.

Lina rolled to the ground as the third bandit swung for her head, avoiding it so closely that she could feel the small breeze as it sailed above her head. Her stomach lurched, and instinctively she held her sword up to block another blow from the bandit. The recoil from blocking the sword vibrated up her arm and almost caused her to drop the Dar'Missan, and Lina rolled sideways before leaping back to her feet and narrowly avoided another swing. Adrenaline coursed through her body as, almost like she was a child once more, Lina swung her sword around with all her might. The curved edge of the sword cut straight through armour and flesh, and she gave a nervous laugh as she struggled to pull her sword back from the man's waist.

Leliana had moved closer to the leader, Zevran by her side, and she used her bow to deflect a swing aimed for her midriff. Nocking another arrow, she let it fly towards the man's kneecap and merely jumped in the air when the bandit swung his sword to connect with her knees. Zevran sidestepped the back end of the swing, and manoeuvred his dagger as it swung instinctively to cut into the bandit leader's wrist. The man took a few steps back, only to be met with Lina's Dar'Misu looping around his neck and pulling tight against his throat. Just as she was about to drag it across his throat, Leliana grabbed her wrist.

"No, don't!"

* * *

Alistair looked up from the fire just as the four of them returned. He grimaced immediately at the sour look on Lina's face as she led the others back to camp, knowing instantly that whatever had happened in the forest wasn't good. Zevran followed on her heels –he frowned at this, clearly the elf hadn't been the source of the scream then- and Leliana trudged along at the back with Wynne's arm around her comfortingly. Her eyes were red and slightly puffy, and her bottom lip jutted out as though she'd been sobbing. Wynne looked to be muttering words to her under her breath. Alistair took a step backwards when Lina stepped over one of the logs around the fire and spun to face the rest of the camp. She whistled through her fingers, catching everyone's attention and prompting even Tamlen to leave his tent in alarm.

"Is everybody here, yes? Now, just to set the record straight, I would like to know immediately if any of you have a past that _may _or may not induce assassins coming after you." Her tone was angry, bordering on livid, and Tamlen stepped closer to her in wonder. She scowled at the silence.

"I'm taking your silence as a no. And if you _do _have such a past and you don't plan on letting me know, please, pack your bags and leave." When no one made a notion to move, Lina turned swiftly on her heel and marched towards her tent with an aura of total fury radiating from her. Alistair moved towards Wynne and Leliana to ask them what had happened, and Tamlen ran after Lina towards her tent. He caught the flap just before she was about to tie it shut, and grabbed her wrist tightly.

"Calm down, and tell me what happened." His tone was firm, but Lina only scowled at him and pulled her wrist back with all her strength. The movement surprised Tamlen, and rather than letting her go he lost his footing and tumbled forward into the tent. With half his body in the tent and half outside, Lina gave a snort and allowed him to pull his legs into the tent before she pulled the flap over.

"Leliana left out a small detail when she joined us. She's a bard, this we knew, but she's one of the darker bards. The scream was caused by assassins sent after her who were trying to lure us into the forest." Tamlen considered her words as he sat up properly, and grimaced when he turned to look at her. They were sitting shoulder to shoulder, and both became painfully aware of just how close they were.

"And why was Leliana crying?" Tamlen asked carefully, feeling Lina shift against him. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, exhaling a sigh.

"I shouted at her pretty badly. I just kind of…lost it. Blew up at her completely. I don't even know why, I've just been getting angrier lately ever since the joining. More impulsive." Lina shook her head and leaned into Tamlen and buried her face into his shoulder, and he hesitantly put an arm around her shoulder in comfort. "Why did you follow me?" Lina questioned after a moment of silence. He looked down at her with a small smile.

"I knew you'd feel awful." Lina scoffed at his words.

"Awful doesn't cut it. I made her _cry_, Tamlen, when she only kept quiet to keep us safe. I'm a horrible friend." She started to shake lightly, prompting Tamlen to wrap his other arm around her as she tried to hold back tears of her own. Her emotions were highly strung at the current moment, and he wasn't entirely sure if what he'd say would calm her. He _hated _seeing her upset.

"Hey now, I don't think you get to judge how good a friend you are. I'm still here, and I think after putting up with you for eighteen years I'm allowed to tell you now that you're a very _good _friend. And besides, it's Leliana. How bad could this one argument possibly be? You'll be back to discussing shoes and music with her by midday tomorrow." Tamlen grinned at her small chuckle, and dared to rest his chin on the top of her head. If he tried hard enough, he could almost imagine that they were more than best friends, could almost imagine that he'd told her exactly how he felt that day they entered the ruins, could imagine that this was a common occurrence in any life they had together, holding each other tightly after a long day. He'd never registered any signals from Lina that she felt the same, and so he'd kept quiet that day they went in the ruin.

He had no way of knowing that the same thoughts were echoing through his clanmate's mind.

After a minute or so, Lina released her grip on the front straps of his armour and pulled away, terrified that her hammering heart would give away her thoughts.

"I doubt that, you know." She muttered to him with a small smile, looking up at him with a hint of affection in her eyes.

"Hmm? Doubt what?" With the tumultuous thoughts going through his mind, Tamlen had forgotten that he'd spoken. Lina laughed at him and he took one of his arms back from around her.

"I doubt that we'll be talking about shoes by midday tomorrow." Lina answered, a flicker of disappointment flashing through her eyes as Tamlen removed his other arm from around her shoulder and made to stand up.

"You shouldn't doubt me, Lethallan, you know I'm always right."


	16. The Gauntlet

**A/N**: **Rewritten**, as per!

* * *

Leliana, Tamlen and Lina sat idly in the main hall of Redcliffe Castle, waiting patiently for Wynne to stir from her place on the floor. She was surrounded by mages and templars, and Lina felt unnerved by the looks that a few of the non-helmeted ones were giving the elder woman. Connor had, in the last several minutes, apparently slumped ungraciously to the floor in the small bedroom upstairs, and the mages had deduced that it wouldn't be long before Wynne would wake up. Lina looked over worriedly to Leliana and watched as the bard chewed her lip nervously and wrung her hands. True to Tamlen's words, she and Leliana had moved well past the incident from two days ago, and had been chatting as normal as they waited for Wynne to wake up. As the mage stirred, Leliana glanced over to Lina.

"I do hope we'll go somewhere exciting after this, without all the bother of some problem cropping up. I've always wanted to see Orzammar! Or the inside of a Dalish camp! That's something humans have hardly _ever _had the privilege of!" Leliana gave a grin at the thought, unaware of Lina's grimace and Tamlen's rolling of the eyes. He pressed his fingers to his temples and rubbed them to drown out an oncoming headache.

"Don't get too used to the idea, either. The only reason they won't shoot you is because Lina and myself will be with you, and that's _if _we find them." Lina gave a small smile and placed her hand on his arm at the look of discomfort on his face, and turned to her redheaded friend.

"In all honestly, I don't think we'll take you with us. I promised Tamlen that it would just be the two of us to go in initially, and if we're warmly welcomed then I think we'll likely bring in Zevran and Wynne. Zevran is an elf, so he'll be looked upon with less suspicion, and Wynne is older so she won't be seen as a threat." At Lina's words, Leliana gave a frown of disappointment. Tamlen threw her a dirty look; her sunny attitude and persistence was starting to grate on his nerves.

"I can be trusted."

"By _us_-"

"-But if you go walking into a Dalish camp prattling on about the Maker, you'll be lucky if no bows are turned in your direction. We can't risk upsetting our own people because of any human companions." Tamlen finished Lina's initial answer, his words harsh, and rubbed his eyes as the headache grew more painful. He didn't look up when Teagan approached them, and didn't notice that Wynne was also there.

"Connor is back to his old self, and Isolde lives. My brother will be pleased, should he wake up. My lady…" Teagan locked eyes with Lina, and at the hopeful look in his eyes she knew he was going to ask her to do something else. "Isolde wishes me to speak to you on yet another matter. My brother has still not woken up from his illness. The demon may have saved his life, but he is too ill to wake. The only solution that we can think of is the Urn of Sacred Ashes. If you could somehow find the urn and bring it back with you, there may yet be hope…" Teagan trailed off at the look of horror on the young elf's face. Leliana had informed her –reliably- on the tale of the Ashes and its supposed healing powers. Tamlen straightened up in his seat at the request – he'd heard of it too.

"But I'm _Dalish_. I'll be repelled by the temple itself because I do not believe in the Maker!"

"My lady, you _must _try! This may be my brother's only hope, and Redcliffe cannot afford to lose it's Arl in the current situation! If you were to simply _try_-"

"Fine, fine, I'll do it! Just stop calling me 'my lady'; I'm an elf, not some airheaded noblewoman." Lina grumbled under her breath as Teagan gave a smile of relief at her acquiescence.

"Thank you. You must speak to Brother Genetivi in Denerim, for he has been studying the ashes for a very long time and may know their location. Good luck!" Teagan bowed respectfully and walked back to the circle of mages still in the hall, and Lina rose from her seat. She motioned for the four of them to leave, but lagged behind when a calendar in a small room just off the corridor caught her attention.

Making the smallest of detours, she checked the marked off dates and gave a gasp when she realised the exact date. Furiously memorising the dates, she fled the room with the determination of a woman on a mission.

* * *

Three days later, when Lina sidled over to him on one of the logs around the campfire, Tamlen set his sword down next to him and simply raised a suspicious eyebrow at her. Everyone else was either in their tents, bathing, or hunting for food. (Leliana was, unsuccessfully, attempting to teach Alistair how to hunt.) His brow rose even higher when she grinned, and only then did he notice that she had both of her hands hidden behind her back. Her eyes glinted mischievously in the firelight.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with that look on your face, Lethallan. What are you up to?" He asked quietly, and he flicked his eyes around the camp to see if anyone was nearby in case she was playing a trick on him.

"Tamlen, I'm hurt that you would think I'm up to something! Eighteen years of friendship and-"

"And I know you well enough to realise when you're doing something you shouldn't. Lina, what did you do?" Tamlen continued with the cleaning on his blade, something which he'd been doing before Lina had crept up to him.

"Fine. I was thinking-"

"-This I _have _to hear-"

"-And I remembered something incredibly important once I learned the date. Can you remember when we were twelve, and you saw a full map of Ferelden for the very first time?" Lina's question was delicately asked, although a grin split her face when Tamlen gave a small laugh.

"Of course I do. The weeks that followed were some of the best we'd ever had."

"Well, can you remember when the camp had finally settled down, and you stole some food, a map and a small dagger and dragged us through the forest to that beach near Gwaren?" Lina's smile softened when Tamlen dug his sword into the ground and leaned on it, his eyes glazed over as he remembered. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Yes, Creators, Marethari practically flayed me when she found us."

"Can you remember when we finally got there? There was that ship on the horizon, the really big one, and you said that even though you were Dalish, to own something so glorious you'd be bewildered? And we'd spent the entire day watching ships sail past and talked about everything and nothing." Lina gave a contented sigh at the memory, a fond smile on her lips. Tamlen gave a nod as he looked down at her.

"I do remember. But Lina, what are you getting at? I'm certain you didn't come over here just to reminiscence." Tamlen half-inquired and half-wondered, and watched as Lina shook her head with a laugh.

"Today is the day that the humans celebrate Satinalia."

"I don't- _oh_." Lina grinned as he realised what she was getting at, and she brought both hands in front of her to show him an item covered in small cloth.

"Everyone had given me something for today, and I'd been so confused because I'd forgotten what it clashed with. I'd bought them all little odds and ends; Wynne an amulet, Leliana a flute, and so on. But I couldn't find anything humorous for you for today. But then I remembered something else, too. Happy birthday, my friend." Lina looked increasingly nervous as she handed the square-shaped, cloth covered object to him. Tamlen carefully pulled the cloth away and breathed out in surprise at what he saw.

He held in his hand a wooden tablet, filled with wax of hundreds of shades of colour, and etched into the wax was the image of a ship mid-voyage. It was detailed and incredibly elaborate, and looked more like a painting than a wax image. It was framed in glass, to prevent any more marks on the etching, and the beach looked exactly the same as the one he and Lina had ran to so long ago. He covered it over with care, vaguely aware of Lina rambling as he did so.

"I know it's not an _actual _ship, because I didn't think that would be very practical. Of course, I mean a model ship, because attempting to drag around an actual ship would be a little- oh!"

Lina cut herself off when, surprisingly, Tamlen pulled her to him and embraced her. She blushed furiously, momentarily flustered before, in a burst of daring, she leaned up and quickly kissed his cheek. She hid her deepening blush by burying her face into his chest as he tightened his arms around her.

"Thank you, Lethallan."

* * *

"I _knew _I should have brought Leliana! Why did I not bring the Chantry priest to the holy temple? Why?" Lina's questions echoed through the air as she jumped backwards and narrowly avoided a swipe from the wraith that had been, seconds earlier, a man. The correct answer to the question echoed almost painfully around her mind, and she stumbled to the floor as Alistair and Wynne took care of the wraith. Lina had discovered, in the middle of the lunatic-filled village, that she was pathetically useless at the moment in her fighting. Her Dar'Missan had shattered the previous day in the middle of a fight with a pocket of darkspawn, and the unfamiliar weight and length of a normal longsword was putting a lot of strain on her wrist. Her bow, as she'd found out minutes earlier, was utterly useless against the wraiths.

Wynne froze the wraith in its tracks, suddenly grateful that she'd learned the spell from Morrigan, and watched as Alistair bashed his shield through the wraith and shattered it. Ice crystals scattered along the floor as the wraith fell to pieces, and Tamlen kicked the shards to the side as they neared him. Lina threw the longsword to the floor, unhappy and annoyed, and removed her bow from the strapping on the back of her armour. Alistair gave her an amused smirk, to which Lina responded by pulling an immature face. As Alistair laughed, Tamlen pushed open the door and took a startled step back. Alistair peered into the doorway, confused as to why Tamlen had moved away from the door, and as his eyes locked on the figure ahead a choked sob escaped his throat. Ahead of him, in the passable, was a very familiar figure wearing unusual armour, heavily built with double blades crossed over his back.

Lina froze and stared up at Alistair in disbelief, watching the human go deathly pale as the man in the passageway turned around. Alistair took a slow step forward, holding his hand out to keep the others from following, and stepped over the threshold as the man in the passage locked eyes with his own.

His pain-filled gasp went unheard to the others as he looked into the face of the man who'd once been a mentor, a friend, and a father.

"_D-Duncan_? What are you doing here?" There was an ethereal tone to Alistair's voice, as though he was in a trance and was half expecting everything to fall apart.

"I'm here to _help _you." Duncan gave a chuckle, a low rumbling sound that Lina had never heard before, and the three of them looked on in wonder.

"How? I mean, you're dead aren't you?"

"Do not mistake my words, Alistair. You know as well as anyone that I am gone, and that I cannot come back. I am here merely to help you move past the grief that constricts your heart. You must know this; had you been at the battle, there was still _nothing _you could have done. Take your grief, and your pain, and cast it towards the darkspawn. Defeat this blight, but do not mourn over things that cannot be changed." Duncan lifted a hand to place it on Alistair's shoulder as he started to fade, and the blond-haired man held back tears as his friend disappeared before him, this time forever.

As Alistair moved to enter the next room, he stopped to look behind him as the fading image of Duncan became clearer. But it was not Duncan who appeared, but rather a much older man with greying hair and a long robe that made him oddly familiar. Lina heard Wynne's gasp of fright when Irving turned to face her, and she watched as the mage moved slowly over the threshold towards him.

"Irving? Is it really you?" Wynne's confusion was evident almost immediately. Lina could practically hear the woman's thoughts. If Irving was not dead, then why had he appeared? Had something happened at the tower? The old mage gave a croaked chuckle and took both of Wynne's hands in his own as he shook his head at her.

"No, Wynne. I am part of this gauntlet, and a part of you. I am merely placed her as part of the real Irving to encourage you through this difficult quest." Lina smiled as Wynne breathed out in relief, and leaned against the doorway as she wondered who would appear to her.

A white-hot pain flashed in her head as an image of _Tamlen _stood in that passage overwhelmed her. Her eyes slipped closed from the pain, and suddenly she was watching a vision of herself staring sadly at Tamlen. Tears were falling silently down her other self's face as she accepted a necklace from her clanmate, words of mistakes never being unmade echoing between the two before her. A single word, _fate_, burned itself into the back of her eyelids before the pain disappeared, and in a moment of panic she tightly grabbed Tamlen's hand and squeezed it to be sure he was still there. He looked at her in confusion, but despite her pale face and the looming headache, her attention had diverted to the passage. Tamlen followed her gaze and frowned in uncertainty.

An elven woman, thin and clearly old, stood facing them. White hair that they knew was once a flowing brown was pulled up into a tight bun at the back of her head, and a stern smile graced her face. Any wrinkles on her forehead were hidden by her light Vallaslin. Tamlen glanced over at Lina as she cocked her head to the side in wonder.

"Which one of us is she here for?" Lina asked, perplexed.

The elven woman in the passage cleared her throat and beckoned Lina closer, a single eyebrow raised in anticipation. Tamlen swallowed thickly.

"She's here for you."


	17. A Rose

**A/N**: Rewritten, with a **big **change (kinda) at the beginning of it. Instead of having them both see Ashalle, which didn't seem fair, I gave them each a person of their own to speak to them in the gauntlet.

* * *

Lina glanced over to Tamlen nervously, her eyes full of trepidation as the woman in the passage beckoned her closer. Tamlen gave her an encouraging nod, and Lina gave his arm a squeeze before she crossed the threshold. Curiosity was etched plainly in her features, and she smiled at the woman once she neared her.

"Ashalle?" The woman nodded at Lina and waited until they were closer before she spoke. She wanted Lina to be out of Tamlen's earshot. Warmly, she placed both hands on Lina's cheeks and smiled sweetly at her.

"Da'len. You've come these few months. Your deeds, your interactions with the shemlen you were raised to dislike… you've no idea how proud you've made me. It makes me infinitely proud to see how far you have progressed, how much you have learned."

"Oh Ashalle, how I _wish _I was back with the clan. These humans, I may know them, I may speak to them every day and yet I never truly feel _safe _around them, never truly comfortable. Only in Tamlen's company, in his familiarity, does the strangeness of the situation dim enough for me to focus." Lina shook her head in sadness as she spoke, and the woman who had raised her could only give her a sad smile.

"You have not got it as bad as you really think you have, my dear. The wind may throw you around, the rain may pelt you mercilessly and the darkness may hold more danger than ever before, but you have Tamlen to help you through this. I'm sure I do not need to tell you that you could have gone through this alone, maybe even _should _have. Remember that, in the days to come." Ashalle put emphasis on her words and, as Lina was about to turn her head to glance behind her at Tamlen, she pulled Lina closer and clasped her hand in her own. "Good luck, my dear, we will meet again soon enough." As Ashalle pulled her hands back, Lina felt something warm and hard slip into her palms. Ashalle all but pushed her forward into the left corridor to the next room, and Lina slowly walked through and gazed at the amulet in her hands.

Tamlen watched her walk away and then fixed his gaze on the fading apparition of Ashalle. His jaw dropped when, after a few seconds, the figure shortened and the hair coloured, the thin dress turned into sturdy Dalish armour and the warm brown eyes hardened to the dark midnight eyes of his clanmate. The figure smiled, a smile that was too cold to belong to the _real _Lina, and she beckoned him closer with a tilt of her head.

"I must admit, I was not expecting you." Tamlen spoke briskly as he stopped in front of the gauntlet's version of his clanmate. Lina smiled.

"I could have taken many forms. I figured that this would be the best one, my friend." At Tamlen's silence, she continued. "Some mistakes that we make, they can never be unmade. You cannot go back to the day where you ventured into the ruins. You cannot go back and stop yourself from touching that mirror. It is time you accept that, and move on."

"I cannot move on from that. If I hadn't gone inside, we wouldn't have been thrown into this mess." Tamlen answered quickly, his eyes narrowed at the Lina before him. She gave a deep sigh.

"Has it occurred to you that you are in this 'mess' for a reason? True, this is not the road _you _were intended upon, but you should not feel guilt over what has happened to me. I may be upset at the situation, but I do not blame you for the way events turned out. You should learn that. Let go of your guilt, it is sorely misplaced." The Lina before him changed her footing and shifted her weight to her left, keeping her focus on Tamlen. He shook his head.

"You are not my clanmate, you cannot know this."

"I would say I'm a very good representation of her heart. Of her feelings. You're not blamed for anything. As long as you're safe, you never will be." The Lina before him gave him another smile and bowed her head, before she faded away completely. Tamlen stood staring at the spot where she stood, contemplating her words long after she was gone.

* * *

"Lina, please don't pour the blood into the ashes." Wynne's plea was quiet, barely loud enough to be picked up even by Tamlen and Lina's ears. Lina collected a small pinch of the ashes and placed them into a handkerchief, which she folded up and placed carefully into a pouch. When the pouch was placed back into her pack, she removed the dark-blue vial of dragon's blood and examined it carefully.

Wynne held her breath as Lina narrowed her eyes at the vial. Alistair was looking at her in hope, wishing her to preserve the ashes and not destroy them with the blood. Tamlen stood behind Alistair with his arms crossed and a look on his face that told Lina he really, honestly couldn't care less about what she did. Lina twisted the vial in her hand, feeling the cold vibrations emanating from the core of the vial. She shook her head once and then handed Wynne the vial. The mage took it carefully, and looked at Lina with a look of curiosity on her face.

"I don't believe in the Maker, but I will not destroy the ashes. I'm not heartless. Destroy the blood." Lina carefully placed the lid of the urn back on and checked that it was secure, before she moved to the steps and returned Wynne's smile.

They moved towards the exit of the temple, and Alistair pushed the door open as Lina scavenged a golden necklace from a burnt corpse before she slipped out after them. Alistair watched as Lina disappeared into the shadows as the door closed, and he frowned in wonder until he heard Kolgrim ahead of them shout to his men something along the lines of

"They have left the temple!"

Tamlen's eyes watched the peculiar twisting, flickering shadow that was Lina move to the ruined wall and walk alongside it, and he faintly saw the outline of a blade being unsheathed as the light distorted. He nudged Alistair, motioning with his head towards the barely-visible shadow of Lina, and both males started to walk forward towards Kolgrim. Wynne held on tightly to her staff as she followed, one of her energy-giving spells at the ready should they be attacked.

They'd estimated correctly the amount of time it would take the small blonde elf to reach Kolgrim whilst moving in the shadows, and Alistair stopped his walking just in time to see Kolgrim's eyes widen slightly. There was the smallest sound of a blade being pushed through bone before the tip of a dagger could be seen at the base of Kolgrim's throat, and Lina appeared behind him. Tamlen, unfortunate enough to have not stopped when Alistair did, was hit with a spray of warm, sticky blood when Lina pulled her blade out and dragged it across the human's jugular vein.

Tamlen stepped back and spat the blood out at the same moment that Kolgrim slumped to the floor, his slit throat staining the snow red. The two warriors behind him unsheathed their swords immediately and readied their shields. The one closest to Lina bashed her square in the back with pointed bottom of his shield and she fell to the floor with a cry of pain. Alistair grabbed her wrist and dragged her up, unwillingly pulling her through the bloodied snow and having it smear over her legs and side. She was pushed to the side by the human seconds after she was standing as a sword sliced through the air where she'd been moments before.

Tamlen pressed forward with his shield, distracting one of the warriors long enough to take a swing at a chink in the man's armour. The human staggered, and Tamlen kicked his legs hard enough to make him stumble to the floor. Seconds later, his sword was plunged through the human's chest and twisted sharply to ensure he wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

As Alistair finished off the other warrior with the help of Wynne, Tamlen moved over to his clanmate. She gave him an apologetic smile when she saw how much blood he was covered in, but he shrugged it off with a shake of his head. Wynne stepped forward with a small amount of serum on the tips of her fingers to smear across Lina's lower back and pointedly ignore the two men's alarm at the drake heading towards them.

* * *

"These…_These _are the true ashes of Andraste? Oh, I am in awe from simply looking at them." Leliana's voice was distant as she stared at the small pouch that Lina held out for her, and her accent came thickly through her words.

"I've told you _twice _already. Yes, these are the ashes. You can hold them, you know!" Lina, tired of Leliana's insistence to look and not touch, lightly threw the pouch towards the bard. With no choice but to catch it, the redhead's eyes lit up when she held the pouch properly.

"How can you see these and still have no belief in the Maker?" Lina narrowed her eyes at the question her redheaded friend posed, but saw no malice in the question when she looked at her friends face.

"Because I am Dalish. I believe in the Creators, and no one else. And those are not the ashes of the Maker, but rather his 'bride'." Her answer was careful, but before Leliana could give a reply the young woman had noticed a nervous Alistair making his way slowly towards them.

"Your templar friend is making his way over here, Lina. Oh! I do believe Zevran is calling me!" Leliana handed Lina the pouch back before she stood up gracefully, and tossed Lina a sly wink before scarpering off in the direction of Zevran. Lina turned and stood up herself, placing the pouch in the pack and looking around anxiously for Tamlen. She had a feeling that she knew what was coming, and nothing good would come out of it if she didn't get away before Alistair started speaking.

"Hello… I was, um, wondering if we could talk?" As Alistair spoke, Lina hid her disappointment with a bright smile and nodded to the human before her.

"Of course, go ahead Alistair." Lina kept her smile as Alistair fumbled in his own pack, before he placed something into her hand.

"Here, do you know what this is?"

Lina cleverly held back a groan of dread as she glanced down at one of the most beautiful, velvety red roses she had ever seen.


	18. More Difficulties

**A/N: Rewritten**, a few changes here and there, mainly with the Zevran & Tamlen and Lina's talk with Leliana.

* * *

Lina had thought, when Alistair had handed her the rose, that no one in the camp had seen it apart from Leliana. Her smile faltered slightly in dread, but she never imagined that anyone would mistake that faltering smile for happy surprise. Tamlen did. Zevran saw, but did not mistake her look.

Tamlen didn't think that anyone had seen the angry flash of jealously that burned in his eyes, nor did he think that anyone had noticed him get up from near his tent and walk into the forest. Zevran did. And Zevran followed.

The assassin watched from the shadows of the trees as Tamlen made his way through to a small clearing, and only shook his head in wonder as the male elf cursed and muttered to himself. His fists were clenched in frustration, something that made Zevran roll his eyes. Flicking a lock of his hair over his shoulder, Zevran moved from the trees and directly into Tamlen's line of sight. Tamlen froze as he locked eyes with the other elf, and wondered just how he'd managed to walk all this way and _not _hear the blond assassin.

"You, my friend, need to calm down." Zevran spoke confidently as he walked around the outside of the small clearing. His golden eyes were alight with amusement and clashed with Tamlen's stormy, angry grey ones. Zevran crossed the clearing to the stream that split the clearing in two and separated him from Tamlen, and bent down to pick up several stones. Tamlen watched him as he slowly tossed them back into the stream as he waited for Tamlen to answer.

"Excuse me?" Tamlen crossed his arms haughtily, prompting a chuckle from the Antivan.

"One of the most interesting aspects of my career, I have learnt, is how easy it becomes to observe. I know the look of an angry man when I see one, no matter how he hides it." Zevran smirked at Tamlen as he spoke, and dropped a stone into the stream with a loud splash to break the silence.

"What would _possibly _make you think I'm angr-"

"-Jealous, then. Whichever you prefer, it's of no concern to me, really. However, you are really quite blind, my friend." Tamlen scowled at the smirking elf when he was interrupted, but his facial expression turned quickly into one of denial.

"I am not-"

"You are. You wish to know why I have not made any attempt at enticing our lovely leader? Because she has eyes only for you. It is a weakness, one she should not be thinking of during the _blight_, but it's there. You're a fool not to notice it, my friend." Tamlen's neck almost clicked with the speed in which he looked up, and a frown immediately crossed his features.

"That's where you're wrong. I…I'd thought that maybe she could, that maybe she _did_, but she's too curious about humans to reject that, that _shem_." Tamlen's words were laced with distaste, and Zevran raised an eyebrow at the contemptuous look on the other man's face.

"Then ignore her."

"_Pardon?_"

"Oh my friend, you heard me. Make her come to you, because come to you she will. Although your efforts will be for naught, because the lovely little minx will have declined that rose." Zevran answered in a drawl that was almost sing-song and yet very serious, and Tamlen merely shook his head at the other elf.

"We'll see."

"We will indeed."

* * *

"Do you think he'll remember anything?" Lina asked Tamlen, her gaze fixed entirely on him and ignorant of Wynne and Alistair beside them. They were waiting in the hall of the Redcliffe Castle, having arrived a few hours earlier with the ashes for the Arl. He had awakened an hour ago and was promptly being cleaned up in order to meet them. Teagan was debriefing the Arl on all that had happened during his illness.

"I don't know." Tamlen's words were hissed through his teeth and horribly blunt, and Lina faltered in her smile. For the past week he had been giving her the cold-shoulder, and although she smiled and brushed it off whenever he acted so coldly, she couldn't deny that it hurt. She'd thought they were becoming so close, had hoped that all her girlish dreams were coming true. Had he realised, and this was his way of letting her know that her feelings weren't returned? That her love was unwanted? Still, she pressed on, hoping he'd lighten up as fear nestled into her heart.

"What if he has hallucinations of his time in the fade? Would he be lucid enough to help out?" Lina frowned a little at the thought, and the frown deepened when Tamlen merely shrugged. She nudged him in the side, earning a flinch from him. He turned and glared at her, hissing through his teeth,

"I don't _care_."

"Ooh, you're very touchy today, aren't you? Come to think of it, you've been _horrible _this past week. What has happened?" Lina's anger was starting to rise as she spoke, and she lightly rested her hands on her hips and looked up at Tamlen, moving into his line of vision so he _had _to look at her. He rolled his eyes.

"Leave it alone."

"I _would_, but you've been like this for a while and I want to know _why_." Lina stood her ground as Tamlen glared down at her in an attempt to shut her up and make her move on from the topic. Her determination stood strong, and he sighed.

"Forget about it."

"_No!_"

"We will discuss this at camp." Tamlen ground out slowly, his back teeth grinding together as he looked anywhere but at Lina. She shook her head.

"No. Talk, _now_."

"We will talk at _camp_, now be quiet Lina!" Tamlen glared at her, but the use of her name combined with the anger in his tone made her take a startled step back, and she broke his gaze. He hadn't used that tone with her in years, and the thought alone made her want to beg to know what it was she'd done. Lina narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms, keeping a fixed glare on him as he turned to look behind her.

"Why must you be so bloody _difficult_?" Lina muttered under her breath in despair, and she focused instead on the elaborate rug. She felt unusually despondent, and didn't even look up when Arl Eamon approached. She didn't break from her reverie until Arl Eamon announced his plan to put Alistair on the throne. She snapped her head up in surprise, and turned on her heel to look at the blond human. Traces of her earlier anger burned in her eyes as she spoke.

"You're a _prince_?"

The only sound to break the silence that followed was Tamlen's low whistle that summed up everything about to blow to pieces.

* * *

"So… He's a bastard prince. Who would have thought?" Leliana grinned as she twirled a flower around in her fingers, and waited for Lina to look up from where she was etching on the map. Once the female elf looked up, Leliana lay chest down on her bedroll and crossed her ankles in the air. She waved the flower around dramatically as Lina hummed in acknowledgement.

"Exactly. He's supposed to take the throne now, too, since Cailan is dead. It's a good thing that I didn't accept that rose, isn't it? Very close call there." Lina put her face even closer to the map and carefully used her compass on the map to determine the best route through the Frostback Mountains. She needed to find a decent route that would also include a good place to camp before reaching Orzammar.

"But that is not the only reason you declined, no?" Leliana asked the question carefully, and absentmindedly picked the petals off the flower. She watched as her words caused Lina to drag the compass off the map in surprise, suppressing a giggle at the elven curse she muttered.

"What do you mean?" Lina sounded exasperated, and pressed the compass back down hard to keep the position. Leliana smirked.

"I mean something else must have stopped you. After all, what woman could resist such a beautiful rose from such a charming man, if their hearts were not set on someone else?" At Leliana's words Lina frowned deeply, and nearly punched a hole through the map with her compass.

"Excuse me?"

"I'll be blunt. You're in love with a certain blond elf."

The compass snapped in two. Leliana gave a sly smirk as Lina grinned nervously, shaking slightly as she picked up the two pieces of the compass.

"No thanks, Zevran's a little too much for me. Beautiful, aye, but not my type." Lina gave up immediately at fixing the compass and threw it behind her into her tent. She wanted Leliana to be quiet immediately, although she had no fear of Tamlen overhearing. No, the other elf had made a point by moving his bedroll near Sten to escape her questioning.

"Oh no, my dearest friend, I am speaking of Tamlen- _ouch_!" Leliana cried out in pain when a spyglass collided with her head.

"_Keep your voice down_!" Lina hissed, her annoyed expression turning to one of laughter at the glare that Leliana was giving her.

"I'll take that as a confirmation, then."

"Take it as you will…" Lina trailed off as she glanced around camp to determine who had looked up at Leliana's cry of pain. No one seemed to have done so, and with Zevran on the road as a lookout and Tamlen out hunting with Sten, she realised she could talk without fear of the other two elves overhearing. "It's just, oh I don't even _know_."

"Why haven't you told him about how you feel?"

"Because he's been acting like a moody da'len for nearly a week and a half now! I would have told him how I felt immediately after Alistair handed me the rose, but he suddenly started acting so distant. I've known that I've loved him since the moment we met, even if then I thought it was just childish fancy, and I've been _in love _with him since I was sixteen, when I could _feel _it in my bones that a life without him in it would be a worthless one. But he's been so difficult that I daren't approach him. I keep thinking, what if he knows and this distance is his way of letting me know that I'm a fool for hoping for such things?" Lina wrung her hands nervously, her voice barely above a whisper as Leliana listened to her.

"Can you pinpoint an exact moment when he started acting like this?" Leliana asked carefully, with a knowing look on her face as Lina sat back on her bedroll with a sigh.

"Since last Tuesday. He came back out of the forest about an hour after Alistair… _oh no_." Lina bolted up in her bedroll and turned to face Leliana. "You don't think he saw, do you?"

"My dear friend, I think perhaps he did. And I worry that he has thought you have accepted Alistair's offer of love."

"_No, _no, no, _no_. He can't have thought that. He wouldn't have, I was making my feelings quite clear in the days before that damn rose incident!" Lina shook her head in disbelief, but Leliana merely gave her a wry smile.

"You need to tell him, Lina. You could lose him."

"How do you _tell _someone that? How can you possibly put into words eighteen years of love in such a way that someone can understand it? He couldn't possibly comprehend just how much it _hurts _to love someone and have them oblivious to it."

"Oh I think he could, Lina. I think he loves you. This cold-shoulder business, I think, is his way of distancing himself to you so he can recover from what he perceives as you loving someone else." Leliana hesitantly placed an arm around Lina, and miserably the younger woman leant into her side and gave a heavy sigh.

"He needs to know. I could destroy our friendship by doing so, but with the way he's been acting lately I'd only be bringing forward the inevitable." Leliana frowned when she realised Lina was shaking slightly with nerves at her own plan.

"When will you let him know?"

"The moment when he is out of this mood. If he's still acting like this when we get to Orzammar, then that is when I shall speak up."


	19. Anger

**A/N**: **Rewritten**, but you're all still going to hate me. Because I think I just made it worse.

* * *

Lina narrowed her eyes at Leliana when the bard silently tripped over the log and allowed a very loud and sharp '_crack_' to echo through the camp. She chewed her lip uncomfortably as Leliana started to hiss in pain, and watched as Wynne immediately moved towards the redhead. Her tongue clicked madly as the mage examined Leliana's ankle, her magic flowing through her fingers to help fix the bone that had snapped clean in two.

Lina nearly snapped her bow in two when the mage told her that Leliana could not go hunting, for any weight on her newly-healed ankle could snap it once again. She confined the redhead to her tent for the rest of the evening, and left Lina standing near the fire silently fuming. Gritting her teeth, Lina walked into Leliana's tent and glowered at her.

"_What are you playing at_?"

"Nothing, my dear friend! I could not help it if I fell over the log, could I now? My poor shoes, I fear they will be wrecked forever." Leliana tried hard to fight a grin that was rising to her lips, and only managed to hide her tilting lips because of Lina's anger.

"Don't play games with me, Leliana! You _know _the only other person who can hunt with me right now is Tamlen, you _knew _that and yet you did this!" Lina waved her hand at Leliana's leg as she spoke, and the bard merely sighed at her and shook her head.

"You could always go on your own, but I fear for your safety if you wander into the woods alone." At Leliana's sly tone, Lina shook her head in annoyance and stormed out of the tent. Leliana smirked, hoping that the trip into the woods would ease some of the tension between the two elves.

Lina paused once she exited the tent, taking several deep breaths to calm her anger. At the moment, she detested Wynne's presence; had the healer not been here, Leliana wouldn't have _dared _to pull a stunt like breaking her ankle out of fear that Morrigan would remove it. She ground her teeth painfully and looked around the camp for Tamlen, hoping that her nerves at whether or not he'd still be cold with her would outweigh her anger at Leliana. She found him sitting in front of his tent with his blade and shield before him, chatting amiably to Zevran. Both male elves looked up when she approached; Tamlen in surprise and Zevran with a knowing look behind his eyes.

"Get your bow, Tamlen, we need to go hunting. Leliana's broken her ankle." Lina inwardly cursed at the tone of aloofness in her voice, but didn't apologise at the frown that Tamlen gave her. An unrecognisable look flashed across his face as he looked at her, before he leant back into his tent and grabbed his quiver and bow. As he stood up, his face inches away from Lina's, a flash of sorrow passed in her eyes and he almost let out a sigh at the knowledge that he was the cause of it. But the look disappeared immediately, and her eyes turned cold as she gave him a short nod and then started to walk away.

"Come along, then. It does no good to lose the game before the hunt has even begun."

* * *

The doe cocked her head to the side as a gasp travelled along the clearing she was resting in, and both her ears went up in alert as she looked for the source of the breath. Behind a thicket, Tamlen sent Lina a glare. She had moved forward slightly to gain a better aim and had gasped when a nettle had brushed against her cheek. Both of their arrows were aimed at the doe, with Tamlen aiming at her side and Lina at her hind legs. Lina only needed to give the smallest signal to shoot the arrows and their catch would be done for the next two evenings.

Lina motioned for Tamlen to look at her, and as he did Lina leant forward to hiss a quiet _'shoot' _under her breath. However, as she leant a stick under her boots snapped loudly, and the echoing sound forced the doe into action. Tamlen quickly let his arrow fly, watching in annoyance as it grazed the now-alert doe along her back.

The two of them took off after the doe, pushing their way through thickets and vines to catch up to the animal. Lina leapt up onto a jutting-out rock and aimed, her arrow flying free as Tamlen jumped over the stream after the doe. Her arrow missed, and she jumped down to follow him. Nocking another arrow, she kept her bow low at her side as she ran.

She stopped moments later when, unexpectedly, Tamlen stopped and Lina slammed into his back as the doe disappeared into the dark of the forest. Tamlen stumbled forwards, narrowly missing the arrow that Lina accidentally let loose as her concentration broke. They stood panting for several minutes, attempting to get their breath back, and Lina licked her dry lips as she slung her bow over her back.

"Let's just go back to camp. We can just have vegetable stew, or something." Lina gave a tight smile before she turned on her heel, missing the annoyance in Tamlen's grey eyes. She started to walk back in the general direction of camp, waiting for the outburst that she _knew _was coming.

"You had to move, didn't you?"

"Oh creators, I'm psychic. I knew this was coming." Lina muttered darkly under her breath and kept walking, though her words were loud enough for Tamlen to hear. He glared at her, a retort on his tongue.

"Deflect it with sarcasm all you want, you _know _we lost that doe because you didn't shoot." Lina didn't turn despite the anger in his voice, although her steps did become less coordinated as she sped up.

"That was _not _my fault. You _always _shoot first, or have you forgotten in these weeks you've been ignoring me?"

"Your arrows were aimed at her leg! She could have gotten away even if I had shot first; it was _your _arrow that counted!" Lina's fists clenched as he spoke; she couldn't believe he was picking a fight with her over this.

"You _still _did not need to wait for me."

"Yes, I did!" At his words, she whirled around and fixed him with a look of total fury.

"I cannot believe you are arguing with me _over this_! What is this, pick a fight at the first opportunity?" Startled, Tamlen took a step back but kept his eyes locked with her. The tension between the two of them could be cut with a knife.

"You're the one acting out of turn, not me." His voice was low and calm even as he glared her down, but his words infuriated Lina even more.

"_Me_? _You _are the one who has been acting difficultly the past month! Every time I try to find out why, you push me away! I take one step towards you, and you push me two back! I do not like what you have become!" Lina turned to storm off, breathing heavily and attempting to calm herself down from the frenzy she was worked up into. Tamlen followed behind her, ready to speak again.

"This started _because of you_." He kept oddly calm despite her fury, but Lina knew that inside he was ready to snap.

"Pin it on me, then! Tell me, what did I do?" Although Lina attempted to speed up her walking, Tamlen grabbed her wrist and held it tightly between them.

"You're in a relationship _with a shem_." Another wave of anger surged through Lina at the sneer in which he uttered his words, but the look of hurt lingering just behind his stare calmed her enough to yank her wrists violently from his grasp and glower at him. After a moment of tense silence, all the tension in her body drained and she put her head in her hands.

"Oh you fool. You insufferable _fool_." Her tone was melancholic, and as she rubbed her temples, Tamlen looked at her in confusion. She did not delay the answer to his unspoken question. "I didn't take the rose from Alistair; I _refused any _relationship with him." Lina removed her hands from her face in time to see the look of momentary relief on Tamlen's face before it was replaced again with the confusion.

"Why did you?" His voice was suspicious, and he kept his chin up and he kept his stony eyes on her. He looked like a man who was so angry that he wasn't certain if he was going to laugh or cry. Lina shook her head as her anger started to rise again.

"Because he's not _you_! Creators forbid, I thought I'd made it obvious, maybe even _too _obvious. I love you, you fool! I have been in love with you from the very first day, all those years ago! For years I have been like a lovesick puppy, desperate to please you and gain your love! Every cold look, every rejection, every thread of anger has been another ache, another twist of the dagger in my heart as everything inside my mind _pleads _for me to give up on you, and yet I can't! And I don't want to, because your every smile halts my breath, your every touch makes my heart skip a beat and just your presence alone makes me wonder if maybe, just maybe, I can be content with just your friendship. But you've withdrawn even that, and despite my attempts at making you realise how I feel _you think I would frolic around with a shem!_"

Lina's breathing came raggedly as she shut her mouth with a click, the realisation of what she had just revealed sinking in. Her tone had gone from angry, to sad, and back to angry, and she was still feeling the waves of anger as Tamlen stared at her. His mouth was parted slightly, and his mind was reeling from what she'd told him. He was not silent from dismay or horror at her words as Lina was incorrectly thinking, however, but rather simply didn't know what to do now that those words he'd wanted to hear for years had escaped her. Should he tell her how he felt? Show her? Creators, what should he _say_?

Lina's anger flared at his silence, and she shook her head at him.

"You can't even turn me away, can you?" She pursed her lips in anger and shook her head, turning on her heel to go the remainder of the way to camp on her own. Tamlen stumbled forward to catch her wrist.

"Lina, wait-"

"_No_." She yanked her wrist free for the second time that night. "I can't speak to you right now, leave me _alone_."

She stormed off across the threshold of the forest and towards her tent, and Tamlen _knew _the second he heard the resigned hurt in her voice that he should follow her.

But he didn't, out of fear, and that would only tear them further apart.

* * *

Lina's anger crossed over into the next day, and by evening she was still snapping at anyone who tried to speak to her. She couldn't face Tamlen; fear of rejection and anger at his petty assumptions stewed inside her until she couldn't take it anymore. By the time they'd all rented rooms at 'The Dancing Bear' inn in the Frostback Mountains, Lina had snapped again and gotten into an argument with Leliana.

It took her minutes to pack the knapsacks. Her own had been ruffled slightly- she wondered if Leliana had gone through it earlier- but when both had been packed to the brim she hid them under the bed and waited for Leliana to fall asleep. The bard had had a full meal and a fair bit of mead; Lina knew she'd be asleep in minutes. Once the bard's soft snores echoed around their shared room, Lina pulled both sacks from under the bed and slipped into the shadows. She emerged only once she'd reached the bar area of the tavern.

The taint pulsated within her, fuelling her irrational decision. With the darkspawn likely only a few dozen metres below her feet in the deep roads, Lina knew that their presence below was also a likely cause in her fury refusing to cease. Both of the Grey Warden's sitting at a table looked up as she approached, and though her eyes burned her face was calm and a sunny smile graced her features. Her emotions only showed through the way she slammed both knapsacks onto the table.

"Alistair, would you mind letting me talk to Tamlen in private? Thank you." Lina sidled down into the vacant seat once Alistair left the room, and as she did so Tamlen looked between the two packs and Lina's face. With a sigh, he shook his head.

"I hope you know what you're doing." At his words, Lina chewed her lip and tears sprung to her eyes. For a moment, Tamlen thought she might go back on the ridiculous idea in her head, hoped that she'd give him a chance to speak. It was in vain; seconds later Lina had composed herself and, although she still chewed her bottom lip in nervousness, her mind was made up.

"This blight has torn us apart, Tamlen. Sometimes I wake up and I don't know which way is up, or where I am. I want to go home, to the clan, and yet when I need _you _to comfort me most you treat me with _contempt_. We need to be apart from each other for a while, sort our thoughts out and meet up again weeks from now, or maybe months. I don't know… maybe longer. I need time to quell my feelings and you need time to get used to the knowledge of how I feel without hurting me in your rejection. Maybe one of us should return to the clan."

"No, you _know _that's-"

"It's you or me. Which one of us stays, and which one goes?" Lina's lip trembled as she spoke, and her mind screamed "_don't go, don't ever leave me! Fight my rash decisions as you always do!"_ Tamlen looked at both knapsacks, and took his own from the table. He stood up slowly, carefully, and turned to leave. He paused before he stepped away, however, and looked down at his clanmate. She met his gaze in horror at what she'd done.

"You should know, the reason I kept quiet yesterday was because I was surprised. At everything you said. Because I've always loved you."

And then he was gone.


	20. Orzammar

**A/N**: **Rewritten**. I'm still not happy with the last chapter, but I still think it's better than it had been :/

* * *

It took three full minutes for Tamlen's parting words to sink in. And when they did, she felt absolutely ridiculous. She sat still, frozen in horror as _I've always loved you _echoed around her head. The full enormity of his words were hitting her hard; he _loved _her, actually loved her, something she had thought to be an almost impossible dream. And she had sent him away.

Without grabbing her cloak from her room, Lina fled from the inn with her heart hammering in her chest. Almost immediately she was hit with the icy winds and temporary blindness that came with a vicious blizzard. It took her only a minute to untie Duster from his pen in the stables and, sensing his mistress's distress, the dog ran off in the direction of the path they had used to get to the inn. Lina rubbed her arms and cursed the cold before she made her own way towards the path to Orzammar.

The wind was harsh and cold and terribly brutal, and t whipped at her face so fiercely that Lina knew without a doubt that her cheeks were flaming red and her tears were almost freezing solid as they tried to slip from the corners of her eyes. She pushed forward and ignored the deep snow that was falling into her boots and numbing her legs, and feebly ran up the path. It took an hour of pushing her way through snow, bushes and thickets, and nearly getting hit by a caravan, for Lina to realise that continuing on would only result in her freezing to death.

Despite it all, Lina stumbled towards one of the jutting rocks on the side of a small hill and sat on it, forcing herself to try to ignore the cold snow and battering winds. She knew now that, with the ferocity of the blizzard, he could have gone back and left the Frostback Mountains or continued forward on one of two paths, and she'd have never found him. The snow was coming down too heavily for her to see properly, and the five minute delay ensured that his figure would have been long out of her sight by the time she'd hurtled outside the inn.

Cold, heartbroken, and utterly miserable, Lina held herself together and waited for her dog to find her.

* * *

"I refuse to forgive you." Leliana's voice cut through Lina's reverie as she placed blanket that had warmed before the fire around the elf. Lina kept staring into the tavern fire.

"I refuse to forgive myself." Lina huddled under the blanket and gave a heavy sigh; she'd walked through the door of the tavern and had been immediately steered into a chair by a waiting Leliana. The blanket had come from the innkeeper's wife, who had taken one look at the soaked, freezing elf and had gone to retrieve it. Wynne had handed her a mixture to swallow to prevent influenza, and Leliana had been fetched to find out exactly what had happened.

"I hope you regret it! Maker only knows where he is now; I hope you put a cloak in that knapsack!" Leliana's voice was rising in pitch as her panic rose, and to stop herself from becoming highly strung she promptly sat down in front of the fire and took deep breaths. "_Three _Grey Wardens to fight the blight, and you just sent one away."

"What if I never see him again?" Lina's voice quivered as she whispered into the quiet space between herself and Leliana. The redhead moved to sit on her knees and leant forward with a sigh. She grasped Lina's cold hands in her own.

"You will. Something tells me that you two simply can't be separated, not now. If he loves you, and you him, and you are meant to be together, you'll find each other again. That is, if he hasn't died out in this blizzard." Leliana's tone turned harsh, prompting Lina to wince at her words. The blonde elf rubbed at her eyes and leaned forwards, resting her head in her hands.

"Creators, what have I done?"

"You need to stop thinking about this. We will go to Orzammar tomorrow and sort out the treaty agreements. Once that is done, if we have nothing to do in Orzammar, we will get out of the Frostback Mountains through the quickest route possible and we _will _find him." Although Leliana meant her words to be comforting, Lina only gave a short bark of a laugh.

"No we won't. He was the best tracker in the clan, and also the best at hiding his tracks. He'll be angry, and he won't want to be found. And if he doesn't want to be found, then he never will be."

"But we have Zevran." Both Lina and Leliana looked up in surprise at the voice. Wynne stood only a few feet away from them and, although she was leaning more than she should have on her staff, she looked oddly alert considering the time. It must have been no earlier than one in the morning.

"Pardon?" Lina barely choked the word out in her surprise, and Wynne gave her a small chuckle before moving to sit in one of the other chairs. Leliana now sat in the middle of the floor between them.

"My dear, you are a Dalish elf, you surely have some knowledge of how to find another of your kind. And Zevran was an assassin; he too must have some tracking skills from his…adventures. You've a good chance of finding him, I'm sure, if you pool your skills with Zevran's." Wynne offered Lina a small smile, one that the blonde elf returned, before Leliana spoke up.

"Is it a good idea to find him? What if he doesn't _want _to be found?"

"If we don't find any trace of him within a week, I will wait until the blight is over. If I survive the blight, I will search all of Thedas until I find him." Lina rubbed her eyes again and winced at the feeling of her cold fingertips on her face. Chills were still running up and down her back, and no amount of tugging the blanket closer would make them subside.

"I won't say that what you did wasn't foolish, child, but I can say that I almost understand. To love someone wholly and utterly with every fibre of your being, and then to find out that they, too, feel what you feel is a revelation that is hard to process. It makes us so startled that we invariably make mistakes. But I would not do so again, my dear." Wynne's voice, stern yet caring, was the final blow to Lina's nerves. Without much of a warning, the small blonde elf began to sob.

"Why did I do it? _Why_?" Hesitantly, Leliana put an arm around Lina and looked up at Wynne for advice on how to proceed. The older woman simply shook her head.

"Perhaps you will learn from this, then. The next time you hold someone's heart in your hand dear, you would do well not to crush it." Wynne leaned forwards and put a comforting hand on Lina's shoulder, and stood up carefully. "I'm going to retire, now. You should both get to bed as well." She gave them a pointed look before she left.

When the door shut behind the mage, Lina burst into tears.

* * *

"What do you plan on doing with this golem, might I ask?" Wynne sounded very concerned as she asked the question, watching as Lina tucked the oddly-small rod into her knapsack. They'd recently acquired it from a merchant and, rather than take the trek down to Honnleath, Lina had decided to pick up the golem on her way back through the mountains.

_If _she hadn't found Tamlen by that point, of course.

"I think I'll activate it once we get to Honnleath. Or I might snap the rod in two and throw it into the depths of Orzammar. I can't decide." Wynne nodded at her answer and leaned heavily on her staff as they ascended the steep path up to Orzammar. Lina was panting and bent over slightly as she struggled to reach the top, and was moment away from physically gripping the stones of the path to pull herself up. Once they reached the top of the hill, Lina stopped short and almost stumbled _back _down the hill had Zevran not placed his hand on her back to steady her. He followed her line of sight and frowned when he saw what had confused her so. Wynne was struck speechless, and Alistair and Zevran walked towards the sight.

Before them, covered in their own blood, were the bodies of three male bounty hunters and a female mage. All looked to have been shot with arrows, and the armour of the men had been ripped open with a blade. The bodies had clearly been looted for whatever valuables could be taken.

"Well this is unusual…" Alistair muttered sarcastically with a nervous laugh. Zevran walked over to the female mage and nudged her in the side with his foot, kicking the body over onto her back so he could see her face.

"Ah, a foreign beauty. Such a shame to have killed her, one could have had fun with this one." Zevran put on a fake tone of sadness as he spoke, before he pushed the woman's body back so she was face-down in the snow. Lina rolled her eyes at him and made her way towards the entrance to Orzammar. She cocked her head to the side in surprise at the three humans having an argument with the dwarf at the door. The dwarf looked very angry, and very agitated.

"Veata! This land is held in trust for the Dwarven sovereign. I cannot allow you entry!" The dwarf was protesting, but the man at the front of the humans didn't seem to be having any of it.

"King Loghain demands the allegiance of the Deshyrs! And I am his messenger!" Lina pursed her lips as she watched the dwarf twitch; he looked to be seriously contemplating striking the human down.

"I don't _care _if you're the king's damned wiper, Orzammar will have none but it's own until our throne is settled." The human took a step forward at those words from the dwarf, his hand reaching for his sword, and Lina stepped forward in hopes of distracting them both.

"Excuse me? I have to speak to your… king?" Lina paused, and looked behind her at Alistair. "Do dwarves have kings?" At the human's exasperated nod, she turned back to the dwarf and smiled. "Yes, I need to see your king. It's urgent." The dwarf gave her an annoyed look and shook his head.

"Everyone has an urgent need! Orzammar has no king. King Endrin returned to the stone three weeks ago, sick over the loss of his son and daughter. We have gone through a dozen votes _without _a successor. If it is not settled, we risk civil war. Now, unless you have a _very _important reason to enter, say, the bleedin Archdemon is sticking his head through the entrance to the Deep Roads and you are miraculously a Grey Warden, then you are not getting in." The dwarf uncrossed his arms and stared at Lina, and she offered him a smirk.

"I _am _a Grey Warden, and although I suspect there's a lack of the Archdemon in Orzammar, I _do _have a treaty that… I don't have the treaty. Where's the treaty?" Lina's eyes widened in panic as she felt only two scrolls of parchment in her knapsack; neither one of them was the Orzammar treaty. Alistair fixed her with a look of alarm when she looked up at him in desperation.

"You _lost _the treaty?"

"I didn't _lose _the treaty; it was in my pack-" Lina was cut off by the human who had been interrogating the dwarf. He had been looking at her curiously for several minutes until Lina had revealed that she was a Grey Warden. His tone was harsh as he spoke.

"Who are you to speak for Ferelden? You are no messenger of Loghain, _that _is for sure." The dwarf, who had started to look rather bored, perked up at this.

"Thank the ancestors for _that_." The human glared at the dwarf, but the dwarf gave him a hard stare and the man backed down.

"The warden's killed King Cailan and nearly doomed Ferelden! They are sworn enemies of-"

"_Will you_ _shut up!_" Lina reached for her bow at the same moment that the human reached for his sword, and the dwarf at the door had to step between them and fix his gaze on Lina.

"This treaty you speak of, does it bear the royal seal?"

Lina paused. She couldn't even remember.

"It might do." She spoke slowly, unsure if she was saying the words the dwarf wanted to hear. The dwarf, however, gave her a small smile.  
"One of your comrades passed through here yesterday with a treaty similar to the one you speak of. He told me he was a Grey Warden and was seeking the help of the dwarves against the blight. You may follow him." The dwarf moved aside to let her in, but the messenger tried to stop her.

"You're letting in a _traitor_? And an _elf _at that? In the name of King Loghain I demand you execute this _stain _on the honour of-" The messenger stopped abruptly when Lina nocked an arrow and sent it whizzing past the human's head to embed itself in the snow. Lina smirked.

"I'd run if I were you, next time I won't miss." The messenger looked as though he were about to protest but, when Alistair and Zevran unsheathed their blades, he ran down the path after giving it a second thought. The dwarf gave her a thankful look.

"Thank the ancestors. You are free to enter Orzammar, Grey Warden, though I do not know what help you or your comrade will find. I have heard rumours from a passing guard that your comrade has aligned himself with Harrowmont. You may wish to follow him." Lina nodded her thanks to the dwarf and beckoned for the others to follow her into the underground city.

Her first reaction to the antechamber was total awe. The statues that lined the first room were detailed far more than any of the Dalish statues that were usually in the campsites, and yet they were all a solid colour unlike the statues she had seen in human cities. Before she could examine them closer, Alistair gripped her wrist and pulled her back with a look of worry on his face.

"Did you tell anyone about the treaties? Give them to anyone?" At his words, Lina looked affronted.

"No! I am perfectly capable of keeping the existence of the treaties secret!" Lina yanked her wrist back from the human's grip and gave Alistair a small glare. He sighed, and motioned to her to walk ahead with him.

"Do you know who this comrade of ours is?"

"Not a clue. I've a feeling it's Tamlen. When I grabbed our knapsacks, mine had been opened and closed hastily. I thought nothing of it at the time, but perhaps he took the Orzammar treaty from my pack when I wasn't paying attention…" Lina trailed off and her eyes widened in horror at the realisation that was dawning on her. Tamlen couldn't have, he wouldn't have known just how angry she would get, would he? "Oh _Creators._" Lina muttered a few elven curses under her breath as Wynne came to the same conclusion she had.

"For him to have done that, he had to know you were going to send him away."


	21. Carta

__**A/N:** This chapter has been **rewritten**!

* * *

_Tamlen_

He glared at the female dwarf as she cast a sly smirk at him, locking the door to the dungeon as she did so. Helpless, Tamlen wondered how in the name of the creators he had managed to get in this situation. He'd performed well in the proving, but he couldn't fight a gang of dwarves! Sighing in defeat -there was no point trying to escape, he couldn't pick locks and the bars were sturdy- he sunk against the wall and nearly jumped out of his skin when he spotted the corpse at his feet.

His fingers curled as he placed a hand on the wall to steady himself, and only when his hand had curled around something very thin and strong did he look behind him and jump backwards. Instead of a chain hanging from the wall there was a dwarven skeleton, being held up with a chain around the neck and two chains around the wrists. Tamlen closed his eyes tightly and looked to a corner where there were only a few sacks and no corpses or skeletons. Knowing it was probably the best corner to sit in he moved and collapsed into it, leaning against the wall with his head in his hands.

The dwarf in the cell opposite looked over at him curiously, and moved closer to the cell doors. Tamlen could feel himself being scrutinised as the dwarf leaned on the bars. Tamlen looked up after a few moments of being studied, and locked eyes with the dwarf. The dwarf immediately looked away to the corpse near Tamlen, and Tamlen recognised the sadness in his eyes.

"You knew him?" Tamlen inquired, pulling his knees up and resting his elbows on them. The dwarf nodded.

"Aye, knew him for a full twenty years. We grew up in Dust town, lived through the hardship together." The dwarf shook his head and sighed, resting his head against the bars of the cell with a frown.

"How did you get locked up?" Tamlen asked, half his attention focused on examining a large gash on the back of his hand that the woman had given him in the course of removing his armour. How she had clothes that fit him in the first place, he didn't know.

"There was a proving a few months ago held in honour of Princess Aeducan. Beraht, the crime lord before Jarvia, had bet on one of the nobles, but he got drunk and couldn't compete. My friend put the armour on and took his place, and we would have gotten away with it had the real competitor not woken up from his stupor and gave us away." The dwarf sighed, his eyes still on the corpse of the dead dwarf. Tamlen looked over at the body and took in the injuries, finding his breath catch in his throat in horror at the deep cut in the throat.

"How did he die?"

"He just gave up... Jarvia handed him a knife and told him to do whatever he wanted with it. He slit his own throat, and Jarvia made me watch..." Tamlen grimaced as the dwarf told him the information, steadily pressing himself further into the corner as he eyed the dried blood around the body.

"Is Jarvia the woman who took my armour and put it in that chest over there?"

"Aye, that's Jarvia. A bitch of a woman, and one of the most ruthless the carta has seen. Speaking of, how did you get in here?" The dwarf looked over at Tamlen, and he immediately felt the sting of embarrassment as he thought of recounting the circumstances of his capture.

"Lord Harrowmont sent me to try and stop the carta. I was idiotic enough to come down on my own, and stupid enough to get caught... I tried sneaking past a few of the guards after I'd killed the first few, but they caught me." The dwarf scoffed at this, looking Tamlen up and down.

"A warrior like you tried to sneak? What made you think you could do that?" The dwarf looked utterly confounded, wondering why Tamlen would try to do that.

"A friend of mine taught me how to do it, and I can sneak somewhat, but I got distracted, and they saw me. How do you know I'm a warrior, anyway?" Tamlen asked, standing up from his corner and leaning against the bars of the cell, mirroring the other dwarf.

"Instinct. That, and you had a shield. Most rogues don't bother with them." Tamlen nodded as the dwarf spoke, barely registering the information.

"I'll keep that information in mind..."

"So what's Jarvia keeping you alive in here for, anyway?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm hardly going to complain to the woman." Tamlen answered, running a hand through his hair and watching the dwarf from his cell.

"One last question. Since we're jail partners now, what's your name?" Tamlen looked slightly taken back at this, but answered anyway in the thought that he'd probably die in the cell, and it would be nice to have someone nearby who knew his name at the very least.

"Tamlen. Tamlen Sabrae. And yours?" He watched as the dwarf had trouble attempting to pronounce the name, and Tamlen repeated it to show him how the last name needed to be let flow from the tongue. Finally the dwarf could pronounce it.

"Elven names, so tricky to pronounce. You topsiders all have funny names. As for mine, name's Leske."

"No last name?"

"No... Simply, Leske."

* * *

_Lina_

Lina could have murdered someone. Not _one_ dwarf in the city could tell her for certain which lord that Tamlen had allied with, and although most of them claimed that the Grey Warden had gone to Bhelen, she couldn't be too certain due to the amount of warriors that had attacked them bearing the recent King's livery. She moved through the diamond quarter in hope that a noble would give her the right answer. She'd walked straight past the assembly hall and was on her way to the palace when a Harrowmont crier started to shout again.

"Bhelen's claim that Harrowmont does not care about the Darkspawn smashed by allegiance with Grey Wardens!" The crier shouted, and although it took a few moments for the words to sink into Lina's mind, she turned almost immediately on her heel and started to move towards the crier.

"You! What did you just say?" As she got closer the crier flinched and edged backwards, a little more anxious, and his next words were not the ones she wanted to hear.

"Everything I say cannot be proved as false!"

"No, I don't care about validity! I want to know where the other Grey Warden is!" Resisting the urge to pull him up to her eye level, Lina stepped back a few paces and moved her hand away from where it was resting against her sword strap. The dwarf eased immediately, and continued his shouting.

"Lord Harrowmont proposes allegiance with Grey Wardens!" Lina felt her eye twitch at his words, and bending to his level she roughly grasped the front of his shirt and dragged him towards her.

"If you don't give me the location of the other Grey Warden right this instant I'll hang you by your in-" She was cut off by the crier, who flinched at her and spoke quickly.

"He went to Lord Harrowmont. You see these stairs? They lead to Harrowmont's estate. He can tell you where he went, now let me do my job!" Lina rolled her eyes as the Crier went on shouting other things about the 'Lord Harrowmont,' and she looked at the three behind her. Zevran was already on the steps to the estate.

"Well, shall we?" Zevran spoke, his hand on the large door handle that was only just bigger than his hand. He briefly wondered how on earth a dwarf could grasp the handle and push the door open, but Lina rolled her eyes at him and gave him a look that urged him to hurry up. He pushed the door open, surprised at how light and easy it was to push, before Wynne ushered them in and they ended up in a large hall.

A small, dark haired guard immediately walked up to them, confusion etched onto his features as he looked at their armour, but when he opened his mouth to speak he noticed that Lina was looking towards the double oak doors that lead to the back. He coughed loudly to get her attention. She looked down at him, and was about to ask a question before he spoke up.

"May I ask what topsiders like you would want to be doing down here in Lord Harrowmont's estate?"

"We're Grey Wardens. We came here to seek an audience with Orzammar's king but, as you can see, one of my comrades has already arrived before me. I need to speak to your Lord Harrowmont in order to find him."

The guard looked her in the eyes, looking for any signs that she was lying to him. Satisfied with what he saw, he nodded and moved out of the way for her, though he knew he would keep a close eye on her.

"I see. I was told to expect your arrival, but I never imagined you would arrive so quickly."

* * *

"When did you send him out?" Lina groaned the question, leaning against the fireplace and resting her forehead on the mantle as Harrowmont paced around her. His words were still sinking in, and she cursed herself for getting so close to finding Tamlen only to have the trail, effectively, go cold. He had been sent out for a two hour job and had not yet returned, and Harrowmont seemed to be under the illusion that the details of the job would make her feel _much_ better than she did.

"He set off sometime around yesterday evening. I believed he could get in and convince Jarvia – the head of the Carta – to give up and surrender... He has not yet returned." Harrowmont watched as Lina gripped the mantelpiece tightly, chewing her lip as the fire danced in the reflection of worried eyes. Harrowmont had given her a good description of the Grey Warden that had appeared, and although she had no doubt that it was Tamlen, she had a sinking feeling that if she found him he would be a little over on the dead side.

"Tell me where you sent him... and if I find him dead, you better hope I bring Jarvia back here whole and not diced up in a burlap sack." Lina cursed vehemently under her breath after her threat to Harrowmont. Quickly, he called for a guard to collect a map for Dust Town to placate her.

"Grey Warden, I would prefer if Jarvia were to come back alive."

"Tough. If the Grey Warden lives, Jarvia lives. If he's dead, so is she. I cannot budge on the matter." The look in her eyes was desperate and feral; Harrowmont rather thought she wasn't even thinking of where she was, rather where she would be very soon.

"Then I cannot deny you the justice you will desire."

"Good reply. Wynne, get your Lyrium ready, Zevran, get your poisons and Alistair, please tell me your shield hasn't split again." Lina shook with anticipation of the coming fight. Wynne nodded in exasperation, tucking a few strands of her white hair behind her ears before she checked her pack for her Lyrium. Harrowmont spoke up once more, tapping Lina politely on her arm.

"I would prefer you bring Jarvia back at least alive. I don't care about the others, I simply need Jarvia. And I hope the paragons have looked down kindly on your companion."

* * *

"What are you going to do, if we find Tamlen alive?" Wynne asked a slow, nearly invisible shadow that was moving along the far wall. It stopped, a smoky mist appearing as Lina emerged from the shadows to point out two Carta members on the other side of the wall. Wynne followed the direction of Lina's pointed finger and silently cast a wintry spell, freezing one carta member in place and making the second dwarf around the corner jump. Lina rounded the corner and plunged her dagger into the neck of the freezing dwarf, watching in satisfaction as the dwarf shattered as easily as a flawed diamond. Zevran nocked a poisoned arrow and aimed just to the left of Wynne's ear, smirking when the arrow skimmed her face and pushed itself into the neck of the other Carta member who had had his dagger inches from the mage's shoulder blades.

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest. I haven't exactly prepared my apology speech." Lina answered, wiping off her dagger and stooping to root around the pockets of the dwarf who hadn't just shattered. In his clothes she found a heavy metal key, and when she turned the corner fully to find an appropriate partner lock, she raised her eyebrows in surprise at the sight that greeted her.

Two large, wooden chests were sitting in the center of the room, pressed against the adjoining wall, one with a key still jammed in the lock and another with several visible scratches on the lid. Behind the two chests were jail cells, not even ten feet away. Close enough for prisoners to see but too far for them to reach. In one cell was a dirty, ragged dwarf, leaning on the bars and looking at her in complete and utter shock. She couldn't see inside the other cell from her angle, but she instantly moved to the first cell to attempt to unlock the door.

The key fit the lock like a glove, and with a rough twist the door swung open. The dwarf jerked into reality at the realisation that, by some twist of fate, he was free. He looked at her in something akin to shock before gathering his dignity, grabbing the dead carta members' sword and then fleeing the way she had entered. Lina watched him go, cocking her head to the side in curiosity before going to the next cell.

Her stomach dropped at both the sight and smell. First off, there were two bodies in the cell; one was recognisable as a dwarf -what was left of one- and the other was propped up in the corner at an angle where she could tell neither the race nor whether he was alive or dead. A skeleton hung on the wall, with little sections of its flesh still hanging off the body. She groaned in terror, shoving the key towards the lock with the terror in her heart making her hands fumble. She couldn't tell exactly who was in the cell, but as her eyes adjusted to the dark cell she could see they were blond and most certainly not a dwarf.

Twice she nearly dropped the key attempting to insert it in the lock, and once it was in she twisted the key harshly and nearly ripped the door from its hinges in desperation. The grind of metal on stone made the person inside stir, and once he looked up Lina's heart cursed her a thousand times. Tamlen's eyes locked in disbelief with her own. He slowly stood up, shaking off the throes of sleep and not entirely sure if he wasn't dreaming. Quickly his look of uncertainty melted into one of relief.

"You found me."

Lina stepped forward and pulled him by the wrists to her. Once he was free from the metal and stone cell she frantically checked him over for any injuries.

Once she had decided he had none that were life threatening, she threw herself at him and trapped him in her embrace.

"Next time I tell you to leave, don't listen to me!" She hissed, giving him a harsh squeeze, and a brief flash of hesitation flashed across his face before he placed his arms around her shoulders.

Leaning back in his own uncertain embrace, she curled both her hands into the front of his prison clothes and crushed her lips to his in a fiery kiss.


	22. The Deep Roads

A/N: **Rewritten.**

* * *

It was common knowledge, once you had entered Orzammar for the first time, that for all its outward splendour and beauty, the bowels of the city contained more dangers to a man's health than a street packed with sewage. Cutthroats, thieves, assassins, warriors, rogues, viruses and disease-infested animals roamed the tunnels under Dust town, and Lina would rather cut off her tongue than spend any longer than necessary in the cramped, claustrophobic tunnels.

Those very tunnels, then, were most certainly the very last place she would ever expect to experience her first passionate kiss. Not with skeletons hanging off the walls and corpses rotting three feet away.

As a little girl, soft-hearted and naive, she had pictured it in a beautiful glade just as the sun set behind the mountains. The only sounds would be that of a nearby stream trickling past, keeping the secret meeting hidden beneath its waters, Ferelden wildflowers would consume her senses and she would feel the fast beating of her significant other's heart beneath her palms.

The only thing even remotely similar to the reality was the fast, erratic beating of Tamlen's heart beneath her fingertips. She could smell death and blood and sweat. She could hear the grinding of metalworks and the bubbling of lava hundreds of metres above, but at the very least the dramatic heartbeat stayed the same.

That his heart was beating faster was a good sign for Lina, and although she knew that a kiss would hardly solve the mounting problems that had grown between them in the past few weeks, she felt that at least now they had a chance of overcoming them. Perhaps the hope was naive, but creators, she couldn't handle this happening again.

As for Tamlen, on the outside he appeared to be equal parts confused and hesitant, though he returned the kiss with equal fervour. At the moment he had begun to lose hope of rescue, he had never expected his companions to come storming through the doors and slaughtering the jailor with little to no effort.

Inside, he was grinning like a fool.

It was only at Zevran's loud warning cough did Lina let go of Tamlen's shirt and pulled back, with her cheeks burning red and an immediate tension between the two of them. A burning tingling rushed through her bones, snapping her senses back into action as she registered the oncoming footfalls of Carta members. She unsheathed her dagger and stepped before Tamlen, waiting for Wynne's wintry spell to be cast.

Two entered through the doorway, and one immediately impaled himself on the held-out sword of a hidden Zevran. The assassin emerged into view as the dwarf coughed up blood, and the elf twisted his sword around in a full circle to finish him off quickly. With a wry grin, Zevran kicked the dwarf off from his sword.

Lina slipped into the shadows, moving closely to the walls towards the small, almost imperceptible glint of armour that was moving towards Alistair and Wynne. Both were fighting; Wynne was in the middle of casting a spell and Alistair was using his sword and shield to bash the life out of an unfortunate dwarf. It would take two strikes from a trained rogue to kill them instantly.

She held her dagger lightly and aimed towards the glint, attempting to pinpoint the inevitable chink in the armour between the helmet and neck. After an urgent moment, the dagger was thrown with the precision that only a Dalish hunter could manage. It flew through the air swiftly, cutting a path through the stuffy underground and spearing its way straight into the base of the dwarf's neck.

The male – possibly a female, Lina couldn't tell – moved to gingerly yank the dagger from his neck. His face was twisted in unimaginable pain, the blood streaming down his neck, and his distraction was enough for the un-armoured Tamlen to make his own contribution to the fight. He moved from behind the jail door that he had closed to protect himself from any stray strikes, and stepped around the dwarf. He grabbed the dagger with one hand, and swiftly pulled it around in a full circle whilst it was still embedded in the dwarf's neck. The throat split with little resistance; Tamlen sidestepped out of the way as the blood violently gushed out from the deep wound.

The dwarf slumped, falling forward and spraying blood onto an unsuspecting Alistair. The templar was still locked in a sword fight with a Qunari mercenary, and unfortunately for him his sword was steadily breaking with every heavy blow from the Qunari's greatsword. Lina slipped into the shadows once more, sneaking behind the Qunari and briefly looking nervous at the thickness and strength of his armour. She raised her Dar'Misu, holding it poised with two hands above the Qunari's neck, before bringing it down with all her strength. At the same time, another dagger struck the base of the Qunari's back before it was quickly pulled out,c dripping with the telltale purple tinge of poison. Zevran then appeared crouching beneath her, with an almost unbearable smirk on his face. Sarcastically, he pulled her blade out of the Qunari's neck and handed it back to her with a mock bow.

Lina grinned in thanks, before ducking to avoid a stray spell cast by the elven mage. She ran quickly to the largest of the two chests in the cramped room, grimacing at the blood-soaked lock as she fumbled for her set of lockpicks. Wynne sent a final spell flying at the elven mage as Alistair drained her powers, and as the ball of magic hit her she withered before their eyes and fell to the floor, dead. Lina breathed a sigh of relief: in a city where the fade was inaccessible to all, the crackle of magic felt like an oncoming explosion. With that crackle fading now that magic was not being directly used, she could relax for a moment without fear that the demons of the fade would take this opportunity to explore.

She pushed her equipment into the lock, deftly pushing the tumbler up with one long piece and then yanking the spring of with another piece of metal to lock it in place. She did the same with the other two tumblers and grinned when the lock clicked free and the chest sprang open.

Tamlen was at her side the moment the chest opened, and gave a small grunt of relief when he saw all his equipment inside. Lina rummaged around to grab the most important parts for him, before she found the treaty at the bottom of the chest. It was placed in her knapsack immediately.

"Here, put your armour back on." She stiffly handed him the leather armour and then took out his weapons, quickly placing them in their sheaths and then attaching them and his bow to the leather strap that held his weapons to his armour.

Zevran stood nearest to Tamlem as he changed, and thus started to help him with the metal fastenings along the back of his armour. He took the leather strap from Lina with a suggestive wink, and stopped his job in order to attach the strap to the elf. It would consume less time to help him with his armour, and thus Tamlen had to forsake his pride and frown as they dressed him as though he were a da'len.

Lina took over the fastening of the armour ties at the back, and almost immediately an awkwardness began again to hang in the air between them, despite their best efforts and steely determination to eliminate it.

* * *

Jarvia knew before the pretty blonde elf had stormed in through the huge oak door that nearly all of her carta was dead. Not all of the men had been stupid enough to fight the group of topsiders that had fought tooth and nail to get to her, and had ran in her direction to tell her what was going on. She would punish them by making them fight here, right now.

She knew that the blond male prisoner had escaped well before he appeared next to the blonde girl in all his equipment and clothing.

And most importantly, she knew that despite the fact that her remaining carta members outnumbered the blonde and her companions, the topsiders still had one hell of a fighting chance.

Lina knew that Jarvia knew all of this, and wondered why in the name of the creators the dwarven woman was choosing to fight her rather than just surrender. Despite this, however, Lina could connect to her. Asking Jarvia to turn herself in and leave her Carta would be like humans asking the Dalish elves to please give up and go live in an alienage; it would never happen, and the elves would fight to the death to keep their relative freedom.

That was likely why the woman was still shouting and cursing about becoming queen when Alistair helpfully whacked her twice with his shield before skewering her with his longsword.

* * *

Lina decided, within minutes of entering, that she totally and utterly loathed the deep roads. The tunnels were high, yes, and there was more than enough room for the four of them to move around, but the place lacked the scent of a breeze and the free outdoors that she had grown up used to. There were no nearby doors that would lead to the outside, to a world with no roof just as she was used to. No, there was only hundreds and thousands of metres of dirt and stone and lyrium that separated her from the sun. The mere thought that onwards in the dark and stuffy air of the vast deep roads was nothing filled her with a sudden dread and a wish to vomit.

Unsurprisingly, after three hours of fighting darkspawn and travelling in the fear-inducing tunnels, Lina felt a sudden horribly familiar feeling pool in the pit of her stomach. Feeling a tug in her stomach and then a watery mouth, Lina bolted to the edge of the bridge they were walking over, hung her upper body far over the side and promptly threw up.

Alistair followed, with Wynne and Tamlen on his heels. At the sight of her vomiting, Alistair had to look away; the sight and smell of vomit usually made his own stomach turn. Wynne rooted through her pack for a sickness medicine whilst Tamlen rolled his eyes at the overly-dramatic Alistair and made his way closer to Lina.

He had dealt with her being this ill many times before. The most recent had been when Fenarel dragged her to a tavern on the same night that the two had been sent into a village to trade, and Lina had arrived back to their tent so completely drunk that he had to tolerate her giggling in her sleep. Only, half an hour later, she had seen fit to empty her stomach of all the ale into a water bucket that had conveniently -and luckily- been inside the tent at the time.

Tamlen sighed, trying to ignore the sounds of her heaving as he took a bandage from his pack and folded it over a few times before placing it gently between his front teeth. He then leant around her and pushed her bangs away from her sweating forehead, making a mental note to tell her to cut her hair later. Awkwardly, he rubbed soothing circles on her back, much like he would in earlier incidents.

Lina heaved again just as Wynne found her sickness mixture in her pack, and Alistair dumbly kicked at a Hurlock's body with his hands over his ears.

"Finished?" Tamlen asked Lina and, with a final spit into the chasm below, she nodded weakly and gripped the cool stone bridge tightly.

Tamlen put his arms around her shoulders and gently pulled her upper body back away from the side of the bridge, leading her down to the floor until she could sit down and lean against the cool stone of the bridge. He took the folded bandage from between his teeth and used it to wipe away the bile and vomit from around her mouth. Lina smiled grimly at him, and obediently opened her mouth when he poured the sickness medicine down her throat.

The process of cleaning her up shouldn't have been awkward for them. He'd done it a dozen times before, and she for him, but a bitter tension still hung between them. It ate at his nerves and made them both tense up every time they so much as brushed against each other. To the both of them, it was as suffocating as the air around them.

"I'm sorry..." Lina choked out, snapping Tamlen from his thoughts as she looked pointedly at everyone in turn. Alistair and Wynne shook their heads at her for being idiotic enough to apologise, and Tamlen gently lifted her chin up to have her look him in the eyes. He ignored how the muscles in her body tensed, reminding himself that _she_ had kissed _him_ earlier; if anything, he should be tense. And even so, her hand reached up to cling to his wrist as he held her cheek in his hand.

"Listen to me, Lina. No one can blame you for being ill when you're trapped underground after spending a life outdoors. Now come on, you need to get back into battle mode so we can find Branka." He let go of her chin and tucked another strand of hair behind her ear. Lina nodded her head weakly, and reached for her water satchel to wash down the after taste of the sickness medicine.

"Quickly now..." Wynne ushered urgently.

"Why so quick?" Lina asked, standing up just as Alistair unsheathed his sword and Wynne started to mutter an incantation. Tamlen pointed to the group of Darkspawn and the angry-looking ogre that had spotted them from their camp fire and were making their way towards them. Lina's eyes widened as she spotted them and her hands automatically flew towards her weapons as they moved closer.

"Not more... surely?" She muttered half-heartedly under her breath, smiling when she caught Tamlen's grin as Alistair charged ahead. Lina allowed Tamlen to follow Alistair, and the two males charged into the fray as Lina and Wynne spread out around them as cover.

Lina swore she felt her stomach drop in tandem with her heart when the ogre picked Tamlen up with one hand and readied to deliver a deadly blow.


	23. Branka

A/N: Rewritten.

* * *

Lina swallowed the lump that had rose to her throat when she saw the ogre pick Tamlen up several feet away and get ready to punch him into oblivion. Her dark eyes searched the battlefield for Wynne, and when they found the mage it was to find her locked in the middle of a complicated looking spell. Lina groaned, realising she would need to help him herself. She switched her bow for the blade and made her way along the walls of the caverns towards him.

As she moved she sussed out any stun points that she had a chance of hitting, and avoided the nearest darkspawn to come near her before she slipped into her the shadows to avoid a shriek that was heading straight for her. She froze for a moment as the shriek examined the spot where she had been standing, carefully eyeing the wall in confusion before it moved to attack Alistair instead.

Lina stayed as still as possible, and forced herself not to gasp aloud when she had to watch the ogre deliver a hard punch to Tamlen. The moment its arm raised to hit him again she darted from the wall and struck the creature. The heel of her palm connected with the middle of its ribcage and sent a shockwave through the ogre. In the same moment, Wynne noticed what was going on and hurriedly sent a weak life ward towards a nearly-unconscious Tamlen. At Lina's strike the ogre momentarily jerked and dropped Tamlen from its huge hands as it looked for the source of the impact.

Lina was one step ahead, and once the ogre had its attention on her she rammed her Dar'Misu into the beasts leg, and pulled it swiftly out again once the ogre staggered in pain. Once it had keeled over enough for its head to be level with her own, she brought the dagger down into its skull, doing her best to ignore the spatters of blood and the pitiful cries of pain coming from the beast as the life faded from it. She twisted the blade around in a full circle before ripping it out and throwing it to the side as she rushed to her clan mate.

The life ward had broken once he had hit the floor, an impact that should have rightly killed him. Lina had seen the ward break, had felt the rush of magic it sent out. She hooked her arms under Tamlen's shoulders and swiftly dragged him from where he had been laying. Seconds later, the dying ogre fell down to the spot where Tamlen had been laying.

She heard the slick sound of Alistair running his sword through a genlock much too close to her to be comfortable and, after propping Tamlen up against a boulder as he had done for her mere minutes ago, she fidgeted for her bow and let her arrows fly into the fray.

Wynne glanced over to the two elves as she froze a genlock and quickly sent a healing spell towards the bleeding Lina's way as a hurlock slashed at her arms. The moment the skin had knitted itself together, Lina nocked another arrow and sent it straight into the monster's skull. Blood erupted into her face, and the arrow she had at the ready flew haphazardly to the side.

Alistair finished off his foe with a quick slash, cutting the arms of the shriek off and leaving it howling in pain. He kicked it to the floor and pushed his sword down into its back before glancing around in utter relief. Wynne made her way towards Tamlen and Lina; the former was drifting in and out of consciousness. A bruise was blossoming on his face, and under it lay a bleeding gash. One side of his armour had split in two, likely from the spikes that had protruded from the gauntlet that the ogre had worn. Under the split in his armour was a long, jagged wound that was bleeding profusely.

The other side of his armour had tangled together, and some of the straps that normally held his weapons up were knotted, making some of his weapons dig into his side. Wynne noticed this and drew Lina's attention by pulling her up from her kneeling position next to his side.

"Lina, get your dagger and cut some of those straps. I don't imagine any of them pulling his weapons to his body are doing him any good right now." Lina nodded, reached for her Dar'Misu and then shifted to his side.

"Sorry about this, Tamlen." She muttered, before hesitantly reaching for the straps and pulling at them. She slipped her Dar'Misu between the straps and his armour, and cut them away with a sharp tug. Tamlen's weapons fell to the ground, no longer pressed tightly against him.

Tamlen breathed out heavily once the weapons had stopped digging into him, and Lina pulled the cut straps towards her to remove them from his armour. Using her Dar'Misu, she cut small holes into the leather of his armour on either side of the split down his left side. She took a bandage that was lathered in health serum from Wynne and placed it over the long bleeding gash. Taking the straps, she pushed and pulled them through the makeshift holes on either side of the ripped leather and then tied them together, like one would on a corset. The fabric joined, held in place from the straps, and the hole in the armour disappeared. Lina double knotted the ties, cutting the ends so that they could not become undone, and then took Tamlen's shield and sword from beneath him.

Alistair took the elf's sword from Lina, and Lina swung his shield over her shoulder and clipped it onto the strap on her own back. Her bow lay on the floor next to Tamlen and, after sheathing her Dar'Misu, she picked it up once more and held it limply as she walked over to Wynne. The mage, busy examining the drifting Tamlen, tutted loudly.

"What's the problem?"

"His leg has snapped clean in two... I need to put it in a splint before I can even try to repair it..." Wynne informed her, and bent Tamlen's leg slightly before letting go immediately at the groan of pain that came from the unconscious blond's lips.

"Can you use magic?"

"It's not that simple. If I just use a healing spell -any healing spell - on the leg and the bone doesn't align properly, he may not walk again. We need a splint, and he can't put any weight on that leg until we can make one. But we can't go back either, not now that we're almost there."

* * *

Lina was not happy. Far from it, in fact. Dried, crusted Broodmother brain had been spattered all over her, settling in nooks and crannies of her armour that she wasn't even aware had existed. Darkspawn blood was now matted in her hair and every step revealed another cold patch of wet blood from the beasts. The situation with Tamlen was going nowhere until the cloud of awkwardness between them passed, and currently the elf was having to be hidden for every battle and be carried everywhere in the deep roads due to Wynne being unable to heal him at all. A simple heal spell would also heal the broken leg and set it wrongly, and so the blond elf had to make do with various health serums being constantly plastered over wounds. Alistair was coughing up blood, Wynne had nearly used up all her Lyrium supply that she had with her, and Lina herself had cuts and bruises on every inch of her body.

And only now did Oghren decide to reveal himself and announce to them all that he had been following them since they had left for the deep roads.

"Do you..." Lina paused, impossibly angry, "do you mean to tell me that, for the past creators knows how many hours, you have followed us and, despite knowing that one of us was horribly injured, did not think it appropriate to show yourself?" Lina crossed her arms tightly: her anger and proximity to the darkspawn was making her itch to grab her dagger and slice it across Oghren's neck. Oghren swayed, a little tipsy from the alcohol he had consumed when following them, and nodded as though nothing was wrong with the situation. Lina ground her back teeth.

"Yeah, warden, I was following but I couldn't let you know, you see, because then you'd send me back, and I'm going to find Branka." He slapped her jovially on the thigh, and let out a loud laugh that reverberated through the tunnels and bounced off every wall. Lina took a step back and pointed at the half-conscious Tamlen who was being carried in the bridal style by Alistair.

"So you saw _this_, and still didn't help?"

"Yeah, Warden, how many times do I need to tell you that?" Lina twitched and took a deep breath to calm her boiling blood.

"I could hit you so hard Oghren... You are lucky we need you right now, or creators help me, I would kill you." Lina beckoned the dwarf to come closer to them now, and no sooner than he had moved over to where Lina was did a very large slate of metal fall from the ceiling and cut the path off.

Lina stared at the metal incredulously, wondering where it had come from and incredibly thankful that she hadn't been standing under it when it fell. It was taller than any of them and so impossible to climb back over, and there was no space to squeeze through on the sides. Not suspicious, until Lina heard the low, menacing laughter coming from behind her.

All of them spun on their heels, with Alistair nearly dropping Tamlen in the process, and came face to face with the one woman they had been hunting for the past few hours. Oghren was the first to gather his wits after everyone had become momentarily stunned at the dwarf's appearence.

"Well, shave my back and call me an elf, Branka?" His comment earned a small glare from Lina, and the dark haired dwarf that stood before them crossed her arms and raised a brow, clearly not amused.

"Oghren..." The name rolled off her tongue like he was a nasty taste in the back of her throat; that sound and the emptiness of her voice sent shivers down Alistair and Lina's back. "It figures you would eventually find your way down here. And what about you? Are you some hired mercenary of the latest king, or just the only one who could stand Oghren's breath?" Branka raised her eyebrow again, turning her head to lock eyes with Lina's as she unfolded her arms. Lina scoffed and shook her head, keeping her gaze on Branka.

"How do you know I'm not just helping him? I could feel sorry for this poor drunken dwarf and be seeking to help him." Lina retorted, crossing her own arms and shifting her stance. This time it was Branka's turn to scoff, and she walked closer to them from the raised level of ground she was on. She reached the slab of metal that stopped them from getting to her and leaned over it. When she spoke, her tone was condescending and too sure of herself.

"Because no one helps Oghren. He is a man who lacks charm and one look at him is enough to make you give up on your own life. I should know; I married him." Alistair whistled lowly through his teeth, shocked at the harshness of the woman.

"By the stone, woman, where have your manners gone? You're talking to a Grey Warden!" Oghren shouted to the dwarf, and a flash of surprise crossed her face before she turned to look at Lina.

"Oh? A Grey Warden? So you are the latest hired mercenary of the King. He chose well; you're the first to reach me in a long time. But can you get ahead just as easily?" Branka inquired, and although no answer was needed Lina cocked her head to the side in wonder.

"What have you done the past two years you have been down here?" Lina asked, using her hand to silence Oghren who was about to open his mouth to speak again.

"What have I been doing? I would have assumed that that was obvious. I hope you'll pardon my lack of social graces, by the way, the deep roads do not require such things and so I do not see fit to use them. To answer your question, I have spent two years here looking for the Anvil." Oghren looked up at Branka, the realisation now sinking in that she wasn't the woman he had married anymore.

"Searching for the Anvil? Blasted woman, the Anvil has consumed you!" Wynne glanced down at Oghren sympathetically and momentarily ignored the stench of alcohol to put a hand on his shoulder.

"Did you find the Anvil?" Lina asked, moving closer to the woman and looking up at her in mild curiosity.

"Fool! Do you think I would still be here if I had? Ahead lay traps made by Caradin himself, traps so complex that not even I have found a way through. I have sent countless people of my house to get past, but none have succeeded. Eventually the remainders left. Even Hespith, my dear Hespith, betrayed me!" The explosion of anger and hurt in Branka's voice was clear, and Lina glanced to the other exit in the room they seemed to be in. Bodies littered the exit; those of rotting darkspawn and dwarves alike.

"Then let me through. My companions and I could surely take a try and win. If I see correctly, there are darkspawn ahead, and two of us who are able to fight are Grey Wardens." Lina spoke, and glanced back at the now conscious Tamlen who was looking at her as if he wanted to say something but couldn't decide if he should.

"You sound confident..." Branka declared to them, and Lina nodded to the woman.

"Lina..." She turned to look at Tamlen, who was wincing as he tried to move in Alistair's arms. "If a dozen trained dwarves can't get through those traps, what makes you think two humans, a dwarf and two elves can get through, especially when one of them is injured?" He groaned quietly; the wound on his side was causing him great discomfort.

"Two of us are Grey Wardens... We can do it, or die trying. Do you really think she'll let us go? Stroll out the way we came?" Lina asked him, pointing to the huge wall of metal that blocked the way they had come. Tamlen sighed, seeing no other option but to agree with her point. Branka stepped forward, a wry grin on her face.

"Very well. If you think you can get through those traps and locks, you are free to try. But I assure you, it is no easy feat. Find the Anvil, or die trying."

"By the stone woman, what's happened to you?" Oghren yelled, his eyes narrowed as he looked up at his wife. Branka cast him a wicked grin, one that was accompanied with a manic glint in her eyes. Slowly, and with a dripping layer of sarcasm and irony to her voice, she answered,

"I am your Paragon."


	24. The Anvil

A/N: **Rewritten**. Wanted to throw myself off the nearest mountain rewriting this. Still haaaaaaaate the deep roads.

* * *

"Lina! Hurry it up will you!" Alistair yelled as a large golem advanced on him. His sword was getting weaker with every movement and blind swing, Wynne could no longer cast spells and Oghren was still drunk. The suffocating gas in the room helped no one. Wynne couldn't focus on her spells due to the burning, fiery sensation that was seeping its way down her throat and up her nasal passages, making a sickness take over her and forcing her eyes to water madly and sting. Her skin burned like someone had lit a flame on the tiny hairs on her body, and she was sweating in places she never knew existed. Oghren, Lina and Alistair were experiencing the same symptoms; all of them were choking and coughing as their lungs burned from the gasses that were being pumped into the chamber.

Lina was crouching her way around the room, almost crawling along the stone to prevent herself from taking in more of the gas than she would at full height. One of the levers had already been pushed to close one of the vents, and three more remained open. Each one was fitted with a small, easy lock that needed to be picked before the lever would be freed, and although easy in normal circumstances, the dizziness and tears in her eyes made it exceptionally harder for the blonde elf to see where she was placing her picks in the lock. It caused her to fumble various times before the second lever was released and, with a pull, the second vent slammed shut.

The difference was clear in seconds. They no longer felt lightheaded and it didn't hurt so much to breathe, although their eyes still protested against the gas still being released into the room. Lina ran quickly from the two levers on the left side of the room and moved to the right, dodging a blow from the stone golem and tripping over herself when she reached the other side. Dizziness hit her as she stopped, although she tried her best to ignore it and shoved her picks into the lock. Blindly pushing the tumblers up, she pulled the spring immediately in the hopes that it would work properly without her being able to do it accurately. It did, and she pulled the free lever to close the third vent.

Moving on to the final vent, she heard Oghren roar in fury as he swung his axe around brutally, hacking the final golem in the right place and watching as it fell to the floor, devoid of life. They breathed a collective sigh of relief for a moment, expelling it with a gasp when the other golem that had been lying in the middle of the room rose from the floor. Alistair wiped at his eyes and hissed in pain, muttering something about it being a bad idea to rub his eyes before he readied his sword.

Lina held her ear close to the lock, listening for the telltale click of a correct tumbler pushed. Her heart beat loudly with joy when the lock sprang open, and she yanked the lever down hard. The fourth and final valve closed, the air cleared and their lungs gasped joyfully and drew clearer air in as quickly as they could. Wynne froze the golem, allowing Oghren to shatter it to pieces with a hefty blow from his axe, and they waited to see if any of the already-killed Golems reanimated themselves. None of them did, and a few seconds later the door ahead swung open and allowed more air into the room.

With eyes still watering and his throat still sore, Alistair moved to the dark corner of the room near the first lever- the spot where they had left Tamlen. The blond elf was laid there coughing into the back of one hand and wiping his eyes with the other, clearly affected by the gas that had been deployed into the room.

"How are you feeling?" Alistair asked him and, although still coughing, Tamlen nodded in the affirmative as as Alistair once again picked him up.

"Tamlen! Were you affected at all by the gas?" Wynne fussed over him the moment he was near, and Tamlen merely cast her a pointed look - still coughing into his hands. Wynne fondly rolled her eyes at him and allowed a small smile to touch her lips as she rummaged through her pack for another health poultice. She placed the serum on two fingers and then rubbed them over the gash on Tamlen's face, her smile widening when she noticed it had nearly healed completely. Tamlen grimaced at the greasy serum being rubbed on his cheek.

"Are you okay?" Lina hobbled over, coughing loudly behind a hand and shoving her lockpicks into the open pouch of Wynne's pack. Tamlen rolled his eyes, irritated at everyone's constant questioning.

"No, I'm not feeling perfect, but I'm not bloody well made of _glass_!" Tamlen snapped at her, and the blonde elf took a step back and narrowed her eyes at him. She rather preferred it when he couldn't look at her to now, where he was snapping at her at every chance.

She bit down hard on her lip and fought back a retort, instead casting her eyes out the open door ahead. She could vaguely see the outline of a giant statue, and silently prayed to herself that they would not have to fight it. Though, knowing their collective luck, she had a feeling that there'd be some form of combat in the next room. Making a quick decision, she unstrapped Tamlen's shield from her back and hooked it onto his dangling arm.

"I have a feeling that you're going to need this."

* * *

They ran as fast as they could through the door that had recently opened, completely ignoring the chests by the side of the door in favour of escaping the moving statue. Once Wynne, at the rear, had slipped through the door she slammed it shut behind her and leaned against it until she felt the bolt slide across. The mage then wiped the blood from her forehead and cursed the deep roads in words that made even Lina widen her eyes in surprise.

"Wynne!" Lina admonished with a grin, but the mage shook her head.

"Don't _Wynne_ me! I've heard many tales of horrible traps guarding treasures in forts, but undead spirit dwarves that keep resurrecting? It is ridiculous!" Wynne huffed, and Lina kept grinning at seeing the woman lose control so quickly. Wynne placed her staff over her back, and her deep breaths came slower until they settled at a regular pace, and Lina simply watched her until Wynne gave her a look to keep going. Lina smiled at her wickedly before turning on her heel, and they walked straight past the golem monument towards the golem directly ahead. Lina found it odd how he seemed to be waiting for her, and the moment she approached the steel golem she clicked on as to who he was.

"Caradin? By the creators..." The steel golem turned his gaze directly onto Lina, and the blonde elf felt shivers running down her spine when she observed the sheer emptiness in the eyes that stared out beneath the cold helmet.

"Yes, stranger. I am Caradin, once a Paragon to the dwarves long ago, longer than I care to remember. If you seek the Anvil, I implore you listen to my story, or be doomed to relive it." His booming voice echoed through the back of her mind and around her ears, and did not seem to be coming from the golem itself. She wondered how he was talking: from what she remembered of the fade when at the circle, Tamlen hadn't been able to move him mouth when he shifted into the golem form. It was disconcerting: she could listen to the words echoing in her mind, but she couldn't truly hear them.

"Speak then... I wish to be out of the deep roads as quickly as possible." Lina cast a grim glance to the river of Lava below them to take her mind off the uncomfortable feeling, but a lump rose to her throat at the sight below. It was further proof that they were at the deepest parts of the earth; the thought made her feel queasy.

"Though I made many things in my time, one item gathered me my status and fame: The Anvil of the Void. It allowed me to make a man of steel or stone, as flexible and as smart as any soldier that could be found on the battlefield. As an army, they were undoubtedly invincible... But I told no one the cost of this incredible feat. No smith, not even if they be as skilled as I was or better, has the power to create pure life. To make my army live, I had to take their lives from elsewhere." He let the words hang as the thoughts ran through Lina's head, and the steel golem nodded solemnly at Lina who had lifted her head to look at him with questions running through her eyes.

"Sounds eerily similar to blood magic. Was it worth it in the end?" The sound of her own voice threw her off: it sounded strange and loud compared to Caradin's. If she had to describe his voice, she wouldn't be able to: it was simply words and sounds in the back of her mind with a faint metallic ring to them.

"Had only my king held the same attitude... I intended to use only volunteers, but my king had other ideas. Soon enough, a river of blood flowed from this place thicker than the lava that flows beneath it. It eventually became too much. I refused to make the golems and, as a result, Valtor had me put on the Anvil." The words sounded harder, angrier as he spoke, and Lina raised her brows at the golem.

"So do you seek revenge?"

"No! Not revenge, for the blow of my own hammer opened my eyes. My apprentices could make me into a golem, but could not control me for they knew not how to fashion a control rod. I retained my mind, and I vowed to find a way to destroy the Anvil. Alas, I cannot do it myself; no golem can touch it. I-" He was cut off by a loud sharp noise, and as Lina turned on her heel to see what had caused the noise, the door Wynne had slammed shut was kicked open. Branka ran into the room with a look of mad, utter despair on her face.

"_No_! The Anvil is mine! No one can take it from me!" Branka stopped metres away from Lina, and her nostrils flared as she focused on the anvil behind Caradin. The way she stared, and the intensity of that stare, made her look as though she was in a trance.

"You! Help me destroy the Anvil! Do not let it enslave any more souls than it already has!" Lina froze, rooted to the spot with an impossible choice. The logical part of her mind told her to preserve the Anvil in order to bargain with Branka, but another part of her screamed that the Anvil needed to be destroyed. However, she also had another factor to consider: Oghren. He trusted her to help him, and how could she refuse to preserve the Anvil and then expect him to go against his own _wife_?

After a few moments of looking back and forth between them all, she steeled herself and took a step closer to Caradin with her eyes fixed on Branka.

"Oghren, I cannot expect you to agree with me, but you _know_ what is right. She may be your wife, but her mind has faltered and cracked down here. I _have_ to destroy the Anvil." At her words Alistair looked around frantically for a place to set Tamlen down safely. Oghren's face fell but a glint of understanding passed through his eyes, and Wynne readied her staff. Caradin spoke again, to Lina.

"Thank you, stranger... your compassion shames me."

"No! You will _not_ destroy it! Not while I still live!" Branka raised a control rod above her head. "Golems, obey me!" Lina's heart dropped to her stomach as half of the golems in the room moved towards Branka, and she unsheathed her sword with a guilty look at the angry Oghren. Oddly enough, Oghren was not glaring at her, but at Branka.

As Lina took a step back, Oghren moved forward towards Branka slowly, and took the first strike. The battle began.

* * *

"So... How many soldiers do you think Harrowmont will supply us with?" Lina feebly asked Oghren as a last ditch attempt to break the iceberg that had arose between them. Fair enough, Oghren had every right to not want to talk to her; she had ordered that they kill his wife and then destroyed the very thing that had driven his wife to the brink of madness and beyond. The red haired dwarf grunted, shrugging his soldiers.

"What should I care how many soldiers the pompous ass does or doesn't send? Besides, soldiers are soldiers; if they can fight properly and act like a proper berserker, then we should be fine. The dwarves will be your most experienced fighters against the darkspawn, Warden, 'cause it's a threat we dwarves have to deal with every day." He took a swig from one of the many pouches on his hip, and swayed a little on his feet. Thankfully, it was the first sip he'd had since he started to follow them in the deep roads.

Lina kept an eye on him after he'd stopped swaying and instead chugged down some more, sincerely hoping that the dwarf wouldn't fall down in a drunken haze. Wynne, Alistair and Tamlen had left them immediately once they had left the deep roads. The mage had insisted on leading Alistair and Tamlen towards the nearest shop so she could buy wood to splint Tamlen's leg and set it. While she had done that, Lina and Oghren had left for the Assembly hall with the crown for the new King, which was Lina's to choose. She chose Harrowmont.

Of course, it also happened that the one time Wynne wasn't with her and she had no back up, she was attacked. Luckily some of the dwarves joined in and helped them against the now-raving lunatic Bhelen.

She was certain that Wynne had probably led the others back to camp by now, and so she and Oghren made their way through the hall of heroes and back to the outside world, where Lina couldn't possibly be any happier to see the sky. Both she and Oghren took their time, the latter stunned by the sight of something he'd never seen before, and the former finally glad to be outside in the fresh air. She spun in giddy circles as she breathed in fresh air, her arms outspread in relief. The tenseness of the gripping claustrophobia from the tunnels melted away in the sun, and Lina was never so relieved to be outdoors in her entire life. She'd been annoyed at having to live outdoors as a child, but subject any unwilling Dalish to the dark, crumbling deep roads for mere minutes and she knew they'd happily destroy all negative thoughts of the outdoors.

Lina breathed in deeply, waiting for Oghren to adjust properly before leading him off and away from the only home he'd ever known.

* * *

Lina sharpened her Dar'Missan with one of the tools that Zevran had loaned her, hacking at it so vigorously it was making Wynne cast worried looks towards the young elf. Leliana gracefully lowered herself down next to Lina, and fixed her with such an intense stare that Lina gave an annoyed sigh and threw her weapon on the ground.

"What do you want?" Lina ground her back teeth together when Leliana gave her a wide, devious smile.

"You've been sat here glaring at that blade since you arrived back. And Tamlen's been holed up in his tent seeing as he's not supposed to put weight on his fixed leg just yet. And from what I hear, some _pretty interesting things_ happened down in Orzammar." She said the last sentence in a sing-song voice, leaning closer to Lina as she spoke. Lina glared at her.

"And what, may I ask, is your point?"

"You know exactly what my point is, my friend. Now get over to his tent, and talk to him. I'm not expecting you to go prancing off into the forest hand in hand, but you have both been best friends since you were both in swaddling clothes. You've a bond that should be unbreakable, so get in there and _fix_ it!" Usually, at such a tone being directed towards her, Lina would have crossed her arms and refused point blank to move. But the bard had a point, a very good point, and Lina couldn't deny that the woman was right. She sighed heavily as she stood up, and made her way through the small cluster of tents until she reached the farthest one away from the campfire.

Lina froze in front of the closed tent opening, knowing that she didn't have the will to do it. How could she face him? She didn't have a clue what to say, what to do, or how to act. The one little kiss in the carta hadn't solved everything, as was proved by the awkwardness that followed and then the bitterness that had replaced it. She didn't even know if they could even become friends again the way she had treated him and he her.

"No. Don't think like that Lina. You're a fully grown Dalish Hunter. Just because you age slower than a human does not give you the right to act like a love struck teenager. Especially when the whole of Ferelden and Thedas are threatened with a blight and their fates depend on your victory!" She cursed under her breath, wringing her hands together in front of her nervously as she contemplated leaving.

Lina turned on her heel, dangerously close to walking away from the tent before she took a deep breath, exhaled, and then turned back, pulling at the tent opening and going in.


	25. Talk

He was surprised, very much so, when Lina had appeared in the entrance to his tent. Her blonde hair was a mess and her face slightly pink from pacing to and fro outside, and she ducked her head to escape his gaze and tie the tent shut. He was even more surprised when she plonked herself down on the edge of his bedroll with a look of steely determination behind her midnight eyes. She cast those eyes on him only once before she crossed her legs and studied his face for any signs of distress. Deciding quickly that she -_they_- needed to sort this out immediately, she moved the lantern between them and spoke.

"We need to talk. And I mean, really talk, and not argue, or shout, or scream or give one word stoic answers." Lina spoke quickly in her nervousness, but was quiet enough for only Tamlen to hear her. Tamlen looked up at her words, and a sad sort of smile graced his face before he nodded.

"We do. But what more can we say? I should think we said enough in that forest." He answered bitterly, and although Lina kept her eyes glued to the lantern, he could see her hands clasped tightly together to hide her shaking. A flicker of sadness flitted across her face.

"It's funny, isn't it? We used to spend hours talking about everything and nothing, when we lived with the clan. We never argued, Tamlen, and if we did we were never angry for more than a day, at most. We were inseparable. And now we find ourselves with nothing to say when we really need to fix this." Lina shook her head sadly, causing her bangs to dislodge from behind her ears. The soft glow from the lantern lit up both of their faces and showed them every scar that they had earned together, every odd freckle that had dotted up over the years and the shades of the circles under their eyes. Tamlen was the first to break the silence.

"Would you rather I speak a lie and have it comfort you until the next time this blows up? Or would you rather I speak the truth, no matter how much it may hurt us both? Is what I have to say going to be worth the pain?" He asked cautiously, and though Lina still did not look up he saw the expression on her face that showed she wanted to say something else first.

"I need to tell you how sorry I am. I'm not trying to make you change your words should I ask for the truth, Tamlen, but I am sorry. I don't even know what made me send you away, and I have no idea how you knew beforehand, which I _know_ you did." Lina swallowed thickly, looking up at him and locking eyes with him for the first time since Orzammar. Tamlen knew the second she looked at him that she wanted to say more, but she kept it quiet and then whispered. "I want the truth, from you."

He sighed, nodding to her as her gaze shifted and her eyes locked with the flame from the lantern. She idly traced small circles on the fabric beneath her as a distraction. Tamlen leaned back a little, his hands behind him to steady him as he shifted his uninjured leg. Finally, he spoke.

"The moment you sent me away, out in the middle of that blizzard, I never knew it was possible to hate someone so much. I was convinced that if I ever saw you again, we'd end up fighting. I hated you for everything and wished nothing more than to erase every moment of our friendship and past from my mind. I was furious. Before you sent me away, I was so convinced that you were frolicking around with Alistair that I couldn't see what was right in front of me." He shook his head, not yet finished; he wanted to test her reaction to his words. As he expected, Lina looked up with her eyes narrowed in confusion.

"I was never in any relationship with Alistair, and I don't know what could have made you think I was."

"I was so caught up in my rage, I couldn't tell the difference between friendship and love when it came to the two of you. But once I'd been captured in Orzammar, locked in that small cell, I'd started to think, Lina, really think. I couldn't ever hate you, not after all we've been through. Not after everything, the good and the bad. After that, I had to hope that you'd find a way down to me in that cell before I died down there, and as my luck had it, you did." He gave a weak smile, one she only barely registered as she looked at him curiously. With a deep breath to steel her nerves, she began to speak.

"I hate that we got caught up in this blight, I hate that we had to go into that cave in the first place and, once, I blamed you for that. Everything about you was irritating me before I sent you away, for the closer to you I tried to get, the further you moved away. But Tamlen, spending those few days without you in camp, I have never despised the presence of everyone else here more than I did then. I need you here, with me. At my side, as if you always have been, and always will be. I love you, Tamlen, but it _burns_."

Lina held her head high as she spoke and shifted from her cross-legged position to a kneeling one. One of her fingers hooked in the loop atop the lantern and moved it left and right in nervousness, casting shadows around the tent. Tamlen watched her, noting how neither of them had brought up the topic of the single kiss in Orzammar, and how they both seemed to be too fearful to do so. A thick tension still hung in the air between them, and it hindered their thoughts of words to say.

After a few more minutes of tense silence, she acted on the impulse that was gathering in her gut. She shifted again so she seemed to look a little taller and moved the lantern away completely. She then quickly swooped in to plant a small, but certain, kiss on Tamlen's lips. It stunned him into further silence, but Lina had a feeling that, at the very least, it would pull them out of this weird awkwardness and allow their friendship to get back on track. It was a promise. She stood up in the small space, and hunched her way to the opening of the tent. Before leaving, she turned around and locked eyes with Tamlen once more.

"I am going to try my hardest to fix this. Every day I'm going to work on getting us to how we once were, before this little slip. Maybe, once we're better, we can take it further, but right now is too soon to do that. But I need you to work with me on it. I can't fix us alone. Work with me, not against me, and maybe... Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves." She smiled weakly at him, attempting to lighten up their personal situation. He nodded in acquiescence, just as weakly as she had smiled. With nothing more to say at the moment, Lina left the tent and made her way back to the campfire.

* * *

"So, you've been given the wrong activation phrase for a rogue golem, we've had to fight hundreds of darkspawn to defeat a demon that was _controlling a young child_, and we've found out that the golem murdered its previous owner. Now _you_ want to activate it. What could possibly go wrong?" Tamlen protested, and Wynne nodded in agreement with him. Zevran merely looked up at the golem with an expression on his face that halfway between disgust and awe. Just looking at the sheer amount of dents and chips on its arms and legs made him wonder how many battles this golem had been subjected to.

"Too late. Whilst you were blabbering on, our fearless leader said the activation phrase." Zevran muttered under his breath. They took a step back when the golem flexed and stretched its body out, humorously unaware of the droppings that fell from it as it did so. Lina swore she saw a flicker of delight flash through the cold, dark stony orbs of the golem when it finally stilled and took in the sight of all the dead bodies around it. Finally, the golem looked down at the four of them, and Lina rather imagined that they looked something akin to frightened rats caught by a hungry alley cat.

"Ah, another fleshy being has gained control of my control rod. Not another mage, I see. Although I do wonder how it came across it? Did it somehow find it in a deep dark alley, or did it wish to find a rod for me and use me as its latest helper?" The golem asked and, although annoyed at being referred to as 'it', Lina looked up at the golem curiously.

"How do you know I'm not a mage?" The golem snorted, a sound so loud that it sent a vibration through the ground around them. Lina was utterly confused at the feel of it. Caradin had seemed to speak directly into her mind, with his voice tingling around the back of her head. This golem, however, was actually speaking. The voice came from the creature, and had equal tone and feeling behind it. How was that possible?

"Does it simply think these stones are for decoration? Hardly."

"Do you have a name?" Zevran inquired, and stared up at the golem with his head cocked to the side. The golem turned its gaze on him and looked far from amused.

"After years of being told 'Golem, do this' and 'Golem, stand over there' I suspect to have forgotten any name I may have had. But no. I was once called Shale." The golem shifted, flexing its stony, rocky fingers and looking around at the four of them.

"Well, I er, guess it's nice to meet you, Shale." Lina murmured under her breath. She kept her eyes locked on the golem and her fingers remained tight on the control rod. Shale noticed this, and spoke.

"Strange. I see it has the control rod, and yet I feel no urge, no pull. You, order me to do something." Lina looked affronted at being ordered to do something, but merely sighed before looking at the control rod."

"Pick up Zevran and Tamlen, and carry them to the top of that tower." Lina smirked, but both of the elves glared at her and took another step back.

"You know, maybe it's not the best idea to be doing that. I've still got a cut on my side, and I think I'm getting a fever." Tamlen coughed quickly and loudly, wincing a little as the sharp movement through his body made his abdomen tense in pain. Wynne moved towards him and placed a gentle hand on his forehead in concern. She widened her eyes a little when she felt how warm his skin was, but Tamlen waved her away in irritation.

"I don't appreciate foreign objects invading my personal space... usually." Zevran muttered with a wicked grin on his face.

Fortunately for the both of them, Shale merely stood still, utterly confused.

"Very strange. It has commanded me, but I feel no compulsion to act on its orders." At Shale's words, Lina took a look at the useless control rod and then snapped it in two.

"Well, no use for that then. I guess you're free."

"Indeed I am. But where do I go? I have forgotten the world outside of this place. And it must have come here for a purpose yes? You must have wanted me for a reason." Shale made it seem more of a demand than a question, and Lina nodded in thought.

"You seem an able fighter. Creators, you're made of stone, of _course_ you are an able fighter. Fancy coming with us and bashing darkspawn heads in?" This seemed to make Shale light up a little, if it was even possible, and the golem nodded at Lina.

"I suppose it will need protection from the darkspawn, seeing as it is nothing but a little fleshy thing. I will accompany it, for now." Lina felt a tight smile tug at her lips, and she nodded to the golem before setting off down the road.

* * *

Lina sat quietly in her bedroll, fully awake despite not being on the nights watch. She was wringing her hands nervously and staring up at the sky in deep thought. A mile. That was how far away they were, and the thought made her nervous. Everyone lay asleep, aside from Sten and Shale, who were taking the nights watch. Her dog was curled up around her, acting as something for her to lean on while he slept and she contemplated her decision. The clearing they were in was eerily quiet, with the only sounds being the soft breathing of those asleep. Leliana occasionally let loose a loud snore, and Lina found it amusing to see how that one sound would make Wynne scowl in her sleep and cause Zevran's hand to unconsciously seek out his blade, despite his state of slumber.

Surprisingly enough, Sten was keeping watch near his tent. His tent flaps were wide open, proudly showing his regained sword propped up against the wooden beam. She smiled to herself, remembering how proud she had felt to have found something worth so much to the Qunari, and how he had now taken to calling her 'Kadan' frequently. He was no longer as tense on watch, although he did keep casting glances into his tent.

Morrigan was asleep off in her own part of camp, and Lina could just barely see that her hair had fallen out of the tight hairstyle she usually wore. However, her movements in her sleep had frizzed and tangled it up, and Lina laughed at the mental image of Morrigan waking up in the morning before the others and immediately working it back into its elegant style.

Lina let her eyes wander over to Shale. The stone golem stood still and was simply staring straight ahead towards the two dwarves who had fallen asleep near their cart. They'd been a little apprehensive when they'd seen Shale stomping her way over to them, and remained a little fearful when she had decided to stay not too far from their cart. Oghren lay next to the campfire, with an empty bottle of whisky in hand.

She looked back up at the sky and mentally noted the telltale sign of dawn approaching. She hesitated for one moment, before she decided on what to do. Ever so slowly, she crept through the camp, with her shattered Dar'Missan wrapped up in a green cloth in her hands. She checked her daggers were still in their sheaths on her side, and then she took the bow from her back and gently placed it next to her tent. Duster had followed her, and his cold wet nose startled her when she stepped back only to have him headbutt the back of her knees. He wagged his tail happily at her nonetheless, following her around the camp and staying as quiet as he could.

Lina could feel Shale's eyes on her as she moved, and she tried to ignore them in favour of sneaking towards the final tent in the camp. She untied the flaps and went in, commanding Duster to wait outside as she tucked the broken Dar'Missan under one arm. With her free hand she gently shook the sleeping Tamlen. She was momentarily thankful that he had slept in his armour: it would save her time.

"Tamlen, wake up!" She whispered, with her hand on his shoulder continuing to shake him until he opened his eyes. She pulled her hand back in time to avoid his reflex of latching onto her wrist in case she was an intruder, and sat back on her heels. His eyes narrowed when his hand caught nothing, and when he looked up –a little groggily- he stared at her in confusion. An awkward silence fell on them, with them watching each other but unable to speak. Finally, Tamlen took a glance at the sky through the tent flaps and frowned.

"Lina? What time is it?" He asked, sitting up in his bedroll and yawning into his hand. His eyes felt gritty, and he rubbed them with his fists as Lina answered.

"It's about half an hour away from dawn." At her answer, Tamlen narrowed his eyes.

"Has something happened? Why are you waking me before dawn if nothing is wrong?" Lina rolled her eyes and waited until he'd fully woken up and grabbed his weapons before she dragged him out the tent.

"I promised you that we would go to the Dalish together, without the others, and I'm sticking to that promise. The others don't know that we're a mile out, and if they did, they'd insist on coming with us. And I'm not sure if you remember, but this is roughly the time we woke up when we were with the clan, so the Dalish will surely all be awake when we get there." She whispered, guiding him by his wrist through the dark of the camp to the edge of the clearing.

"What if we run into a scout? You and I both know the scouts went much further than a mile away from the camp, so we're done for if we run into one." Tamlen muttered. He kept his eyes on the edges of the clearing, watching for any curious eyes, and his ears pricked for telltale footsteps in the silence.

"Yes, but Tamlen, we never ran into any other Dalish, did we? And we were told to escort any elves we found to Marethari. We should be fine."

"What clan is it?" He asked her quietly, and Lina turned to give him a sad smile.

"Not ours, that I can tell. Now come on, we've to leave before any of the others wake up. It should only take us ten minutes to get there." Lina shifted the broken Dar'Missan in its cloth, knowing that it could be fixed once they reached the clan.

A nervous feeling pooled in both of their stomachs. They were fully aware that they were now travelling to a place that would be the closest thing to home they would see until the end of the blight.


	26. The Dalish

A/N: **Rewritten**.

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right way?" Tamlen asked Lina warily; he was confused at being unable to find any aravel tracks in the dirt road they were walking down. Usually, aravel tracks would be visible up to three weeks after they were made, in these dry conditions. There was no reason he shouldn't be able to see traces of them. They'd been walking for nearly fifteen minutes at a brisk pace, as both were eager to get to the Dalish as quickly as they could. This far in, they needed the sense of familiarity that would come with another Dalish camp.

"I'm sure this is the right way, Tamlen. Anywho, you were the clan's best tracker, you should know this is the right way."

"Then why do I feel this _isn't_ the right way?" Lina rolled her eyes at his comment and simply pointed to a pole of twisted vines where a delicate, carefully crafted lantern was hanging from it and swaying gently in the morning breeze. It was clearly of Dalish make, though it didn't look as though it had been used in a few weeks. Tamlen took one look at it and muttered a quiet 'oh' before deciding to keep his mouth shut.

Finally, after a few more minutes of walking, they reached the entrance to the Dalish camp. Three scouts stood guard as those inside the camp were either getting ready for the day or coming back from night watch. The middle of the three, a blonde haired female, stepped forward and peered at them curiously as they approached. A warm smile graced her face once she realised who they were, and she spread her arms in welcome.

"Greetings, brother, sister. You are from Marethari's clan, are you not? I recognise you both as scouts from our sister clan. I must confess, the last I heard, the Sabrae clan was heading north. Towards the forests surrounding West Hill, am I correct? One of your scouts, Fenarel, delivered us the news a few months back. You have come a long way."

"Greetings, sister. We have indeed come a long way, although not from our clan. We were forced to leave them almost a year ago, likely a couple of months before they sent Fenarel to you." Lina answered, and the blonde elf nodded at her in understanding.

"Sad news, but I hope you will be comforted in the knowledge that our clan will be more than hospitable to you both. May I ask why you have ventured to us?" She asked innocently, aware that Tamlen was paying no attention in favour of examining the camp behind her. Lina answered quickly.

"We are here on behalf of the Ferelden Grey Wardens, and we have an urgent need to speak with your keeper." Lina's smile was more of a grimace, and the blonde scout seemed surprised by the answer she had been given as a startled look crossed her features.

"The Grey Wardens? Forgive me if I sound surprised, but I've not heard of any Dalish joining the order since the last blight. Very well, however, I will take you to the keeper." The blonde turned on her heel and motioned for them to follow her with a smile. She weaved her way through the Dalish camp with them following behind her. Lina vaguely recognised some of the faces from the last gathering of the clans, although hardly anyone was looking at her or Tamlen as they moved through the camp. Only the children stared, as they had most likely never seen other Dalish before and their appearence would have no doubt sparked curiosity in their minds.

They stopped near a large aravel, where a thatched tent was standing off to the left and many Dalish lay on stretchers with horrific wounds. Lina looked at them in horror, wondering what could have wounded so many so badly and feeling a swell of compassion for her people. Her thoughts were cut, however, by the voice of the clan keeper.

"It appears that we have guests. And two of our own, no less. Mithra, thank you for bringing them to me, you may return to your post." Mithra nodded curtly at him and left, leaving Lina and Tamlen to talk with Zathrian.

"I am Zathrian, Keeper of this clan. If you came to bring me news of the blight in the south, I'm afraid I already know about the corruption, for I sensed it in the south. And as you can see, we are in no fit state to travel, or I would have taken the clan north by now. And who, may I ask, are you?"

"I am Lina, and this is Tamlen. We are both hunters and scouts from the Sabrae clan. Or were, as it stands." Lina answered quickly, determined to keep her gaze locked with Zathrian's arrogant one.

"And why are you here?" Zathrian sounded impatient, but he observed them with something akin to wonder.

"We are here on behalf of the Grey Wardens. I've a treaty that compels the Dalish to help us fight the blight, and I'm afraid I need hunters from this clan and many others." Lina grimaced as she spoke, looking at the numerous injured Dalish who were being tended to and feeling positively vile for asking such a thing when the clan was clearly undergoing distress.

"Grey Wardens? How did two of our own join such an order?"

"We didn't really have a choice..." Lina admitted, and cast Tamlen a glance as he scanned the area they were in. His eyes stopped on the ring of children who had been messing around with wooden swords but now watched them curiously, and once Tamlen caught their eyes he pulled a face, as he had always done in their home clan, that had them in giggles. Lina resisted rolling her eyes fondly as she turned her attention back to Zathrian.

"Oh? I will ask you at another time how that came to be, for it is surely an interesting tale. As for your hunters, we may unfortunately be unable to live up to the promise we made. This will require some... explanation. Though, I am sure you have seen enough to form your own conclusions. Follow me." He led them closer to the injured Dalish and allowed Lina and Tamlen to take a closer look at the wounds that marred their bodies. Some were weeping and festering, some would not stop bleeding and every single injured elf was groaning in pain and agony. And one common factor between them all was the telltale bite of a wolf.

"What happened here?" Tamlen muttered, loud enough for Zathrian to hear but quiet enough to conceal the undertones of horror in his voice. Zathrian cast him a grim half-smile and looked down sadly at the members of his clan.

"We came to the Brecillian forest one month ago, as is custom when we enter this part of Ferelden. We are always wary of the dangers in the forest, as you know we should be, but we did not expect the werewolves to be lying in wait for us. They ambushed us, and although we drove them back, the damage was already done. Many of my best warriors lay dying as we speak." Zathrian glanced down at the closest elf to him, and an expression that Lina couldn't recognise flashed briefly across his face.

"Dying as we speak... I can see that." Tamlen muttered quietly under his breath, and although Zathrian did not seem to have heard him, Lina did and elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

"Do _try_ to be considerate..." She hissed, her voice barely above a whisper as she gave Tamlen a look that told him to curb his tongue.

"Even with all our magic and healing skill, we will eventually be forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from turning. Children will lose parents, men their wives and women their husbands. The blight must be stopped, but we are in no position to help you. I am sorry."

"Is there no way that we can help?" Lina asked, ignoring Tamlen's raised eyebrow and dark mutter about 'chasing werewolves'.

"The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood... In the end it brings either death or a change into something monstrous. The only thing that can help them must come from the source of the curse itself, something that would not be easy to retrieve, I'm afraid." The way he phrased those last words sent off alarm bells in Tamlen's head. It was almost as though he was daring them, testing the waters with unexplained danger before he would, inevitably, ask them to chase a werewolf or something equally as challenging. Judging by look on Lina's face, she detected it too.

"You're talking about a werewolf. So what do I do? Waltz into the forest and kill one, bringing back a vial of its blood in the process?" She forced a weak laugh to try to lighten the mood, but it only made Zathrian narrow his eyes.

"If it were only that easy, then I would have done that myself. No, deep in the Brecillian forest dwells a great wolf by the name of Witherfang. With him, the curse originated, and with him it can be destroyed. If you kill him and bring his heart to me, I can save my hunters and destroy the curse, giving you your warriors in the process." At his words Lina sighed, ignoring the look that Tamlen cast her, a look of fear and disbelief.

"I'll find this Witherfang for you, then."

"I must warn you, you of all people know that the Brecillian forest is home to more than werewolves. If you think you can indeed help, then I wish you luck. Now excuse me, I must return to caring for my people." With that Zathrian waved them away, and Lina made her way over towards the Clan crafts master, a man she recognised. However, once they were out of earshot of Zathrian, Tamlen grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him. His hands went to her shoulders to hold her in place.

"Are you _insane_? Werewolves, Lina, _werewolves_. If it were a cave of Darkspawn, fair enough, but a dozen of your enchanted arrows won't be able to stop a werewolf from clamping its jaws on your throat and killing you!" Tamlen was close to shouting, so great was his fear. It flitted through his eyes momentarily, before he realised what he was doing and promptly let go of her.

"Then we'll have to get some others from the camp then, won't we?" Lina answered, manoeuvring past him and moving to Varathorn. Tamlen simply watched in annoyance as she spoke to Varathorn, asking him to fix her blade for when she returned from the task concerning the werewolves. She looked for all the world as though she hadn't just signed their death warrant.

He didn't even want to know what she had just got them into.

* * *

"Whoa, whoa, hold up. Werewolves? Why didn't you tell me that before you dragged me here? This is reckless! We need to accept that the Dalish won't be able to live up to their treaty." Alistair protested Lina's decision, completely unable to comprehend that they were going after werewolves. Wynne stood behind him, and although doubt was clear on her face, she didn't voice her reservations, for which Lina was grateful. The forest wolf she had summoned was lying on the floor next to her, alert and staring directly ahead. She dearly wanted to bring Duster, but she didn't want to run the risk of losing him. If she was bitten, she was relatively safe in the knowledge that the others could go on and get the heart, but she no idea if the cure would have worked on her dog and she had no wish to find out.

"You can try, but she won't change her mind. Glad to see I'm not the only one who thinks this a foolish venture, however." Tamlen muttered, and crossed his arms over his newly purchased armour. Lina had traded in her own for a drakeskin set; she had questions for Varathorn when she returned, such as how in the name of the creators had he managed to come across drakeskin in the first place.

"You're a Dalish hunter. According to you, a Dalish hunter fears nothing." Lina mimicked his voice as she adjusted the skirts of her armour, refusing to look at him but knowing fine well that she had hit a nerve. Tamlen frowned.

"I do not sound like that." Lina smirked at him, and held back from laughing at the indignant look on his face.

"If it helps you sleep at night, then no, you don't. Although it makes me curious; myself and Wynne aren't incredibly fussed over this task, and yet you and Alistair are panicking like little da'len." Her words made Wynne smile, but Alistair frowned in irritation and Tamlen rolled his eyes. Lina kept her smirk on her face and sauntered past them towards the edge of the forest path. Once she had reached it she turned, and gave a huff of impatience when she realised that Tamlen and Alistair were looking warily at the path ahead.

"Oh for the sake of the gods, move."

* * *

Wynne held the branch awkwardly in her hand and channeled her magic through it, feeling Lina's grin as they moved towards the misty fog at the top of the hill.

"This has to work this time, I'm sure of it. And if it doesn't, we go back and turn that tree into the next month's supply of firewood." Alistair giggled nervously at her words, and desperately hoped that nothing would go wrong; that tree looked strong, and he wasn't sure they would be able to kill it.

Wynne held the branch uneasily, waving it before her as she pushed through the fog, the others close behind her. A strange pull tugged her forward in a completely different direction to the one they had previously taken, and Lina made this observation aloud as they followed Wynne. They seemed to be walking in the shape of an arch, and twice Lina nearly lost sight of Wynne ahead of her.

The mist cleared after a few seconds and the pull on the branch dissipated. Lina had to stop herself from scoffing at the expected appearance of Swiftrunner on the other side. She drew her bow and nocked an arrow, ready for it if the werewolf decided he wanted to lunge.

"The forest has not been vigilant enough. Still you come. You are stronger than we could have anticipated. The Dalish chose well, but you do not belong here, outsider. Leave this place!" Lina held her bow a little higher and aimed it for Swiftrunner's chest.

"Do you honestly expect me to leave when I've come this far?" She took another step forward, correcting her aim as she did so. She never noticed the white blur on the ledge above her.

"You are an intruder here in our home! You come to kill, as all your kind do-"

"Because your kind killed mine!" Lina let loose her arrow at the same moment that Swiftrunner lunged for her. It buried itself in his chest, and the quick-acting poison had him falling to the ground inches away from her. The two werewolves who had been standing behind leapt into action, and Lina managed to hit another one with her arrows before Tamlen reached it.

The wolf Lina had summoned jumped up at Swiftrunner's throat and knocked the werewolf to the floor, read to clamp it's jaws on his throat. Lina pulled her arrow from the wolf's chest and held it tightly, ready to slash it across his throat to end his life quickly.

A loud howl echoing around the clearing distracted her momentarily. That distraction was enough for the large, stark white wolf to leap down from the ledge and knock Lina to the floor. It's huge paws pinned Lina to the ground as Swiftrunner shrugged her wolf off and scarpered. The other werewolves followed quickly, forgetting their battles with Alistair and Tamlen.

Once the werewolves were safely out of the way, the white wolf lowered its head and growled into Lina's ear and it's cold grey eyes bored into her own. It gave a series of short barks, and flashed white teeth as it did so, before it backed off and followed the werewolves into the ruin.

"Damn it! I _had him_!" Lina cursed vehemently as she stood up and sorted her armour skirts out. She felt like she'd been hit by a moving aravel - that wolf was heavy.

"I have a feeling that that was Witherfang." Wynne informed her as she cast a healing spell over the four of the. Lina nodded in agreement, and pushed her loose bow back into its strap.

"Well, only one way to find out." They followed the path that the werewolves had taken, and stopped at the entrance to a very large, ancient ruin. Lina froze in place, completely oblivious to the werewolves ahead of her fleeing back into the ruin. Wynne and Alistair stopped to admire the old arches of the ruin, unaware of their leader's turmoil. Tamlen's reaction, on the other hand, was exactly the same as Lina's.

Lina remembered all too well the last time she had entered a Tevinter ruin like this one, and she had no doubt Tamlen was running the same thoughts through his head. She could remember the details etched into the ancient stone, ancient runes of protection and tales she couldn't decipher. Tamlen could remember all that and more; he could vividly remember running through the ruin in a haze, panicking and sweating and convinced that the darkness was chasing him. Laying down away from the stone that reminded him of his missing clanmate; laying down to die.

What was bad for Lina was ten times worse for Tamlen. She could not remember her own fevered attempt to escape from the ruin: Tamlen could.

Lina gave a weak laugh to mask her lapse in confidence, and glanced behind her to look at Tamlen. His face was a mask of horror. He had hoped, prayed -perhaps blindly- that he would never have to encounter another Tevinter ruin in his life. An internal struggle was clear in his eyes: stay or leave. Lina reached out and took his hand in her own, a gesture of comfort, and gave a small smile.

"Hey, this time, if we come across a Tevinter mirror, let's not touch it, okay?"


	27. Witherfang

**A/N: Rewritten.**

* * *

"I think you need to calm down; you're overreacting." Tamlen gently wrapped a hand around Lina's upper arm and tried to pull her back from the closed door, even as the blonde slammed her fists repeatedly on it in an attempt to break in. They had not ventured far in before they'd glimpsed a werewolf fleeing down this corridor and into the room on the other side of the door. Lina had immediately pushed all fears of the ruin to the back of her mind and took chase, only to give an inhuman scream of frustration at the barricaded door.

"No, I am _not_ overreacting! We acquired a huge stone golem for a reason: this bloody door is that reason!" Lina gave a final frustrated kick to the door before allowing Tamlen to guide her away.

"Given up?" Alistair asked her with a smirk, prompting Lina to roll her eyes at him as she stepped over the rotting corpses.

"Next time you persuade me not to bring Shale, I'm using you as a battering ram instead. Creators know your head is thick enough!" Lina muttered under her breath, giving Alistair a glare before continuing forward.

"You wound me!" Was all Alistair said to her words, his hand clutched to his heart in mock pain as he followed her lead. Wynne shook her head fondly and waited for Tamlen to start moving before she took up the rear of the group.

* * *

"Sounds like something big, heavy and dangerous is ahead." Alistair muttered the warning under his breath as the ground trembled beneath them, wary as they descended a staircase in the ruin. Lina threw him a look of exasperation.

"Tell me, how _do_ you human's cultivate so well your talent for understatement?" Alistair chose to ignore her comment when it became clear she was more focused on untangling the silver cord that was wrapped tightly around the tip of her bow. Against the advice of Alistair and Wynne, she had taken the amulet from the arcane warrior's corpse once she'd freed him: now, she felt she had to remove it, since a side effect was manifesting in the form of the feeling that she had deep reserves of mana that physically she did not have.

Tamlen had never noticed her taking the necklace; he'd been too busy trying to warn them of the awakening corpses that they had failed to notice whilst they'd been arguing.

Now, all of them were covered in thick dusty cobwebs from fighting their way through the corridor that had contained the poisonous spiders. The webs were wrapped around their arms and legs, tangling in their hair and sticking to their boots. Webs were stuck to their armour and Lina didn't dare brush some of them away; a couple of the cobwebs over her boots seemed to have very large and unhappy spiders caught under them.

A roar reverberated through the stairs they were on and shook the part of the ruin they were making their way through, and loose stones and dust fell to the floor in piles. Lina's heart beat erratically in fear: it was certainly a powerful sound, and she did not want to think about what was waiting in the room ahead. The forest wolf she had summoned had stopped at the foot of the stairwell and raised his hackles, his teeth bared yet refusing to enter the room.

"How bad can it be if it's scaring a summoned wolf?" Tamlen wondered aloud. Wynne shrugged at him by way of answer and pushed him forwards with a hand at his lower back. Lina had paused to try and nudge the wolf forwards into the next room in the ruin, although she could not push it much without angering it.

"If you don't move in there, I'm going to kill you and summon a bear. You hear me?" She hissed through her teeth, prompting the wolf to growl lowly at her before it grudgingly led the way. Lina kept a hand fisted in the fur at the scruff of its neck as a precaution.

They made it as far as the middle of the chamber, seemingly content with the lack of any beast, before a whooshing sound was heard overheard; the telltale flapping of very large wings. Seconds later, the enraged dragon landed directly behind them, cutting off their escape route. It clearly wasn't pleased to have intruders in its lair and snapped at them as it moved towards them. Lina took a step back to fall in line with Tamlen and flinched when it roared so loudly that her ears hurt.

"One quick question, before we die. How did a dragon get in here?" Alistair asked, dodging to the left as a straight line of fire was blasted his way. Lina took another step back, her eyes flitting around the room momentarily before landing on the huge holes in the ceiling of the ruin that were the result of a cave in.

"Look up, and there's your answer!" She yelled as she switched her daggers for her bow and enchanted arrows. Alistair uttered a small "_oh_" of comprehension before he held his shield even tighter and took a swing towards the dragon.

Lina readied her shots and waited for her openings that could only come when Tamlen and Alistair would move away from the dragon's vital spots, lest she risk injuring her own comrades. Wynne's numerous healing spells were cast out in every direction, although Lina made sure to stay inside the pulsating blue circle emitting from Wynne. The woman's magic healed all of the elf's wounds almost as soon as they were inflicted.

It was an unexpectedly powerful blast of lightning from Wynne that finished the dragon off, and the beast fell to the floor in a spectacular heap of crackling electricity. Alistair removed his metal gloves and examined the dragon for anything of interest. By the time he'd looked up a few seconds later, Lina was already at the large hoard in the corner of the room. When they followed her, Alistair distinctly thought he could see her eyes practically sparkling until he realised he was simply seeing the reflection of a massive hoard of treasure.

"Is this a lot of money?" Lina asked the two humans. She had never been able to comprehend the dealings of human currency, for it was always Tamlen who dealt with the sovereigns she'd gained over the past year. Alistair whistled through his teeth.

"Yeah, that's a fair bit of money, although it's best you just take the sovereigns. The silvers and the little bits will be too much of a hassle to carry around." Lina nodded at his words and opened the money pouch that had seconds before been attached to Tamlen's armour, and placed only the golden coins into the pouch. She handed it back to Tamlen with a grin, aimed at his startled look when he realised she'd taken the pouch without his notice.

* * *

"Put it this way, Zathrian: I could not possibly kill the Lady and all those werewolves in there when there were only four of us. That would be suicide. I left to get you, so you can help me get the heart. Simple." Lina explained, lying to the man with guilt heavily lacing her voice, but convincing enough to make even Wynne believe that was what she had meant all along. Lina had intended to fight, but her instincts had told her to leave the room as soon as possible. She would have only gone back for Shale –and not Zathrian- however, and most certainly hadn't counted on finding Zathrian waiting inside the entrance to the ruin. (The fact that she'd left the werewolves' lair through the door she'd tried to break in through also didn't escape her.)

"You do realise that the lady actually is Witherfang?" Zathrian raised an eyebrow as he spoke, although Lina only nodded to him.

"I guessed as much. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not an idiot. She has the same pattern over her lower body as the white wolf that attacked me earlier." Lina locked eyes with him as she spoke, waiting for him to make his way towards them and the room where the Lady was waiting.

"She is the spirit of this forest, trapped in the body of the wolf. But very well, I will follow you to the Lady, but I will not talk. Let us be off to fight the beast and obtain the heart." Zathrian removed his staff from his back and held it at the ready as Lina led the elf back into the presence of the werewolves with a heavy heart.

* * *

Lina pushed the door to the large circular room open, her heart beating fast beneath her chest and her instincts urging her to get as far away from the room of wolves as soon as possible. Swiftrunner turned once they entered and immediately let loose a vicious growl that echoed around the room. Zathrian didn't so much as flinch, and ignored the werewolf with an arrogant wave of his hand as he made his way to the Lady in the centre of the platform. More werewolves had gathered since Lina had left mere minutes ago, again raising Lina's instinct to run and not look back.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Wynne stood still in concentration, and knew without a doubt that the elder mage was running every possible spell through her mind that she could cast at a moments notice. She had cast a small spell towards the quiver on Lina's back, and Lina suppressed a shiver at the cold that seeped through the metal quiver into her skin. Throwing the mage an appreciative smile, Lina flexed her fingers and watched the conversation before her without listening, ready to nock an arrow the moment any sign of violence appeared.

She snapped to attention when the Lady cast her eyes towards her, unaware of the question posed to her but answering it all the same.

"I'd prefer this to be resolved peacefully, if it can."

"You and I both know that there can be no peace. Their nature is against it, as is mine!" Lina recoiled from Zathrian when he hissed at her and she moved to grab her bow to defend herself if need be. His eyes were alight with a raging fire that proved everything the werewolves had said as true. But be that as it may, she knew in her gut that she was siding with Zathrian. Tamlen stood beside her, morally torn but ready to fight and protect the keeper if necessary. Wynne looked awfully uneasy, unsure of the correct path but knowing that she must agree with the warden. Alistair, on the other hand, looked furious that she was even thinking of siding with Zathrian. He pulled her to the outskirts of the room, allowing to the Lady to argue further with Zathrian.

"For the love of the maker, I hope you're about to tell me that we're helping the werewolves." His voice was a quiet murmur, so as to not be heard by the werewolves, but Lina sensed the disapproving tone all the same and ripped her arm from his grip.

"I'm helping my people."

"Weren't you listening? If we can force Zathrian to reverse the curse, the hunters will be fine and the werewolves will be cured." Alistair started to protest and resisted the urge to grab her shoulders and shake her. Lina shook her head vehemently.

"I don't give a damn. I am helping Zathrian." Lina's words were calm, but her eyes were stormy and did nothing to change Alistair's uneasy mind. He rubbed his hand over his face in agitation.

"Lina, this is wrong. You always do the right thing, helping the good guys. If you help Zathrian, these werewolves will be cursed forever. No one deserves that." Alistair spoke heatedly, watching as Lina ground her teeth together painfully and clenched her fists.

"Didn't you hear me? _I don't care_. I'm on Zathrian's side."

"It's not right." Alistair had gotten angry, and at the rising tone in his voice she began to turn back to the werewolves. In a last ditch attempt, Alistair spoke again. "Oh come on, it's the only humane choice we have! What you plan to do is wrong, Lina!" Spinning in fury, she stormed closer to Alistair.

"I don't give a damn if I'm in the wrong or not! You may have forgotten it, whilst we have been travelling around as a merry little band of companions, _but I am not human._ My view of right and wrong is very different from your own, and I am done with changing my decisions on the whim of a soft hearted prince who thinks me wrong!"

"But-" Lina all but shouted over his interruption.

"No, _you don't get to interrupt_. I have travelled back and forth across this damned country in the interests of humanity, searching for the ashes of a dead woman and travelling miles underground in order to secure _your_ leader an alliance. I _saved your ass_ when a demon thought to make a meal of you, and I am fighting this war for humans when I_ should be_ with my clan a thousand miles from here. I am Dalish, we are sparse enough as it, so if you think for one second that I give a damn as to what is right and wrong when the alternative is to kill a clan's keeper, then you are _dreaming_." Lina threw Alistair one last look of pure fury before she turned once more and marched towards the others.

"Go for the heart, Zathrian, you have my support." Zathrian gave a curt nod at the angry warden who appeared beside him and, a second later, his staff was alight with a spell ready for casting. Tamlen unsheathed his sword and ducked below a paw swipe from one of the many werewolves in the room. Alistair reluctantly unsheathed his own sword in time to block an attack from the grey wolf who had ordered everyone into the ruins on their first approach.

Zathrian released a lethal looking ball of black light towards Swiftrunner, who narrowly dodged the spell in order to protect the Lady in mid-cast.

Lina raised her nocked bow and released the icy arrow towards one of Swiftrunner's thighs, causing him to falter in his stance. The small dip in his body as he faltered allowed Lina a glance behind him, and her breath hitched as she witnessed the Lady transforming into Witherfang. She lowered her bow quickly, and felt energy drain from her bones as she urgently recited the chant that called forth her forest wolf. There was a pained howl as it was pulled too quickly from the fade, but the howl was loud enough that it distracted most of the werewolves momentarily. It gave Alistair and Tamlen a chance to utilise the distraction and drive their swords through the infected hearts of the wolves they were fighting.

The forest wolf Lina had summoned darted through the room with its hackles raised, apparently eager to finish the fight it had started with Swiftrunner outside the ruin. It clamped its jaws onto Swiftrunner's leg and pulled. Blood burst out of the flesh that was ripped off the thigh before Lina had a chance to avert her eyes, and the sight made her wince. Witherfang moved straight for her; the white wolf growled lowly as it slowly advanced. Lina felt a life ward settle over her, and the heat warmed her as she nocked another arrow and let it fly towards the advancing wolf. It hit the beast's leg but hindered it only slightly, and in a panic Lina released more and more of her arrows towards the werewolf. She slowly stepped back in horror, still shooting off arrows, as she realised that her arrows were doing nothing but angering the fast-approaching beast.

Lina desperately nocked two arrows at once and pulled them as far back as her bow string would allow, and sent a prayer to the gods before she deposited them in Witherfang's chest. The white fur stained a sickly dark colour as the wolf howled. But Lina's relief was short lived: the beast lowered its head, whimpering quietly, and ripped the arrows from its chest with its teeth. The ends broke off, with some coming out undamaged, and now to her horror the wolf could move much more freely.

She almost cried out in fear, knowing her arrows were doing no good, and switched to her daggers. She raised one at the moment that Witherfang swung a heavy paw towards her; she easily deflected the swipe and plunged her other dagger into Witherfang's shoulder. It didn't seem to affect the beast, and Lina was sure that the wolf knew exactly how terrified she was. The wolf clamped its jaws on her calf as she stumbled to get away, and was unable to properly bite her with the her leather boot in the way. Lina felt her heart soar as she assumed the wolf had no general sense as to where it was biting.

She comforted herself with that thought until the wolf proved her otherwise. As she raised her dagger to stab at the wolf still holding her leg, it gave a mighty pull and sent her flying backwards onto the floor. Lina scrambled; her heart was thumping in her chest and she was kicking desperately to get the wolf away from her, to no avail, and none of her companions had noticed her fall in the midst of the fight.

Witherfang wasn't willing to let her go free either, and the moment the wolf had released her leg it pounced on her, landing on her torso in the same way it had done outside the ruin, but with a much fiercer look in its cold grey eyes. It snarled and, lowering its heavy head, moved to clamp its jaws around her throat. Only her sharp scream and jerk of her knee saved her, distracting the wolf enough that it lost its balance on her chest and mauled her collar bone instead. Her scream turned to a cry of pain when she felt her collar bone snap beneath her skin.

The wolf, part of it in instinct and partly in a wish to kill Zathrian's main asset, acted quickly. It bit down hard on her exposed abdomen, its teeth wrapping around her as a dragon with human prey, and shook her as though she were a rag doll. She fought to not scream in agony as the sharp teeth cut through her flesh, even when she felt the cold, needle like sting of the poison of the curse releasing itself into her bloodstream. Her blood suddenly felt like ice in her veins though a white-hot pain coursed through her. Tears of pain ran down her temples and into her hair as the wolf finally let go of her, and the pain intensified.

Lina knew it was soon headed for another try at her throat once it had licked it's jaws clean, and although she burned she moved her good arm to Witherfang's paw and ripped out the rest of a broken-off arrow. The head was still intact. Aiming it carefully as the wolf descended on her again, Lina shoved the arrowhead up and into Witherfang's body, twisting it the further she pushed.

The beast let out a loud, agony filled howl that attracted the attention of everyone still in the room at the same time that the lifeward on Lina depleted. Although it healed the minor wounds on her body that resulted from hitting the floor, the magic could not heal the mess that was her collar bone and torso.

Witherfang, amazingly, was still able to fight. The beast turned on its heels and ran at Alistair, the latter having just finished off another werewolf. Lina vaguely registered the wonder at how it was possibly still alive, but the thought was shadowed in the moan that burst from her lips as the curse ran rampant in her blood. Zathrian turned at the sound, recognising it all too well as the same pain-filled moan that had left the mouths of the dying, infected elves in his clan.

Tamlen had heard Lina scream when the wolf had first attacked her, and had fought harder with the wolf he was fighting to get to her. When he had finally driven his sword through the animal's skull, he knew he was much too late to help her. He ran towards her, almost freezing in fear at the pool of blood she was laying in and terrified that she was already dead. He moved towards her and carefully held his hand above her mouth, releasing his breath in relief when warmth hit his hand. Tamlen gingerly pressed a hand to her forehead to ensure she wasn't deathly cold, and instead pulled it back in alarm at the heat.

"Lina, I need you to look at me. No, stay with me, here. What happened? Do you think you're infected?" He knew before her eyes rolled to the back of her head that she was indeed infected, and he rolled her onto her side to lessen the pain that would be caused by the quiver still attached to her back.

"Tamlen! If you don't get up and help, you'll get us all killed!" Alistair fought his way towards Tamlen, taking careful swipes at the only remaining wolf, Witherfang, as Zathrian and Wynne cast spells behind it. Forced to change his focus from his dying clan mate to the werewolf, Tamlen unsheathed his sword with a renewed vigour. As the wolf dodged a slash by Alistair's sword, Tamlen caught its ribcage with his own. It staggered backwards in pain, only to be dazed when Alistair smashed it over the head with his heavy shield. Tamlen stood closer and copied Alistair's movement, and the werewolf swayed on its feet before Alistair stabbed at it from behind. Tamlen pushed his sword through the previous gash he had made on its ribcage, and felt the metal of his sword slide against Alistair's as the wolf howled in agony.

Blood flowed to the floor from its wounds, and as it mixed in with the blood from the other werewolves it made for a horrendously slippery floor. With one last swipe from each of them, Alistair brought his sword down hard onto its back as Tamlen slashed its throat.

With a strangled, guttural howl, Witherfang crumpled to the floor.


	28. Healing

A/N: Rewritten.

* * *

Tamlen gave Witherfang a sharp kick to make sure that the beast was dead before he unsheathed his dagger and threw it to Alistair. The human caught it carefully, and gave Tamlen a look of confusion. Tamlen motioned to the wolf.

"Cut its heart out." He ordered, before turning around and kneeling down next to a nearly unconscious Lina. Her arms lay flat on the floor next to her, her palms flat but fingers scrabbling to grasp the floor. The attempt to distract herself from the pain was failing; her slick blood covered fingers could not even make a decent attempt to scrape the floor in distraction. With her body tensing with every shudder of pain, Tamlen could only watch helplessly, knowing there was no way he cold stop the pain. He pushed some of her damp hair from her face, and felt with dread how warm her forehead was even with the sweat. Her eyes flew open at his touch and she barely contained a yell of pain. A haunted looked flashed in her eyes, along with an emotion he couldn't place, and as her eyes locked with Tamlen's she let loose a howl of agony. It was enough to make even Wynne rush down to her, and the older woman muttered a litany of healing spells to try and force the wounds closed. The gashes stayed open however, and blood was already staining the thick bandage that had been placed onto her side. Her abdomen was getting harder with internal bleeding, and Wynne desperately attempted to force her magic through the infection to stop her from falling unconscious.

"The wound will not close. It will stay open until she either submits to the curse or dies of blood loss. The curse must be removed from her body." Zathrian spoke quickly as he stuffed the bloody heart into a pouch on his belt with concern written across his features. Tamlen tore his eyes away from Lina and looked up at Zathrian in alarm.

"Can't you use the heart on her now?" He asked, half watching Wynne out of the corner of his eye as the woman then carefully healed Lina's snapped collarbone as Alistair did the difficult task of aligning the swollen area with bare hands. Zathrian shook his head.

"Not here. I will need to prepare a concoction with the heart, which can only be done back at camp. Lanaya already has the mixture ready." Zathrian glanced down at Lina and noted with surprise at how she was so trusting of a human mage. The elf's hands were struggling to put pressure on a wad of bandages on her side, and Zathrian grimly acknowledged that she had no choice in who she trusted. Her skin was already taking a deathly hue, but Zathrian was hopeful that she'd survive the trip back to the camp.

Tamlen nodded at him, and gently attempted to distract Lina as Wynne painfully tightened a bandage around her waist. At Wynne's nod, he carefully gripped Lina's good arm and wrapped it around his neck before wrapping one arm under her knees and another around her waist. He felt her tense as he lifted her, and quietly shushed her moans of pain when he shifted her in his arms. He couldn't imagine the pain she seemed to be going through, and he wondered briefly if the werewolves had gone through this when they had first become infected. Her head lolled against his soldier when he shifted her to an angle to stop the blood pooling in her abdomen, and he looked down to see her struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Try and stay with me Lina. I know you've lost a lot of blood but you need to fight it." Tamlen hid the sickening feeling of dread that he felt from coming through into his voice, but he knew that if he spoke again he would not be able to stop his voice from cracking. He'd seen members of their clan die from stomach wounds like this, often after they'd attempted to hunt bears and wolves. They'd never lasted long after they returned to the camp, as Marethari was usually never able to drain the blood in time. Magic could not heal everything, that he knew clearly, and Lina knew it just as well as he.

He forced himself to stay calm in order to stop Lina from panicking: the last thing he needed to do was make her heart rate go up. But it was a difficult task; he could not shake off the fear that was gripping his heart. Lina had been his closest companion for years, and he was far more dependent on her than she was on him. If she died, or turned, Tamlen had no idea what he'd do. He had no wish to fight the blight with Alistair as his only other Warden ally, and he most certainly had no idea how to take up the mantle as their leader. He could not keep going without her no matter how much he needed to. As a teenager, he had sworn by the creators that he would not end up like his father or Lina's mother, unable to go on after the loss of their closest companion, but now he understood with shocking clarity why his father had become so debilitated after the death of his mother.

His terrified thoughts screeched to a thankful halt, however, when Lina's breathing started to even out, and what seemed like a final shudder wracked her body. He tightened his hold instinctively.

A whimper, barely audible and pitifully weak, escape her lips, and Tamlen looked down at her in growing -but hidden- alarm. Her eyes were dull but open, and locked with his after flickering around her surroundings as they emerged into the forest. There was no hint of recognition, only pain and a desperate, pleading look that he knew all too well. It nearly took the breath from him, seeing it in the eyes of his closest friend, and it tore him in two knowing that he could not do what her eyes were begging.

Midnight eyes were still begging him to kill her when she lost consciousness.

* * *

Tamlen restlessly tapped his fingers along his crossed bare arms as he waited, watching the entrance to the tent and hoping for the ward to disperse. He refrained from pacing, since he had been told hours earlier by a frustrated Wynne that if she caught him pacing again, she would prevent his access to Lina until a time when she was fully recovered. Now, he was sitting on the floor and leaning against a tree with his eyes on the tent ahead.

He hadn't seen Lina since they had arrived back to the Dalish camp. Zathrian had thrown Lanaya the heart on their way through and had ordered the young elf to prepare the cure, whilst Wynne had ordered Tamlen to put Lina down in an empty tent. Zathrian had entered to help heal Lina with Wynne, and so Tamlen had been kicked out of the tent. They had managed to keep her alive long enough to administer the cure, however they had then almost lost the elf to blood loss. It had taken a lot of effort and energy from the two old mages to properly fix her broken bones and knit together the skin on her torso. Once the two major injuries had been dealt with, Wynne had salved and bandaged her other wounds and Zathrian had resolved to keep her unconscious with the help of magic in order to allow her body to focus on healing.

They had left the tent after five hours work, and Wynne had erected a ward over the tent that would break for only one of three reasons: she dismantled it, Lina took a turn for the worse, or Lina regained consciousness.

And so Tamlen had been leaning against the tree with a perfect view of the tent for half of the night and most of the morning. They had not bothered to place anyone on watch over the tent; Wynne had known that if anything changed, Tamlen would let her know immediately. Alistair had attempted to join him at mid-morning, but he had cut that time short when he made an offhand comment about needing a serious word with Lina about her actions the day before. Tamlen had proceeded to give the human a long lecture on the importance of clans to the Dalish and on how no Dalish would ever turn on their own, and had then ordered the human to break his fast before it evolved into a fully fledged argument.

The rest of the day passed in much the same way, and the last of the sun's rays had disappeared through the trees when the large fire in the centre of the camp was finally lit. The warmth permeated the area where Tamlen was seated almost immediately, and fought off the chill that was on its way with the night. Most of the Dalish children were seated around the fire and watching with intent as two elders began to cook the evening meal. Small, hopeful smiles were worn by all, and Tamlen felt a breath of relief at the knowledge that the task of finding Witherfang had not been in vain. Everyone who was infected had been given the cure and, whilst most of the clan were still healing, some of the more able-bodied hunters had already begun to get up from their sick beds and start walking around the camp.

Tamlen spotted Wynne near the fire; the human was getting ready to stand up from her seat with her bag of herbs and salves clutched tightly in one hand. He cocked his head to the side in wonder, thoroughly exhausted and unable to piece together what that would have meant, and only when he sat forward did his sensitive hearing pick up the sound of rustling from the tent. With a startled jump, Tamlen realised that the ward around the tent had broken. He contemplated getting up and rushing in himself, but Wynne was already at the tent door by the time he moved to stand up himself and he felt, rather than saw, the force of the ward throw itself back up once Wynne was back inside the tent.

Leliana made her way over once Wynne was out of sight, with Duster trailing behind her. The human had insisted on coming to the Dalish camp once she had heard of Lina's injuries and had brought the mabari with her, to Tamlen's displeasure.

The dog whined up at him when it approached, and when Tamlen simply shook his head at Leliana and Duster, the dog snuffled its nose into his palm. He snatched it back in alarm before he carefully patted the dog on its head, all the while having Leliana smile at the scene in a sad awe.

"He is worried about his mistress."

"It must be, to put aside its hate for me." Tamlen's response was quiet and thoughtful, and he cast his eyes to the tent with the hope that the ward would be dispelled again. It was not.

"I have prayed to the Maker for her swift recovery; I have no doubts that she will be well soon. Was she..." the human hesitated, "were her injuries bad?"

Tamlen motioned to the bloodstained armour that had yet to be washed.

"By the Maker." Leliana's sharp intake of breath drew the dog's attention to the armour. Once Duster had gone over and sniffed it he let out a sad whine.

They waited in silence for twenty minutes before the ward dispelled and Wynne exited the tent. Both Leliana and Tamlen flocked to Wynne to hear her news.

"She will live. Her fever has finally broke with the aid of magic, and I've redressed her leg wound. The werewolf curse is gone from her body, but she's still very dizzy from the blood loss and I'm worried she will go into shock once the magic has worn off. It is for the best if we don't leave this area for a few days, perhaps a week." The mage looked weary but relieved, and the bare flickers of light from the fire hid from view the dark circles under her eyes. Leliana moved closer to help her.

"Could we take her back to our camp?" Leliana inquired as she wrapped a supporting arm around the mage's waist. Tamlen, whose attention had been momentarily taken by the dog sniffing around the tent entrance, looked back up at Wynne at this question. He wanted to shake his head in disagreement if she answered yes, but the mage shook her head vehemently.

"We could, but I would advise against it. It will be best for her to heal amongst her own people, where she will be most comfortable. It should not take too much time." Wynne placed her arm around Leliana's neck and leaned into the younger woman.

"May I go in and see her?" Tamlen asked carefully. Wynne nodded.

"You may. She was asking to see you anyway, and I don't think she'll lay still until she gets what she wants." Wynne wiped the cool sweat from her forehead and shivered in the chilly air. Leliana noticed and removed her travelling cape in order to throw it around the woman's shoulders, and before the woman could protest she wrapped her arm back around her waist and led her towards the fire.

Tamlen slipped into the tent and was hit immediately with a blast of warm air. It emanated from the half a dozen lanterns dotted around the small tent, their fires burning more brightly than a usual Dalish lantern: Tamlen reasoned that Zathrian had placed a spell on them so they burned hotter than usual in order to keep Lina warm. The tent looked oddly spacious despite its small size due to the fact that the only objects inside were the lanterns, a bag of salves and bandages, and a bedroll in which Lina was laid.

If he had to be honest with her, he'd tell her that she looked like she'd been dragged through seven different levels of hell. Her face was pale and her eyes dull, and both were made worse by the stark contrast that the dried, unwashed blood on her face made. Her hair was as dull as her eyes and was coated in grease, dirt and flecks of blood. Her traditional armour had been replaced with a loose blouse and pants, and beneath the thin material of the blouse he could see the thick wad of bandages that kept her stomach wound closed as the magic did its job. Her collar and shoulder were still swollen but, as far as Tamlen could tell, the bone had been healed properly. Lina was laid on her back with one hand laid flat on the bed and the other resting against her chest.

He coughed lightly to alert Lina to his presence; the blonde elf shifted on her bedroll and flickered her eyes over to the entrance. She brightened when she realised it was Tamlen, and not Wynne returning with more potions. She attempted to sit up but was immediately forced back down by the tightness of her bandages restricting her movement. Tamlen noticed she was still very groggy, as her eyes remained unfocused despite her demeanour.

He sat cross legged on the floor next to her bedroll and hesitantly reached out a hand to clasp her wrist.

"Welcome back, Lethallan."

"Did she finally let you in, you fool?" Lina's words weren't harsh, they were spoken with a soft smile, but they took Tamlen by surprise nonetheless.

"Lina?"

"Wynne told me you haven't had a decent sleep since before we left to hunt Witherfang. You shouldn't have done that: now you're going to be as tired as I am."

Tamlen was unsure what to say to that, so he settled for fussing over the fur throw blanket that was wrapped around her waist. She stopped his hands with one of her own as he pulled it higher, shaking her head as she did.

"I'm too warm; between you and Wynne, I'll be lost in blankets." She paused thoughtfully before speaking again. "Wynne gave me something to drink before she left. I've no doubt I'll be asleep in less than ten minutes. I need you to promise me something."

"Anything." His response, lacking even a hint of hesitation, made her raise her eyebrow.

"You will regret that. When I wake up, no matter what time it is, I need you to help me walk to the nearest stream so I can wash my face and arms. I feel disgusting." As she had predicted, Tamlen immediately regretting promising her anything.

"You can't even sit up, Lina, let alone walk to the stream!" He protested, hoping she would give in, but her eyes hardened and she shifted to look at him better.

"I was bit by a wolf, not struck by a horse-drawn carriage! I'll be fine, the magic will have worked by then, and you know I will do it, with or without your help."

"You could faint."

"I'll go crazy if you keep me in this tent for too long." She was stubborn and refusing to give in, despite the weakness that had appeared in her limbs in the last five minutes. He could see that she was struggling to keep arguing, but he also knew she wouldn't sleep until she believed she had won. He gave a sigh of defeat, hoping to argue this when she woke up, and nodded at her.

"Fine. If it makes you happy, then okay. Only when you have awoken, though."

"Thank you. Hey, maybe I'll wake up with no legs from sitting down for so long."

"You're not going to lose your legs."

"Magic has made stranger things happen." This was muttered with a weak laugh. Tamlen realised that she still had a hold on his hand as she relaxed into the pillow of the bedroll, and he gently took it back without disrupting her.

He sat in silence as her breathing evened out over the space of a few minutes, and he resolved to stay there and watch over her as she slept. He knew that he would end up falling asleep himself in the small tent, but was confident that Lina would wake him once she herself had woken up.

With a tired yawn he laid down on the floor of the tent, taking with him one of the unused folded up fur blankets that was resting on Lina's bedroll, and settled a few feet away from Lina. He was relieved that he could quash the dread and fear that had been settled in his stomach since the attack. A small niggling voice in the back of his head kept reminding him of how close he had come to losing her, and he yearned to take their relationship to a new level.

Tamlen feared he would never be able to do it. He had experienced firsthand what their feelings for each other could do to them, and he knew that it had taken a lot of effort on both sides to get over that explosive fight. They had still been walking on eggshells around each other before they had arrived at the Dalish and, whilst he knew that this was likely to bring them even closer together, he feared that this would prove to be only a temporary reprieve from the stilted conversations they had been suffering from since Orzammar.

But he knew without a doubt that he loved her, and it was growing everyday in a way he never knew possible. She defined him, acted as his anchor in their increasingly human surroundings and he knew he had to repeat to her what she already knew.

With another tired yawn being repressed, Tamlen let his eyes drift shut as he reflected on the last few days. He knew that the days ahead with an injured Lina were going to be long ones indeed.


	29. The Dalish Tale

**A/N:** Rewritten. Changed the tale from Leliana quite a bit and cut it down!

* * *

"There was a tale I once heard, when I was travelling in Orlais, about the Dalish." Leliana attempted once more to start a conversation between herself and the tired young elves around her and, for the first time in an hour, she was successful. They were huddled around the small fire, herself, Lina and three young girls, when they livened up at her words.

The young girls had heard tales all evening from Leliana about the female warden's escapades in Orzammar and the Circle of Magi; Leliana had been eager to indulge their curiosity and Lina had been far too interested in the bard's stories to pass up the opportunity.

"Could you tell us? Hahren Sarel does not often tell us tales about the other clans in Ferelden, much less the ones in Orlais." As the eldest girl spoke Lina looked at her friend curiously: this would no doubt prove to be interesting.

"I certainly could. I was told this by an elven lady many years ago, so many of my details may be incorrect. It concerns two Dalish elves who helped during the fourth blight." Leliana gave a sweet smile as she spoke, dragging out the moment, and the three young elves huddled closer to her. Lina herself slipped off the log and on to the floor in order to get closer to the heat of the fire. She had to admit, her curiosity was piqued.

"You have to, of course, have heard of Garahel, the famous elf who fought the great archdemon, Andoral? He enlisted two of his Orlesian Dalish kin to help him in the final battle in Ayesleigh. One of these elves, the male, became a Grey Warden, and his female companion left their clan to join him in the war, but she did not become a Grey Warden. Now, these two elves were very much in love with each other, and the war had forced them to confront their feelings at a time when the blight was forcing them apart." Lina, who had been nodding along as she listened to the bard's words, froze when she registered the last sentence. Quickly hiding the suspicion on her face, she shot a look towards Leliana, but the bard continued spinning her tale. To anyone looking on, the women looked to be hatching a secret plan.

"There were times when Garahel would leave his main army with only a few of his companions as he travelled into the towns in order to gather his army. One evening, just as the sun set, he decided to go into a small settlement on the border of Antiva in order to hear any news in the local tavern. For this task he took the female elf with him for her superior hearing, along with four or five experienced Grey Warden's.

'When their venture turned up nothing of interest, they returned to the camp, uneasy and disheartened. They found it had been attacked by the darkspawn. An area of tents a mile across had been burned to the ground, and all their rations and equipment within them was useless. And yet, miraculously, there had been only a few fatalities. One of these was the Dalish Warden."

Lina almost rolled her eyes at the predictability of the tale, but restrained herself and listened with continued interest at how the bard would finish her tale. One of the young elves, a redhead, leant forward towards the human.

"What happened to the female?"

"She fought with the mages to try to reconnect the dead's spirits to their bodies, but of all the Warden's who died that day, not one lingered. Death had been a release from a long and dangerous war that no one had wanted. She fought on, of course, but once the Archdemon was dead in Ayesleigh, she left to go back to her clan. She never made it." There was echo of sadness to Leliana's voice, and Lina had to take a moment to truly appreciate the woman's skills.

"Is that it?" Lina was surprised to hear the words come from her own mouth but, knowing the trance that Leliana's tales had the ability to put her in, she knew she shouldn't be.

"No. There are tales near Lake Celestine in Orlais, her place of birth, about a spirit who wanders the surrounding forests in mourning for her lost love. They say her cries can be heard as far out as The Dales to the east; a heart wrenching sound that envelops the lake and traps it in dismal silence. She mourns there still."

A silence descended on the group for a few minutes as everyone contemplated Leliana's tale. The young girls looked contemplative of the tale and admiring of Leliana herself, and after a moment the eldest leant forward.

"I know your tale cannot be true, and yet it does not surprise me that I have never heard it before: such a tale is simply too upsetting for the Dalish to pass down through the clans." She gave Leliana a small nod of appreciation as the girls stood to retire to their tents. "I thank you for sharing it with us."

Leliana gave the young elf a wide grin of thanks, and Lina noticed the slight tinge of a blush on the human's cheeks. She shrugged, however, at Lina's gaze and leant back as far as she could without losing her balance, oblivious to the curious look in her friend's eyes.

"Did you make that up as you were going along?" Her words snapped Leliana to attention, and the bard gave her a sheepish look in response.

"I know my history, dear friend, and I can weave a story like no other. I may have taken a little inspiration from our circumstances, however." Leliana's grin was cheeky when Lina sighed, but it turned serious quickly when a thought occurred to her. "You really should tell him, you know."

Her words were a surprise to Lina who, under the piercing gaze of the bard, shuffled closer to the fire in her discomfort.

"Anything I could say, he already knows. He knows how I feel, and I know how he feels. The ball is in his court, as you human's say." Lina's shoulders slumped almost imperceptibly, but the bard caught it.

"What has happened?"

"Nothing. That's the point. We were in the clearing, talking, and I thought he was finally coming back around, that all his caution was gone, and then a bloody drunk Oghren decided to wander into the clearing. And well, that was the end of _that_. He's not mentioned anything since, and you know what he's like, he'll have resolved to put it at the back of his mind for now."

"Something else is bothering you."

"Zathrian told me there is talk of another Arlathven, to occur once the blight is over. He was telling me that there was a possibility that I would be given a large number of bonding proposals, and that I should be prepared to be treated like some sort of prize to be won. Yet all I could think about when he was talking to me was that I was never going to make it that far. This blight will kill us, the wardens, no doubt." Her voice was tinged with a bitterness Leliana had never heard from her before, and she shook her head desperately at her friend's words.

"You don't know that." At those words, Lina scoffed, unable to believe them.

"Three Grey Wardens against an Archdemon? I know we'll have armies at our backs but we'll be expected at the front lines. I don't think any of us will survive this. We will make it to the Archdemon, but I don't think the Ferelden wardens will be here for much longer." Her words were harsh, but Leliana saw her logic and couldn't disagree: after all, it was far more likely that they would all fail to see the blight through to the bitter end.

"Anyway, I'm hoping we can get to Denerim by the end of next week. We've been here two weeks now and I want all our business in Denerim cleared up before we head to Redcliffe. I think if we try to sort our business out with a landsmeet looming over us, we'll never get anything done." Lina shuffled back up onto the log in order to stretch out her legs, but the small movement sent a shooting pain up her side and she found herself staying as still as possible on the log.

"Will you want to leave the Dalish?" Leliana asked with a yawn, laying down across the log and gently resting her head in Lina's lap. The elf gave a small laugh at her human friend.

"Not really. But this isn't my clan, so I will not be too heartbroken. We managed to send letters off to our own clan yesterday with the messenger. Zathrian thinks they're camped out in the forests near Amaranthine." Tamlen had addressed his letter, oddly, to Marethari, whereas Lina had penned hers to Ashalle. She knew the mothering elf would likely be sick with worry for her, and she wanted to assure her that she was fine, and that all was going well.

Lina had a smile on her face already at the thought of the joy her old guardian would feel at hearing from her.

* * *

"What is wrong with Leliana?" Tamlen asked his question quietly, directed at Lina though he was not looking at her. His fingers were flexing over his sword out of habit, and his ears, though listening for Lina's answer, were listening attentively to any background noise in the forest around them.

They were taking the night watch together, with the aid of Duster, and were seated at opposite ends of the entrance to the clearing they were camped in. Tamlen was sat cross-legged on the floor with his sword on one side and the dog on the other, and Lina was seated opposite him. She was hunched over and carefully dipping her arrows into a flask of poison that Zevran had made up earlier in the day. She looked up at his question, a look of concentration still on her face, and darted her eyes to the sleeping form of Leliana.

"You remember our trip to Denerim a few weeks ago? She's been quiet since then, if you've noticed, and so has Alistair." Lina placed her arrows and poison to the side and leant back on the grass, spreading her palms flat behind her and tilting her head to look up at the sky. There was only a sliver of visible moonlight through the clouds that barely lit up the path to the clearing, and it was for this reason that the two elves had been chosen for the night watch.

"I've noticed, though I thought it best not to ask them. But what happened? You left me in the camp for that trip, if I remember rightly." Tamlen's question was hesitant as he briefly looked around the darkened camp, searching for any unusual shapes in the darkness.

"Well, it didn't exactly go according to plan. Leliana had a bad run in with her old mentor, and I think she's trying to figure out what she wants, herself, for a change. She's confused, started rambling on how she should have stayed at the chantry. I told her she was a bard through and through and she shouldn't change that. She's thinking things over." Lina crossed her legs to make herself more comfortable, and watched as Tamlen processed the information.

"And Alistair?" Lina raked a hand through her short hair at the question.

"Well, we opened up one hell of a pot of maggots with that one. He wanted to visit his sister whilst we were there. He had it in his head that she would accept him as he was, as a brother she could love despite their missed years. The whole thing was just awkward and unpleasant." She cringed. "She didn't want to know him, too much resentment. I thought Alistair was going to cry there and then, and it wasn't until we got back to camp that he said he was going to do things for himself for a change."

"As long as there's no more distractions. Is it a good idea for Alistair to grow headstrong at this point? He might decide he doesn't want the throne."

"Tough, he's going on it. We need to get rid of Loghain, and I can be persuasive enough to put Alistair on the damn throne, else I'll die trying." Tamlen could tell by the tone of her voice that she was adamant, and he flickered his gaze over to the man in question. He was snoring lightly, not loud enough to wake anyone but enough to make Shale twitch with every breath.

"I don't doubt it. How far are we from Redcliffe?" Lina could tell from Tamlen's repeated questioning that he was desperate to stave off the boredom of the night watch. She gave him a smile.

"About a week. Can you believe it's been nearly two months since we left the Dalish camp? I didn't think sorting out the old Dryden fortress would take so long." Lina allowed her eyes to flutter closed as she spoke, wishing to sleep already, but Duster moved over to her to keep her awake with a nudge to her side.

"It doesn't feel like we left the clan nearly a year ago, does it?" Tamlen asked her with a weak smile. She returned it sadly.

"I miss them. I just want to go back. All the times we wished to get away from them, and now we want to be back there. Funny how that happens, huh?" Tamlen nodded at her as she spoke, and Lina sat forward in order to pull her knees to her chest.

They spent the rest of the watch in companionable silence as they shared the weight of their longing for the clan.

* * *

"Oh, I don't like it when you're being sneaky!" Lina's words, hushed but frantic, slipped from her lips as Tamlen dragged her by the hand down an unused corridor in Redcliffe Castle. In response he threw her a grin, before he pulled her further down the corridor.

They'd been staying at the castle for a few days whilst Arl Eamon wrote and sent out letters to the nobles of Ferelden informing them of the Landsmeet. Soldiers had been trickling to Redcliffe the past few weeks to "help the Warden", and the castle was packed with soldiers, dwarven warriors and mages.

The path Tamlen was taking her bypassed all the rooms and, from the looks of it, led towards the battlements.

Once they emerged outside, Tamlen spun and took both of her hands in his, and continued walking backwards towards their destination. He gave her a grin as he led her along the courtyard wall.

"Trust me, I don't do sneaky, I just want you to hurry." He let go of one of her hands and turned to navigate again, but Lina was growing impatient.

"Will you please tell me what's going on!" Tamlen pulled her over to the trap door that led to the battlements, and yanked it open, before he turned to her.

"I'm trying to surprise you." He gave her a swift kiss on the cheek to placate her and prove his sincerity, and then ushered her up the ladders to the battlements. She frowned at him in annoyance, but did as he asked. She had to dust herself off when she reached the top, and then she waited for Tamlen to reappear. He took her hand again when he was on the battlements.

"I was in Eamon's office yesterday when the Dalish messenger arrived. He told Eamon that three of the Ferelden clans had offered help, and that the first would be arriving today." Tamlen spoke as he pulled her to the edge, ignoring the patrol of the soldiers, and had her look out to path leading to the castle.

"Yes, but why are you so...animated? It's not our clan, ours would surely be the last to arrive." Lina turned to face him with a frown, and thus missed it as the soldiers became visible on the bridge to the castle.

Tamlen rolled his eyes fondly at her refusal to hope, and gently moved her head so she was facing the bridge again. She gave a small gasp at the appearance of the soldiers, and her grip on his hand tightened.

"Are you sure about that, Lethallan?"

She gave another frown as she squinted in order to see the soldiers clearly, but once their individual faces became distinguishable it turned into a dimpled grin, one that almost split her face when she recognised the warrior leading them to the castle.


	30. Fenarel

A/N: Still the first and only chapter 30 I've ever wrote! This chapter, as the ones before it, has been rewritten.

* * *

Lina gave a happy laugh and pushed herself back from the edge of the battlements, turning to give Tamlen a grin. He returned it, glad to see his Lethallan with a true smile on her face, and allowed her to grab his hand in enthusiasm and drag him back out of the battlements. They only just managed to avoid barrelling into a guard as he came up the ladders, and Tamlen had to grudgingly shout an apology as Lina kept dragging him forwards. She slowed only when they had descended the ladders and had crossed the courtyard, all but skidding to a halt in front of the stairs to Redcliffe Castle. Tamlen stood next to her, eyes sharp but a small smile on his face, and together they awaited the soldiers from their clan.

Tamlen first noticed, on examination of their faces, that there were in fact a much smaller number of hunters than he had expected. He also noted that, with the exception of Fenarel and Junar, the hunters and warriors sent to help were those who either had very little experience, or who were the weakest in terms of brute strength. It was a harsh decision, but Tamlen's respect for Marethari increased further when he acknowledged to himself that he would have done the same thing: keep the best of them in the clan, and if anything should go awry they would have the strength to protect themselves. He watched them carefully as they waited at the gates for the guards to pull the switches.

He frowned as his eyes fell upon a light haired, pale faced hunter that he did not recognise, and he stepped closer to Lina in order to question her. She merely hummed in acknowledgement when he leant in.

"Who is that, standing next to Junar, on his left? I don't remember his face, and I didn't hit my head that hard in the ruin." Tamlen's eyes carefully watched the young elf: he looked nervous, and was staring around the castle gates as if he was about to be slapped in irons and dragged off to the nearest dungeon. Lina followed Tamlen's gaze and gave a small "oh" of surprise.

"That's Pol. He was from an alienage in one of the cities; he found our clan the day before I recovered from the fever. But by the creators, it's good to see he's put some muscle on his bones. He was scrawny when he arrived, it looks like Junar has been training him well." Lina sounded surprised, and indeed she was for the young elf looked perfectly capable of fending for himself now. It was a stark contrast to the weak and stammering youngster who had been tentatively scared in his new surroundings.

"Did you give him your usual greeting?" Tamlen asked with a smirk. Lina laughed.

"What, the whole speech on how we sacrifice new blood to our Gods? No, I was too exhausted. All I could think was that you were in danger, I didn't care about the newbie. I was polite, and I think that worked out for the best. I'd have likely scared him away." She gave a laugh, but the sound was drowned out by the whirring of cogs as the gate lifted, and the Dalish were granted entry to the grounds.

They marched forwards into the large courtyard, in perfect synchrony. Once inside, the gate slammed shut behind them and they drifted off towards the training dummies that had been put up for them. There were only sixteen in total, but all smiled at Lina and Tamlen as they spread out. Only Fenarel moved towards the duo, an unreadable expression on his face as Tamlen gave him a smirk and Lina held her breath.

He stopped only a few steps from them, his face still, but his gaze was directed at Lina alone. It allowed Tamlen time to analyse the younger man. Fenarel had not changed physically since they had last seen each other, although the same could not be said vice versa. After all, Tamlen had been underweight and dangerously ill when he left the Dalish. Yet Tamlen remembered a competitive younger man, one whom he was friends with but who was insistent and quick to be on the defence when he felt he was missing out. Tamlen was trying to reconcile this memory of his friend with the one stood before him now, straight backed, solemn faced and, by the looks of it, the leader of the clan soldiers.

Lina kept her eyes on Fenarel, noticing all of this but not finding it important enough to comment on. Her lips twitched as she stared him down, and with an exasperated shrug she glanced away and waited for him to say something. He did.

"You look bloody terrible." There was silence for a fraction of a second before Lina burst out laughing, and at the grin on Fenarel's face Lina moved forward to embrace him. Tamlen held his hand out, but Fenarel enveloped it in his own hand and pulled Tamlen towards him in a quick embrace.

"Yes, well, I'd like to see you deal with crazy werewolves and the deep roads, as well as a destroyed circle of magi. It wears you out, you know." Lina retorted with a mock look of exhaustion. Fenarel laughed.

"Oh yes, we've heard about that. Ashalle and Marethari received your letters. Ashalle nearly had a conniption." Fenarel gave a wince for effect, and Lina's eyes widened.

"What happened?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"She went into one of her rants. Wouldn't keep quiet about how it wasn't right that you should have to do all this on your own, the two of you, without clan support. You are both, apparently, 'so dreadfully young' that she considers it an injustice. She also would prefer you to not detail your injuries unless you are fully healed; both the Keeper and Ashalle were not happy to hear that you had been bitten by a werewolf." Lina considered Fenarel's words, and could imagine clearly Ashalle's reaction to the letter. It made her heart pang with a painful longing to see her guardian again, and Lina realised just how much she had missed the woman's advice and comforting embrace.

She missed everything. She missed her mornings with Merrill, on meal duty, and the laughs they had together before the younger elf went to her lessons. She missed the days spent carefree, doing nothing other than hunting or carving with Tamlen, when their biggest worry was the size of their quarry. Even though her life was not much different now, she missed the simpleness of her clan life, where there was no burden of the blight on her shoulders. It made Lina's heart pang painfully to realise that even though she missed her home, Tamlen must have missed it even more. He was much more uncomfortable around humans than herself, and it shamed her to realise that she had not noticed just how much he had kept to himself until she saw him reunited with Fenarel and the rest of the clan.

Tamlen's laugh pulled her from her thoughts and, as she squeezed his hand in an unconscious gesture of comfort, she realised that she had not heard him laugh so unreservedly for weeks.

"Hey, are you okay?" Tamlen's voice, quiet and gentle, dragged her out of her thoughtful daze. She smiled guiltily, happy to note that Fenarel was distracted shouting something to Junar, and nodded.

"I'm fine, thank you. There's a few things that need finalising before the landsmeet; I should probably get to it." She gave him a grin and attempted to push the tumultuous thoughts to the back of her mind, all the while hoping Tamlen could not notice her discomfort. One doubtful look told her otherwise, and she leant up to kiss his cheek before she spun on her heel and headed towards the doors to the castle. One quick wave was all Tamlen and Fenarel were given before she disappeared into the building.

* * *

Tamlen tried to carefully close the wooden doors to the castle behind him, but he soon gave up after the screech of metal on stone echoed throughout the first floor of the castle. The two guards outside the doors gave him matching smirks of amusement that were barely visible in the darkness, and Tamlen left the closing of the door to them.

His nose was assaulted immediately by the familiar scent of burning firewood that came from the many small campfires in the courtyard. They lit up the courtyard with a comforting, flickering orange glow that enveloped the area in a blanket of warmth. It made the courtyard seem very peaceful, despite the problem of the blight looming over them.

Most of the fires belonged to the dwarves, who were huddled close to the flames in a desperate attempt to escape the cool air. Although the cool air was a welcome break to Tamlen, he sympathised with the dwarves who had lived in a warm city with rivers of lava their entire lives. Very few Dalish made up the campfires: most had preferred to camp in the forest just north of Redcliffe although a few, mostly the younger ones, chose to stay inside the safety of the courtyard.

Tamlen inhaled deeply: the scent of burning wood was so familiar that he could close his eyes and convince himself that he was still in the clan, collecting firewood for the evening fire.

Brushing such thoughts away, he descended the stairs two at a time and stopped on the final step, a metre or so away from the campfire that belonged to Fenarel.

Fenarel himself was not next to his fire: he was sat on the same step as Tamlen, with a thick piece of wood in one hand and a carving knife in the other. His jaw was set in concentration as he carefully shaped the wood in his hand, and he barely acknowledged Tamlen with a small nod. The older elf sat next to him, stretching his legs across the ground and grateful to be able to sit with his friend. Tamlen had only ever seen his boisterous friend in such silent contemplation only a few times, and they all resulted into a conversation that centred around all the mistakes they had ever made.

"I was just thinking..." Fenarel started, waiting for Tamlen to get comfortable before continuing. The other elf cut him off.

"Let me guess: you're wondering how strange it is that leaving the clan makes you miss them all the more, and how on earth did Lina and I manage the separation this long without going crazy?" Tamlen glanced at him as he spoke, a small smile on his face, but Fenarel nodded seriously.

"How did you do it? I'm going crazy at the thought of leaving the clan without some of the best hunters." Tamlen gave a chuckle at the question.

"It wasn't easy. We coped because we had each other. There was never any time to stop and think. Once we reached Ostagar, we were thrown straight into battle. And you know how that turned out. After that I don't think we had a chance to think until we reached the Dalish, but then the homesickness was not so bad. It is hitting Lina now though, I think, to see you again. I sense she is feeling guilty." Tamlen paused and scuffed his boot in the dirt for a distraction: Fenarel looked deep in thought, and when he finally spoke it was with a dark undertone to his words.

"A lot has changed since you were last at the clan, Tamlen. I am not so sure you would wish to go back." His words were grave, but at Tamlen's confused look he continued. "Before we left to go north, there was a disagreement in the clan. Few, very few, felt that the opportunity to gather knowledge on the elven mirror could not be wasted. Merrill investigated just before we left, and she brought with her a shard from the mirror that started this whole mess. No amount of convincing can make her give up the shard, and I have half a mind to wonder if she is not hiding the full thing in her aravel."

At Fenarel's words he paled, and Tamlen had to suppress a shudder at the thought of the mirror that started the whole mess.

"Why would she do that? Why could she not let the remains of that damned mirror rot to dust in that cave?" The thought of the mirror being present at the clan, or even just a shard of it, almost made him ill.

"She has changed in the past few months, Tamlen. Lina had left, there was knowledge to be gained and you know she was always alone without the three of us there. She withdrew into herself: Merrill is no longer the confident young elf she was a year ago. She stumbles over her words in a way she has never done before, and has withdrawn to her aravel or the Keeper's tent where she spends most of her days studying the shard." Fenarel's voice had a measure of sadness to it, and Tamlen picked up on it immediately. Eager to move the conversation on, he joked.

"Remember when you had convinced yourself you were going to bond with her? And she turned you down in front of the entire clan?" Tamlen gave a grin at that, but Fenarel gave a vicious hack to the wood in his hands.

"Merrill wouldnt go near me for weeks after that. And Lina had to comfort me for hours, you know. She was carving a shortbow with Ilen whilst you were hunting, and she was pointing the knife at me as she was speaking. Kept telling me that Merrill was lovely but that the life of a keeper was a lonely one, and creators she was terrifying waving that carving knife at me."

"I can imagine." Tamlen's answer was accompanied with a grimace: being her closest friend, he had been face to face with that knife many times.

"But that brings me to something else I wanted to mention. When this blight is over, there is talk of a gathering at Halamshiral. I need to ask you, are you aware of how many hunters from the other clans will be vying for her hand? There is talk of it already from the messengers: a young, female huntress who is the daughter of a former keeper and who will have fought the blight. It is like an auction, and though the Dalish prize love amongst their people, she will be a powerful bondmate. And it's the same situation for you. You will both be as valuable as those with the abilities of old, if you survive."

"It's really too soon to be talking about that, we might not even survive-"

"But if you do-"

"We are together now anyway-"

"Stolen kisses behind closed doors and longing glances over a campfire will not be enough, Tamlen. You of all people should know that if she feels you don't want to be with her, she won't stay. Once that gathering arrives and there is all those prospective bondmates willing to whisk her away, could you stand it?" Fenarel's words struck something inside Tamlen, and he felt the need to speak up as the other elf finished his carving.

"You don't understand, Fenarel. I have wanted to ask for so long, and yet I'm so afraid." They both stood up as Tamlen spoke, and Fenarel clapped him on the arm.

"Take the chance. It's what you really want, and your friendship can survive her refusal if her feelings are not what they seem. The Tamlen I know has more nerve than this. Now enough of this talk, was there a reason you came out to see me?"

"We leave for Denerim in the morning. We've counted who was necessary to take, and who could be left behind, and we have a few seats spare in the carriages. The dwarven general is going, as is the senior enchanter, and Zathrian has sent word that his clan is camped close to the city. This means there is room for you, if you wish to go." Tamlen's words were met with a nod. "In that case, you had better sleep. It's a rough ride to Denerim and we have to leave early if we're to make it by nightfall the following day."

"I shall see you tomorrow then." Fenarel gave him a childish grin as he looked up at the sky, noting the position of the moon. "Or should I say, 'see you later'?" Tamlen shook his head in mock exasperation at his friend. Fenarel often changed from being completely serious to joking in minutes, and this seemed to be one of those times. Yet he felt like he had to leave, quickly, and contemplate his friends words.

"Quel du, Fenarel." With a smile, Tamlen turned and left for the castle again. He preferred to stay outside but Lina had requested he return in order to go over their tactics in case the landsmeet turned against them.

Feeling his friends eye on him as he slipped through the doors to the castle, Tamlen wondered what could have possibly changed so much in the clan as to alter the elf's personality. Was Merrill's curiosity truly affecting the clan in so adverse a way?


	31. Captured!

A/N: Rewritten. I liked rewriting this, it was one of my favourite chapters!

* * *

"This is _ridiculous_…" Lina muttered in aggravation under her breath, her narrowed eyes glaring daggers at the tacky, massively oversized guard armour that she was wearing over her Dalish armour. It fit wrong and made her look much bulkier than she actually was, and a side effect of the size was that the dreadful uniform made loud clanking noises with every step she took.

"You look fine. You are exaggerating, it does not look that bad, nor does it make you look suspicious. Now put your helmet on; you need to hide your ears or it will be as clear as day that we are intruders." Tamlen muttered, and tightened his own helmet as Lina begrudgingly stared at the metal item in her hands. She looked into it with a groan of dismay.

"Oh, I bet it stinks." She scowled as she slipped it quickly over her head and wrinkled her nose.

"Ready?" Tamlen asked, impatient. Lina shook her head.

"If we get caught, it will be because I will give us away. The guards will surely have no problem identifying me, what with my clanking armour that is practically falling off!" She hissed through her teeth, unaware of Wynne's armoured hand on her shoulder. She jumped when she finally realised and spun to face the mage.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but I have a very short life expectancy as it is, and I'd very much like to save the queen and end the blight before I go." As soon as Wynne finished speaking her hand moved down to the square of Lina's back and, with a strong push that belied her gentle nature, she shoved Lina out from behind the bush and followed. Tamlen and Leliana followed closely behind, with the bard keeping an eye on the windows to ensure no one had been watching.

Lina squirmed as she walked towards the doors, having watched the elf who worked for Anora lead the guards around the front of the palace. As quietly as was possible in her armour, Lina slipped into the side door. She was surprised at how easily it opened, but pushed it all the way with her companions following her. They found themselves in the kitchens of the estate.

"I have been here before, although I do not recall there being any dungeons large enough to lock a queen in." Leliana spoke up with a frown, and Lina turned to face her with urgency.

"No dungeons? Did you come through the full property? Entered every room?" Lina asked quickly. Leliana shook her head.

"No, I did not. I did go down most of the main corridors in this place, and there are dungeons, but the ones I saw were full of guards; I can't see how anyone would notice Anora in a cell and not do anything about it." Leliana answered, and Lina's response was a blank stare. She was becoming increasingly worried that the whole affair was a trap.

She was broke from that trail of though as Wynne ushered them further in when the door opened behind her, and Erlina entered through it quietly. Lina wondered if she had heard their conversation. The annoyed look on her face suggested that she had.

"At what point did I say that My Lady is being held in a dungeon? I have never said that! My Lady is being held in a guest room just off from the entrance hall!" The dark haired elf hissed at Lina through gritted teeth, with her eyes narrowed in a glare, her accent thick and anger laced in the undertones of her words.

"Well you hardly told me she was being held in a lovely plush guest room either, did you?" Lina retorted angrily; she rolled her eyes at the increasingly loud elf and looked to Leliana. "Is there a room near the entrance hall?" Leliana nodded at her question.

"I remember seeing one, although we– I had to leave very quickly. I did not venture in, simply glanced as I passed." The bard answered, eyes locked on Erlina as the woman wrung her hands together nervously.

"Please! We must hurry, we may not much time!" Erlina half-shouted, looking like she was ready to shake Lina in order to get her moving.

"Never mind my damned armour, you are going to get us caught if you don't shut your mouth!" Lina went to rub her temples to distract her from the elf, but groaned instead when her hands hit the metal of the helmet. She sighed.

"Ugh fine, _fine_, lead the way." Both elves gave a half nod, before Erlina turned on her heel and quickly led the way through the palace. Lina almost stopped a dozen times when she passed the horrible conditions that her kin were working in under the human's rule. She nearly branded her sword towards one human cook when the old woman started to beat an elf for spilling a sack of grain. Only Tamlen pushing her forward every time he sensed she would stop made her ignore it and follow Erlina.

When Erlina muttered a quick 'in here', Lina roughly pulled her helmet from her head and tossed it to the ground. Her hand moved up to push her hair from her face as Erlina urgently went to knock on the door. However the darker haired elf gave a start of surprise when her hand kept rebounding from the door without making a noise, and Lina stepped forward in confusion.

"There is a magical barrier there, much like the one I used in the Circle." Wynne muttered to Lina, and Lina turned to Erlina just as the woman started to speak loudly. Lina wanted to shake her in order to keep her quiet.

"The Grey Warden is here, my lady!" As soon as the elf spoke, there was a shuffling sound and a scraping noise against the door, as if someone had been sitting on the floor and leaning against it.

"Thank the Maker! I'm afraid we have a setback. Arl Howe has placed a barrier over the door with the help of the mage. I believe you will have to find the mage in order to release me!" The queen's voice was muffled by the thick door, but despite it Lina could hear no traces of deceit within the woman's airy tones. She looked to Leliana, who shrugged at her, and to Tamlen and Wynne, who both seemed to be thinking.

"Oh well that's just brilliant, I come to rescue a queen and only then do I get told that I'll need to fight a mage. Thanks, really."

"Can we not break the door down?" Tamlen asked, ignoring her sarcasm and moving closer to the door. Wynne shook her head.

"You saw how it repelled Erlina's hand. We cannot break it down. We'll have to find the mage." Wynne gave a sigh, before looking back at Lina who was stood looking at Erlina.

"Arl Howe… I heard his name in passing when I tried to get into the alienage. An elf told me he'd been in the alienage and had butchered most of the elves for starting a riot. Is it the same Arl Howe?" Lina asked Erlina. Her arms were crossed as she tried to remember exactly what it was she had heard, but Erlina nodded in confirmation.

"The very same. He tried to stop the riot, but it ended in violence. He killed many elves." Erlina answered, wringing her hands again and looking very worried. Lina raised her eyebrow and looked to her companions in question.

"Well then, shall we go and give this lovely man a visit?"

* * *

The very first thing that Lina was painfully aware of was that she was lying on hard, rough concrete. It was cold under her skin, but seemed to be soothing the many wounds that she was becoming aware of on her body. The second was that her head was pounding as though it were about to explode. And the third, embarrassing, thing that she was becoming aware of was that she was only wearing her small clothes.

She gave a groan and rolled over onto her front: the events that got her wherever she was were replaying over in her mind, reminding her that she had been arrested and knocked out when she tried to struggle. She heard a shuffle beside her, and although she kept her eyes shut tightly, she moved one arm up towards her head to rest her forehead against.

"Lina?" The voice was definitely Tamlen's, and a thousand feelings of worry and relief lanced through her at his single word as he moved towards her to check if she was fully conscious. She shook her head and kept her eyes tightly shut as she tried to find words to speak. Her head felt horrible.

"Ugh… When I open my eyes, are you going to tell me that I am lying on the floor of a tavern, wearing no clothes from losing a game of poker against Leliana, and that my headache is a result of too much alcohol? Are you going to tell me that, or have we really been arrested?" She asked Tamlen softly, trying her hardest not to groan in pain from her headache and the various cuts and bruises. Lina heard him sigh beside her.

"Arrested. Leliana and Wynne were both dragged out of the palace after you got knocked out by that mace, and I was slapped in irons and dragged to this cell with you unconscious next to me. They beat you to try and test if you were really unconscious, although it didn't work… I thought they had killed you. They were going to wait until you woke up to 'question' us." He answered, holding his head in his hands and frowning. Lina sat up and opened her eyes, and was surprised at how she didn't need to squint to see properly. The dungeons were barely lit, most likely to make the prisoners feel even more depressed and fearful inside the fort.

"Have you just been sitting in here?" Lina asked, rubbing at her eyes to wipe away the gritty feeling. She winced when a large gash that covered her palm decided to make itself known. Tamlen shook his head at her.

"No. I paced for a while, but the thought of escaping with you unconscious seemed implausible, so I spoke to the human in the cell next to us. He has no valuable information other than a certainty that we are going to die in here." He made a motion to the older man in the next cell, who was currently either asleep or knocked out.

"I see. How did you try to get out?"

"I tried to make a lockpick from some metal scraps I found in the corner, but it didn't work and I snapped the metal. I should have left it to you. Lina, we're going to die here." The way he spoke the words to her made it overly-clear that he'd had plenty of time to think about it and accept it. He sounded only slightly afraid, more resigned to the fact than afraid of it. She clucked her tongue at him and sat up.

"No we're not." Lina shook her head at him before she looked down at her small clothes. A small thread was loose at the fabric over her breasts, and with a smirk she tugged at the thread and pulled the small patch of restitched fabric apart. "Aha! Should have searched me more thoroughly."

"What are you doing?" Tamlen asked in alarm. His eyes narrowed at her as she tugged the piece of fabric off, revealing it to be an added accessory to her small clothes that the guards had failed to notice when they removed her clothing. She unfolded it and dropped its contents into her hand, and Tamlen gave her a look of surprise when three thin pieces of metal landed on her palm.

"Ashalle always told me to keep them somewhere safe in case I was caught by humans. And don't look so scandalised, because that advice is going to get us out of here." Lina paused, and then threw him a smirk. "And for the sake of the fade, Tamlen, do stop blushing."

She stood up slowly, assessing the damage to her knees, and attempted to walk to the door with her knees buckling slightly beneath her. Once she straightened her posture and walked a few paces, the pain lessened, and she was able to get to the cell door silently without drawing the attention of the guard on the other side of the room. She crouched down to look into the keyhole, and then quickly slid one of the metal pieces into the hole. Lina pushed another one in above it and have a faint hum when the hooked end of the pick caught onto the spring of the only tumbler in the lock. She gave a cocky smirk that prompted Tamlen to raise his eyebrow.

"What are you smirking for?"

"It's a one tumbler lock, the fools. We can reuse the picks later. Now, once the door is unlocked, I need you to take care of the guard whilst I check the chests in the corner." Lina edged away from the door as it clicked, giving Tamlen a short nod, and watched as he kicked the door open. The guard jumped in surprise, but by the time he had comprehended what was going on Tamlen was already close enough that the guard had no time to draw his weapon.

Lina darted to the chests in the corner, desperately ignoring the sounds of the struggle behind her and the instinct to help Tamlen, and deftly picked the lock on the chest. The first chest turned up empty, prompting a hiss of annoyance from the elf, and she frantically moved to the second chest. She could hear clearly the sounds of the struggle behind her, though she could not tell if Tamlen was winning. She fought hard to maintain her concentration, but the distinctive sound of a neck snapping hit her ears, and the bolt of terror that shot through her made her jump. The picks snapped cleanly in the lock, and Lina spun around in horror.

Her heart raced as she made certain that it was the guard whose neck had made the awful snapping sound; she gave a breath of relief when she focused on Tamlen carefully lowering the guard to the floor. He was wincing, and a quick glance up his arm showed a jagged cut from where the scales of the guard's armour had dragged down the length of his forearm during their scuffle.

"Is it painful?"

"I can still fight." Tamlen answered quickly, though the following sharp hiss at the sting of the wound indicated otherwise. Lina gave a sigh, but kept her eyes on him.

"Could you strip the guard and search for a key? I broke the lock picks." Tamlen nodded, kneeling to untie the armour straps on the guard before he pulled the breastplate clean off. The belt was still buckled to the armour, along with a ring of keys. A quick glance to the guard showed another key in his shirt pocket, which Tamlen threw to Lina. She caught it with a fatigued grin, and returned to the chest.

The moment the key twisted in the lock, the lid flew open. Inside, it was full to the brim with weapons, poultices and armour, as well as every thing else the two elves had been carrying when they were captured. Tamlen's sword was sandwiched between the wall and the chest, at an angle that made Tamlen worry the blade had been bent.

With a low whistle, Lina tugged their armours out of the chest as quickly as she could. Tamlen's drake scale leathers were thrown behind her into his arms, followed by one of his boots and her gloves, and then the rest of his armour. Once she had pulled all of hers from the chest, Lina stepped on top of it and leaned against the wall, before she pushed off of it and tipped the chest over. All of its contents spilled across the floor, and with a huff Lina reached for a elfroot potion and injury kit as she sat back down. She threw Tamlen the kit before uncorking the bottle, and he gratefully caught the pouch of bandages and poultices with a wry smile.

Lina pulled her armour on with renewed strength as the potion restored her energy, and Tamlen busied himself with binding his arm haphazardly in order to be ready as quickly as possible. He had just finished putting his armour on when Lina threw his pack to him, all of his items tucked carefully away inside.

They picked their weapons up from the floor, along with the ring of keys that Tamlen had acquired from the guard, and with a small nod of agreement made their way through the door.

* * *

When they reached the armoury, Lina slammed the door shut behind her and shakily drew the bolt across. They were covered in Mabari blood, Tamlen more so than she, and they had found that what little strength they had had been useless in battle. They had spent more time wincing at wounds and bruises that they weren't previously aware of, and Lina had narrowly avoided an arrow to the head more than once. They were in pain and weakened, and Lina had discovered the hard way that the large scar on her abdomen was not covered in dirt, but was in fact blossoming with a bruise.

Tamlen busied himself with searching the room for anything useful, and almost immediately his eyes settled on the two mannequins in the corner that were displaying the Fort Drakon guard armour. He looked back at Lina with a grin, and watched her face fall as she followed his train of thought.

"Oh no no no. You think these humans would fall for that? The servants in the palace fell for it, yes, but do you really think a fortress full of guards will?" She asked, arms crossed defiantly.

"Do you have any better ideas?" Tamlen countered, copying her stance perfectly but with a much more stubborn air around him.

"We fight our way out."

"No. That is impossible." His voice came out in a low hiss as the sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the corridor beyond, and both elves kept quiet until they had disappeared.

"Why is it impossible? If we try and sneak our way out they'll know, we'll stand out immediately because of the height difference, and someone will notice our empty cells. The guards are not that stupid, they can put two and two together and kill us before we realise they know! At the very least, if we fight our way out we have the advantage of surprise." At her words Tamlen repressed a sigh: she was being stubborn, and he knew it was hard to get her to back down when she was convinced of the right idea.

"Lina, listen to me: we are in a fortress full of heavily armed guards. Neither of us have eaten since before we were arrested, and we're weak. I can barely hold my sword with my arm so tightly bandaged, and you can barely walk from fatigue. We are outnumbered, bruised to the bone and defenceless; we have no other choice." His voice dropped to a whisper when the sound of more guards patrolling hit their ears, and as Lina listened carefully Tamlen marvelled at how no one had noticed the empty cell yet.

Once the guards had passed, Lina threw Tamlen a scowl and motioned to the mannequins behind him.

"Fine, just pass me the sodding armour, and pray it fits me this time." She muttered darkly, but Tamlen was grinning at both her choice of words -though he was grateful she hadn't said any of Oghren's more colourful curses- and the hope that his plan would work. His smile faded as he handed her the helmet, however, when he realised that it would be very difficult to pull it off. Two elves attempting to convince a fortress of human guards that they were both human and recruits was going to take all of their cunning and wit, and was probably as suicidal as Lina's plan would be if they were caught.

Lina was watching him curiously as Fenarel's words from the night in Redcliffe made him panic; there was so much he hadn't said, so much he needed to tell her and yet here they were in a dungeon full of hostiles and still she did not know. He stepped towards her as she was pulling her gauntlets off, making her pause, and tucked her hair behind her ears before he cupped her face gently in his hands.

"Lina, listen I... If we don't-" She cut him off abruptly with a kiss, her gauntlets clattering to the floor as she lifted a hand to the back of his neck to pull him closer. He kissed her hard, putting as much emotion into the kiss as he could to convey what she wouldn't let him say. One hand slowly trailed down her arm to clasp her wrist, but after a minute or so Lina pulled back with a smile.

"If you're going to confess your undying love for me, you can do it in a more romantic setting." She leant up to place a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth before she continued to don the guard armour. Tamlen watched her carefully for a moment, seeing the blush rising up her neck and cheeks, and quickly changed into his guard armour.

Once they had changed -Lina lamented that they were unable to keep their Dalish boots- they left the armoury, Tamlen going first and looking up and down the corridor to ensure no one was out there. He cast her a triumphant grin as she slipped out of the room.

"Don't look so smug, we've yet to actually pass a human." Lina muttered darkly under her breath, her head held high as she led the way down the corridor. She slunk into the shadows when they passed an open door, slipping into the room unnoticed and moving around the edges. Tamlen walked over to the guards, having heard their conversation as he approached; he knew that Lina was planning to pickpocket one, and so distracted them both with a complaint about the quartermaster. Neither guard noticed the nimble elf behind them as Tamlen kept them occupied.

He watched as Lina pulled a slip of paper from the guard's pocket before darting back to the shadows, and so he excused himself from the conversation with a confident grin. Meeting his clanmate outside, he noticed her look of disbelief.

"The password is rabbit." She explained. "The bloody password is _rabbit_."

* * *

"Once we pass through this door here, it is likely that we will be met with hostilities- young man, are you listening to me?" Wynne's voice cut through the air sharply; Oghren was jerked from his drunken stupor and Zevran jumped in his seat in surprise. The mage's words were aimed at him, for the assassin had spent the better part of ten minutes staring at the floor. Duster lay at his feet, and his forlornly rested on his paws as Wynne spoke. Fenarel looked over from his place at the window as Wynne interrupted herself.

The five of them were gathered in the empty sitting room at the back of the Arl's estate, attempting to think of a way to rescue the two wardens. Fenarel had been insisting that his clanmates would be able to make it out on their own, but the human mage was adamant they have a back up plan in case they had not returned by noon. They were brainstorming ideas, ranging from Oghren as a circus performer to Morrigan as a priestess. Fenarel had had to shake his head at some of the ideas, and more than once had turned to keeping a lookout over the courtyard.

"Of course I am listening, dear lady! I was just...eh. We have been at this for hours!" Zevran's voice was as soft as velvet, likely to attempt to make Wynne forgive him and give up for now. Wynne, however, looked more like she was about to give him a swift whack with her staff.

"We need to get the Warden's back. The Landsmeet is days away, we need them here and I need to check those reckless fools over for any injuries." Wynne pinched the bridge of her nose in helplessness, but Fenarel could not help but notice the fond tone to her voice when she spoke about Lina and Tamlen.

Any response Zevran was about to make was quietened when Fenarel stepped up closer to the window in alarm.

"What is it, young man?" Wynne asked urgently from across the room. Without looking her way Fenarel peered through the glass.

"Forgive me, I am not trained in the human ways, but I'm assuming that it's not common for the city guard to visit a noble's estate?" Wynne jumped up and made her way over to Fenarel as he spoke, her head shaking.

She looked out to the path approaching the estate: her eyes instantly locked on to the two guards making their way up the path to the estate. They were walking casually, however, and Wynne could swear she recognised the distinctive curved sword on the taller guard's back.

"Well! Would you look at that!" Fenarel spoke as the two guards approached the well in the centre of the courtyard. Both were clearly laughing and, as they pulled off their helmets and dropped them down into the well, Wynne gave a huge sigh of relief.

"I wonder how they got out of Fort Drakon. I dread to see their injuries." Wynne moved to one of the chairs with a small chuckle, relieved that there would be no dangerous trek into the famous fort. Fenarel smiled at their quick thinking when he noticed they had worn the guard armour over their normal armour: it had hidden well the leaner frames that marked them as elves almost as clearly as their ears.

When the sounds of their laughter lifted in through the window, Duster cocked his head to the side once before bolting out of the room.

"Well my stout little friend, it seems we must wait until the blight ends before we can start our travelling circus." Zevran lead the dwarf out the room with an arm slung around his shoulder.

"Who you calling stout, you nug humping-" Oghren's voice echoed down the hall, but Wynne was glad for the opportunity to drown out his colourful insults. With a small smile to the final inhabitant of the room, she stood up from her chair and grabbed her staff.

"Young man, could you kindly inform the Arl and the Queen that the two Wardens are back?" Her tone was polite, but Fenarel gave her a look of absolute refusal. She sighed. "Very well, I will let them know. Could you go and drag those two inside and put them somewhere they can't escape in order for me to heal them?" At this Fenarel gave a small bow.

"That I can do, hahren."

Fenarel left quickly, leaving Wynne alone in the room. She enjoyed the silence for a few moments, thankful that the emergency had passed. She knew the story of how the Wardens escaped would be one the entire party of companions would want to hear, including herself, but she also craved the silence before everything would start back up again. Wynne smiled as she went to leave the room, before freezing on the spot.

The Queen had requested to see Lina before the landsmeet, when she returned from the fort. Wynne, knowing Lina's temper and having witnessed the Queen's betrayal in Howe's estate, knew that the meeting between the two would be far from friendly.


	32. A Change of Plans

A/N: I don't think I'll ever do this chapter well, but hey, three years later, I have tried to! Rewritten.

* * *

"How did it go with Anora?" Tamlen's question was hesitant: his voice was careful and falsely cheery. He was in the dining hall of Eamon's estate with Lina and Fenarel, with the former eating her supper after she had missed dinner to speak with the Queen. The Dalish elf was clearly irritated after their talk and, if the way she was ruthlessly spearing the meat in her stew was any indication, she had been forced into an agreement she did not want to make.

Fenarel was looking highly amused at his clanmate's annoyance, though Tamlen was more cautious and feeling sincerely sorry for the lamb stew. At his question Lina gave him a dark look, whistling low through her teeth.

"The nerve, the audacity, of that woman! She has the manipulative skills of a damn demon." She hissed the last part of her sentence under her breath, and both elves had to lean in to hear her properly. Fenarel smiled.

"Badly, then?"

"Understatement of the age. I walked in there with a plan of action and left with a plan completely different to the one I started with." Lina grumbled, stabbing at her stew. Tamlen gave the hand that was resting on the table a gentle squeeze, but rather than acknowledge it she suddenly looked deep in thought, her jaw moving slowly. "Hm. I wonder..."

"What did Anora say?" She shook her head absentmindedly, still in thought, before she fixed her gaze back on Tamlen.

"Well as I said, the damn woman was manipulative-"

"She's the Queen, I would hope she has some skills in that department-" Fenarel interrupted Lina with a smirk, and Tamlen could almost feel the impact of Lina's boot against Fenarel's shin.

"Enough. I was angry enough at the woman for the apparent double crossing in the estate, so when I walked in there expecting equal animosity I was confused at how nice she was acting. I don't think I've ever been called an idiot in so charming a way before. She made _me_ feel guilty for _her_ betrayal!" Lina tutted as she reached for the bread roll, throwing manners to the wind and tearing it in two.

"Anyway, cutting to the point. She skirted around actually saying it herself, but she asked for my support in the Landsmeet."

"Tell me you said no." Tamlen scoffed, stealing a piece of bread and popping it into his mouth. He nearly spat it back out at her following words.

"Oh no, I told her I'd support her whole heartedly."

"Why? I thought we were supporting Alistair?" Tamlen asked hotly. Lina held her hand up to keep both him and Fenarel quiet, and they watched for a moment as she listened for the sounds of activity outside the empty dining hall. When her sharper elven hearing picked up nothing, she explained.

"I have no intention of following through. I can act just as well as she can: I pretended to be ignorant of what ruling was really about, and then followed up with an exaggerated 'oh of course, I see now that you are much more experienced and qualified to rule Ferelden than Alistair'." Tamlen watched her, unable to think of any reasons as to why Lina would pretend to support the queen.

"But why lie about who you are supporting? It's not like you to do something like this." Fenarel nodded in agreement with him, but Lina's reasons were strong.

"Put it this way: there's no way I can reasonably win a majority without the Queen's support. You'd have to be an idiot to not realise that she was well loved, that's the whole reason we had to go and save her. It will make Loghain think twice -and hopefully back down- when he realises his own daughter is against him. Combine that with the evidence we have that Howe was torturing nobles and Alfstanna's confirmation that he prevented a Templar from doing his duties, and we have a very strong case. She has to pledge her support to me so I can get Loghain to back down, and then I pledge my support to my chosen candidate for the throne. It's an underhanded move, but this is politics and I'm desperate."

"Are you sure Anora hasn't rubbed off on you? That's a very human tactic." Tamlen teased. He had to admit, however, that it was a good plan. "It secures her support, but I can't help but feel that this Landsmeet has so many ways that it can go wrong. Just hope Anora does not realise what you plan." Tamlen reached for her hand again and held it in both of his own: he was feeling uneasy about the Landsmeet already. He had seen Loghain's type before, and knew that the man would not back down without a fight.

"Well, it's the day after tomorrow, as long as I act nice enough for long enough then she shouldn't get too suspicious. And we'll be out most of the day tomorrow too. She said that there's been some unrest in the alienage that I'd like to go check out. The curfew has been set now so the gates are locked, but I think it's worth going in the moment they open in the morning."

"Do you mind if I accompany you? I wish to see how our kin live in the cities, and the stories I have heard from Pol regarding this alienage are enough to shock even Marethari." Fenarel spoke up, his expression one of curiosity and disdain.

"Not at all. Though I am warning you, bring your best gear. I've yet to visit somewhere where I don't have to fight my way out." Lina warned him, but from the look on his face she could tell he was doubting how dangerous it could be despite his nod. Fenarel then bid them goodbye, and Lina half wondered if he was going to sneak out to the Alienage gates to try to scout out any information he could get.

She smiled fondly, hoping he wouldn't end up in the alienage itself with no way to get out, and tidied up her plates before carrying them into the kitchen. When she returned Tamlen was still waiting for her, and together they left the brightly lit dining room and walked the corridors of the estate. It was eerily quiet, being late enough that everyone had retired to their rooms, but not so late that the estate was asleep. Candlelight shone through the cracks under doors, lighting the way towards their own separate rooms.

"Hey, where were you this afternoon?" Lina's voice broke the silence, her voice so low it was almost a whisper. Her question was sudden and, having shown no other indication that she had noticed his disappearance before, it almost threw Tamlen off. He stuttered for a moment before regaining his composure, throwing her a smile and pulling her closer with an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

"You were so engrossed in your conversation with Leliana, I'm surprised you noticed I had left." He wasn't lying: it really hadn't taken much to slip away. She hummed in response, before suddenly turning in his arm until she faced him. Her face was centimetres from his own, her lips so close that he could almost feel them brushing against his own when she next spoke.

"You didn't answer my question, Tamlen, and now I'm suspicious." Her lips curved into a smile, believing she'd trapped him, and lacking an answer he closed the distance and kissed her. She froze momentarily, annoyed at still not receiving an answer, and then responded with fervour when his lips moved against her own. Her arms wound around his neck as he pulled her flush against him, his arms wrapped tight around her waist. Lina gave a small gasp at the closeness.

With a small kiss to the corner of her mouth he pulled away, still holding her closely with his hands clasped at the small of her back.

"If you have to know, I was with Zathrian." Lina frowned; the moment was broken, and now she was more confused than suspicious.

"Zathrian? What is he doing here in Denerim?"

"He wasn't very forthcoming. His clan is camped a days journey from Denerim and I think he was trading for medical supplies to help the last few members of his clan, as well as to stock up. I also got the sense, however, that he wanted to keep an eye on our progress."

"That man is wrapped up in too much secrecy. I guess it was too much to hope that he would give up his position to Lanaya. I'm curious as to why he wouldn't let me know he was here, however." Her suspicions abated, Lina ducked her head against Tamlen's chest to hide a yawn. He smiled before shaking her gently to get her to start walking again.

"Come on, we haven't slept since before we were captured, it's time we get to our rooms."

* * *

"Well, today's really our lucky day. What have we done to deserve a visit from the Dalish?" The sarcasm was dripping from the redhead's words, and were directed at Lina as she led the group into the alienage. Lina frowned.

"You know I'm Dalish?" Her words received a disbelieving snort in reply.

"We know a lot more about the Dalish than you would think. You're still elves, but you don't live under the thumb of humans. It's something we can admire, even if we are intimidated."

"It's not as idyllic as you might think." Lina responded calmly. "It's a hard life to adjust to if you're not born Dalish. A life on the move, never saying in place for too long in case the humans come chasing, it's hard."

"Still, I'm guessing it's better than living here. Hey, one of the runaways from here fled to the Dalish: I don't suppose you would know if he found them? His name was Pol." She looked doubtful even as she asked the question, and she crossed her arms haughtily in front of her. Lina raised am eyebrow: she had known that the city elves viewed the Dalish as proud and arrogant, but she had not expected such outright hostility. She copied the elf's stance with a smirk.

"He did. He found my clan just over a year ago: they welcomed him and taught him the old ways as quickly as possible. He is an accomplished hunter now, Fenarel here had a hand in his training along with another of my clan." Lina's smirk widened into a grin when the hostility slipped from the redhead's face, and she simply stared at her.

"Pol. Skinny Pol. You actually welcomed him into the clan rather than turn him away?"

"We were hardly going to lock him away in an aravel for the rest of his life. What on Thedas do you hear about us? You are our kin, so when you join a clan you are taught in the old ways and in our basic survival skills, and there will always be a place for you somewhere in the clan. We don't slaughter you on sight, you know. Unless you're human." Lina kept her eyes on the redhead, and with a sigh she uncrossed her arms and backed down.

"You're an alright sort, you know? Sometimes I think the stories we hear about the Dalish are just invented by the humans to prevent us from joining you out there."

"That's most likely the truth." Lina answered with a nod, and turned her gaze from the elf before her to look at the two long queues near a wreck of a building. "I'm guessing that is the reason I was told to investigate. What's going on here?"

"These people-" The elf motioned to the mages at the front of the lines that Lina hadn't noticed, "came into the Alienage claiming that there was a sickness in here and that they alone had the cure for it. But then they changed their story; apparently their spells can only prevent it, so those who are sick already need to go into quarantine. Funny thing though, all of the elves who go in, don't come back out."

"And I'm going to take a shot in the dark and guess the chantry doesn't know magic is being used here, if the lack of Templars is anything to go by.

"I'm pretty sure they don't, actually, but it's not like I can do anything about it." The elf gave a sigh. "It's even worse, because it's not like the elves they quarantine are actually sick, most are perfectly healthy."

"Well, you might not be able to do anything about it, but we can." Lina looked behind her to her companions; Tamlen and Fenarel, although they had been listening, were examining the alienage closely with a look of curiosity on their faces. Wynne looked as concerned as Lina felt, and she was eyeing up the mages thoughtfully.

"You're serious, aren't you? They won't just let you in." The redhead warned with narrowed eyes. Lina shrugged.

"I had no intention of asking." With that said, Lina gave her a grin before turning to Fenarel, Tamlen and Wynne.

"Fenarel, I'd like you to stand afar with Wynne, keep her protected if it gets hostile and use your arrows as cover. Tamlen, come with me." They nodded in agreement, and Wynne led Fenarel to one of the nearby houses where they could stand in a defensible position.

Lina and Tamlen made their way slowly over to the mages, bustling through the queue until they stood before the leader. She coughed dramatically and seemingly uncontrollably into her hands, loud enough for the mage to turn to her in alarm.

"I need to get inside..." Her voice was remarkably weak, and she was clutching at her bruised stomach desperately. Tamlen noted she was doing a good job of looking as though she were about to vomit all over the mage.

"Ergh, open the door! We got a sick one here! You need to come with me into quarantine." The mage lifted his arm to grab at her shoulder. As he did so, Lina pulled her carving knife from her belt and rammed it up between his ribs, feeling it slide across bone and tissue. She twisted it sharply with a grimace and then stepped to the side in time to see an arrow embed itself neatly next to her knife. The mage gave a groan of pain and fell to the floor, dead. The two behind him looked up in horror at the sound and sprung into action.

Tamlen unsheathed his sword and dodged to the side as a deadly spike of ice was sent their way, and Lina dropped to the floor to avoid it. She landed on the dead mage with a groan of disgust, but pulled her knife from his body and blindly threw it at the mage casting the spell.

She jumped to her feet and unsheathed her Dar'Misu, moving away from the mage closest to her that was locked in combat with Tamlen. Lina went straight for the one who had thrown the ice spell, thankful to see that he was now distracted by Fenarel's arrows cutting through the air to meet him. Raising her Dar'Misu she swiped at him, only to find herself stumbling backwards when she was blocked by the mage's staff. Lina cursed and took a low swing instead, feeling the recoil vibrate through her again when she was blocked once more. The mage gave a smirk at her failing efforts before he held his staff before him in what looked like preparation for a particularly vicious wintry spell.

Lina looked down to her sword knowing that, short of tackling the mage, she had no idea how to distract him in time to stop the spell. She could hear his staff crackling with ice, and as she examined him she noticed two of Fenarel's arrows caught in his shoulder pads. With a grimace and an inward wince she dropped her Dar'Misu and pulled them from his armour, pushing them arrowhead first towards his eyes. Only one made contact, but it sunk deep into his eyeball and the guttural scream of pain he gave also distracted the other mage. His first instinct was to pull the arrow out, but the moment his fingers touched the wood he gave another cry of pain and promptly passed out. Lina swiftly picked up her dagger and slit his throat, though she had to refrain from gagging at the sight of the arrow in his eye.

She turned in time to see Tamlen and Fenarel had finished fighting the final mage and were advancing on two of the alienage elves who had tried to fight against them. One, who had seen Lina force the arrow into the mage's eye, immediately held his hands up in surrender and backed away. The other was making a genuine but fruitless attempt to fight Tamlen, and after three swings of a pocket dagger he left himself open to Tamlen's shield smacking him hard in the face. There was an awful crunching sound and the elf staggered backwards as Tamlen lowered his sword.

"Get out of here." The elf did not hesitate, turning swiftly on his heel and scurrying off with his hand pressed to his bleeding nose. Lina looked at Tamlen as he stepped back.

"You like doing that, don't you?"

"It's a quick and easy way to throw them off." Tamlen answered with a shrug. Lina nodded and made her way back to the mage she'd just killed, searching amongst the skirts of his robes for her carving knife. She found it tangled at roughly knee height, but it had failed to do any damage.

When she made her way back to her companions, Fenarel was stood with a small grin of disbelief.

"Creators, you weren't kidding about the hostilities!"

* * *

Lina studied the evidence before her, pushing back a wave of nausea when her eyes roamed over the slavers documents. She was sat in her bed in Eamon's estate, her legs tangled in the sheets with her hair a mess from an endless night of no sleep. Every time she thought of the Landsmeet, she had an urge to throw up from fear and nervousness. Her stomach was churning as she considered the evidence: she knew it was strong enough to win the debate, but that did not make her feel any better.

It wasn't helping her much, either, that the Landsmeet was not due to start until four in the afternoon. According to Eamon, it was to give the arriving nobles a chance to settle and gossip amongst themselves in the hall.

Despite her mood, she had been able to get out of bed that morning, if only to take the slavers documents from the table next to her bed in order to look through them again to double check they were genuine. However in her distress they had become spread across the sheets and were now mixed up. Lina gave herself a mental reminder to sort them out before the Landsmeet.

Fiddling absentmindedly with the ties to her tunic, she used her other hand to scoop the papers up into one messy pile and placed them back on the table with a huff. She was about to lay back down in her bed and attempt to sleep when there was a sharp, loud knock on the door.

Lina hadn't even shouted a 'come in' when the handle was turned and in walked a very pale, but very cheerful looking, Tamlen. He thankfully closed the door behind him and walked towards her, stopping at the edge of her bed.

"Any particular reason you're still in bed?" His eyes were narrowed playfully at her, but his voice was cheerful and Lina gave a groan in reply and pulled her knees to her chest. Only then did she notice his clothes. Tamlen was out of his armour, something that only ever happened when he was asleep, and the clothes he was wearing now were hardly suitable to sleep in.

Her eyes took in the tunic, a soft cream in colour that brought out the tan of his skin and the blond in his hair. The arms of it were slightly baggy and gave him an airy look, one that was topped off with a faint gold lining around the edges of the tunic and a thin gold belt. Lina made no attempt to avert her gaze as she took in the dark riding pants and leather boots.

"You're looking particularly handsome today. Going somewhere?" Lina asked with a raised eyebrow. His clothes didn't have a single crease in them, and Lina had to resist the urge to reach forward, grab him, and kiss him until they were messy.

"Eamon wants us to look 'presentable' for the Landsmeet. You, however, are lucky: you are allowed to wear your armour since it's likely Loghain will be wearing his, and if it turns into one on one combat then you'll need it. But I came here to talk to you." Tamlen told her with a smile. He was still slightly pale, and Lina noticed his tell-tale signs of nervousness. Namely, his looking around the room frequently. His eyes landed on the drapes and he frowned.

"Just because we're Grey Warden's doesn't mean you have to live in the darkness." He flashed her a smile before he pulled the drapes apart, allowing sunlight to flood into the room. He reached up to put the window on the latch before turning back to face Lina.

Her vision suddenly felt gritty in the light, and with a wince she pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes and rubbed them. She felt a weight pull down on the bed just behind her, and she removed her hands to look. Tamlen had sat on the edge of the bed behind her, and she shuffled backwards to be closer to him.

"What time is it?"

"Ten of the morning watch. You've slept later than usual this morning." His response was honest, and Lina gave another groan.

"It's six hours until the Landsmeet and I'm tired, and I've hardly slept." She dragged her hand across her face with a muffled yawn, and felt Tamlen move around until he was directly behind her, with his legs on either side of her. She smiled and leaned back into his chest.

"Really? I slept a good few hours, and I was on a concrete slab covered with sheets." Tamlen's tone of annoyance was convincing enough to make Lina turn and face him in confusion, her eyes narrowed in alarm.

"You've been sleeping on a _concrete slab_?" Tamlen grinned in response.

"Well, no. But I swear, a bedroll on the hard floor would have been more suitable. The mattress may have been stuffed with rocks, for all the comfort it had." He chuckled lightly when she smacked his leg instead of replying, and wrapped his arms around her waist. With his hands clasped over her stomach he pulled her closer to him, and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"You know, men are not supposed to enter a lady's bedroom. Especially not this early in the morning." Lina teased with a smile.

"We are elves, and I've shared a tent with you for years. We're exempted from the rules of propriety." Tamlen's retort was quietly murmured into her ear, followed by a gentle kiss to her earlobe. Lina twisted in his arms in order to face him better, and he captured her lips with his own the moment he was able. He kissed her slowly, his lips moving softly against her own and his hand trailing to the back of her neck to keep her close. Lina attempted to deepen the kiss, but Tamlen stopped her with his hand moving around to cradle her cheek.

"I love you." Whichever one of them had said it first, they would never recall, and Lina caught Tamlen's lips once more with the full knowledge that it had never required saying. Though this time, as light tears filled her eyes, she didn't care that the kiss was slow. Tamlen was clutching her to him, and they sat in a warm silence for a few moments longer before Lina pulled back and spoke up again.

"You said you came here to talk to me." Lina started, slightly breathless with a flush across her cheeks. Tamlen's own flushed cheeks paled when she spoke. "Why?"

Tamlen held her tightly as he let out a shaky breath; the colour in his cheeks had faded but his resolve was as strong as ever. Lina had returned to how she had been sat before, with her back to his chest, though her fingers were tracing light patterns over his knuckles. Tamlen leant in, his mouth inches away from her ear and, with his voice barely above a soft whisper, he spoke.

"Will you bond with me?"


	33. The Landsmeet

Lina had enough sense in her to not freeze outright in Tamlen's arms. All of her thoughts, however, skidded to a halt, and Lina could feel her stomach doing instant somersaults.

With that one small question, everything slipped into place. Zathrian's presence in Denerim; a keeper was needed to perform the bonding ceremony, and magic was needed to perform the actual bonding itself. Tamlen's attire; he was hardly going to marry her in his armour. And finally, the reason he had been jittery and pale for the past few days became clear: he was bound to be nervous, a Dalish did not enter a bond lightly.

Lina shifted her position on the bed, turning around fully so that she faced Tamlen. She had dreamt of this scenario for years, and yet now that she was finally being asked she found herself ridiculously tongue tied. Looking down into his eyes, she searched them for any signs of doubt or deceit. She found neither, only a burning hope in his eyes that was slowly being diminished with fear with every second she took to answer.

His gaze was desperately worried and terifiied, with an honesty behind it that was so powerful she was shaken. The small smile on her face blossomed into a full and happy grin, and the fear in Tamlen's eyes disappeared to be replaced with uncertain joy. Lina leant forwards and took his face in her hands, then placed a firm kiss to his lips.

"Yes. A thousand times yes." Lina felt him smile beneath her lips, and felt the breath of relief that her answer brought. With her answer the one he had been hoping for he pulled her to him, the momentum enough to send him back against the headboard. They kissed clumsily, the rare grin on his face and her laughter too uncontrollable to allow the kiss to be heated. Their noses bumped as though they'd never kissed before, although when Lina pulled back with a smile she felt lightheaded from happiness.

"When?" Her question was whispered into the space between them as her fingers fiddled with the ties on his tunic, hyper aware of the weight on his hands on her waist. Tamlen's smile turned into a hesitant grin, though his eyes no longer betrayed any fear of a further rejection.

"Today."

* * *

Duster has never really been a fan of Tamlen. The tall blond elf has never been particularly friendly to him either, and the only time Tamlen is _bearable_ is when he is in the company of _his_ mistress. The blond one just doesn't understand that it's not acceptable to cause his mistress so much pain and then just continue on like nothing has happened. Duster does not know the whole story, but he does not understand why his mistress bothers with him.

No, Duster does not like Tamlen. The elf smells like the forest around them, leafy and green with a scent of firewood, and Duster distrusts him because with a base smell like that, Tamlen would easily be able to hide from Duster if he wished. And sometimes, on the days where his mistress used to stare forlornly over the camp at the elf, that scent would be suspiciously absent from his mistress.

But he also smells the blond elf on his mistress on the days where she is incredibly happy, with her smile radiating like sun beams, and when she is like this all Duster can smell is firewood and the forest. These days are what Duster remembers when he feels the urge to drag the blond elf away from his mistress by the scruff of his neck, because he knows if he did this _his_ elf would be unhappy and disappointed. He restrains himself.

Barely.

But when they leave with the mage who smells of soap suds and an unearthly world and the bard who slips him meat from the stew, he wants to flee from the room he's been confined to and follow. The city smells _wrong_, as though there is deceit around every corner, and the elf with the funny accent smells of stale perfume and laundry water. When four return later without Tamlen and his mistress, Duster wants to know all the details. He wishes to save his mistress as she once saved him.

He gets the details when the soapy mage takes him out for a bath. She whispers the details over his soap covered head to the dark haired woman -and she _poisoned_ him once- who strangely has no scent at all. And it is the regal woman, the recently arrived one who smells of fresh linen and perfume, who is to blame for the disappearance of his elf. The soapy mage describes the pen where his mistress and her elf are being held, and for the first and only time Duster realises he wants the return of the blond elf too.

He's laying in the parlour at the assassin's feet when the regal woman enters to speak with the warden who smells of cheese and dirty socks. There is an air of deceit to her, and Duster only takes his eyes off her to distractedly notice that the soapy mage is knitting something with her staff that is suspiciously mabari shaped. His eyes follow her as she fights with the warden prince, and the fool of a woman tries to pet him with softened eyes when she walks past and notices him at the feet of the assassin.

He bites her, hard. He doesn't draw blood, but Duster knows it will leave a bruise on her pretty little hand. The woman pulls back with a yelp, and Duster growls menacingly to warn her to never come near him. She leaves, and the assassin quietly laughs and passes him some treats.

When his mistress returns, she reeks of metal and blood, of iron and exhaustion and -_surprise_- the blond elf. As his mistress relays the tale of their escape, Duster grudgingly allows the blond elf to scratch his ears.

He's standing vigil outside his mistresses door one morning when the blond elf arrives. He looks different, almost presentable, and although the sun is not yet up Duster knows that he has been awake for hours. Anxiety radiates from him in waves, enough to make even Duster anxious. To distract himself he follows the elf in his pacing back and forth in front of the door, but rather than his usual reaction of annoyance, Duster is perplexed to receive a gentle pat to the head. The elf leaves and then comes back half an hour later, and he repeats this strange pattern of pacing several times.

Duster is matching his paces in annoyance when the elf finally shakes his head, dusts himself off, and steps around Duster into his mistress' room. Duster's attempt to follow him inside is met the door being shut in his face, and the mabari growls before he lays down and listens to the conversation inside.

They both emerge an hour later, and his mistress looks positively glowing with joy. When he nuzzles his nose into her shoulder, she strokes his head affectionately, talking rapidly about a bonding ceremony and magic. He is curious, but his elf is so delighted and she is whisked away before he can inquire.

By the time he drags the redheaded bard to the room, sleepy and half alert, they are gone.

* * *

"_Late_! How did we end up _late_ to the _Landsmeet_!" Lina's panicked yell drifted over the heads of the crowd in the Denerim Marketplace as she and Tamlen rushed through it. Lina was in the lead, pushing snooty minor nobles out of her way in her haste to reach the gates to the back alleys.

Tamlen didn't answer her, though she could feel his amusement in the further corner of her mind. The sensation was strange, but not unpleasant, and she knew that in time she could learn to ignore his emotions echoing in her own mind. At the moment however, the new bond was making her smile inappropriately as she shoved an arguing noble aside and nearly slammed herself against the gate. She rattled it with a groan.

"The _one_ gate to the back alleys and _it's bloody locked_!" Lina muttered darkly under her breath, and pulled her lock picking set from pouch on her belt and set to work. Tamlen leaned against the wall and caught his breath; he could feel her spike of annoyance in the back of his mind, but he could not stop himself from grinning when her lock picking attempt made the gold of her new ring glint in the sunlight.

With a cry of success Lina popped the lock off and dragged the chain from the door, and she quickly ushered Tamlen through before slamming the gate shut behind her. She took lead again and ran ahead through the small alleyway. Her cheeks were going pink from the sudden run, and the urgency of their running meant that no one tried to stop them as Lina navigated the alleys and brought them bursting out into the palace gardens from the gate on the other end five minutes later.

They gasped for breath when the gate clanged shut behind them, and Lina's sudden deep breathing brought on a hacking coughing fit that prevented her from speaking as they half-ran through the gardens, towards the palace's main gate.

If Lina had hoped that their tardiness would go unnoticed, she was sorely disappointed. Waiting at the entrance to the palace, with an unimpressed look on her face, stood Leliana. Of all her companions she was closest to Leliana, and so Lina was shocked when Leliana stepped towards her with an angry frown on her face.

"You two! I was _dragged_ from my bed this morning by your hound, only to find your rooms empty with no indication of where you were, and then you turn up late to the Landsmeet! We thought you had fled the city! You didn't even leave a note telling us where you were!" Leliana's voice was an octave higher than Lina had ever heard it before, merely a notch below being shrill, and her accent was very thick.

"I'm sorry! We lost track of the time, and before we knew it we were racing back here in a panicked daze and picking up the evidence and-" Lina broke off to cough once more. "Has the Landsmeet already begun?"

"Yes! Wynne is inside now with Alistair, and Loghain has already started his half of the debate. You need to hurry, you don't want them casting a vote without your evidence there to sway them." Leliana ushered them inside the palace, giving a nod to the guards as they passed.

"Do be careful in the foyer, we had a mishap twenty minutes ago with Ser Cauthrien and we haven't been able to move the body... Her armour is too heavy and they're against stripping her, so she's just been laying there." Leliana lead them around the bodies carefully, and Lina could tell that the chantry sister inside Leliana was praying silently for their souls.

"What was she here for?" Lina asked quietly, eyeing the dead body warily.

"She was looking to arrest you two, but found that the head of the bastard prince was a much better prize. She didn't last long." Leliana's voice was even quieter as voices were heard from inside the chamber. Lina could recognise one that was clearly Loghain's.

"Is it a full chamber?" Lina put her hand to the door as she asked, ready to push it open and enter once her question was answered.

"Yes, and Alfstanna and Sighard are also here, ready to support Alistair's claim- what is _that_?" Leliana's gaze focused on the thin gold band on Lina's finger, and a look of comprehension crossed her face. Rather than answer her, however, Lina gave her a grin and then pushed open the chamber doors. With a weak smile to Tamlen she entered the chamber just as Loghain started to raise his voice.

The nobles parted before her, staring incredulously at the Grey Warden, and Lina felt her stomach flip at the sheer amount of people in the room. Tamlen looked up to the balconies around the room and noticed Alistair staring in their direction with utter relief. Loghain, on the other hand, allowed a brief flash of annoyance to cross over his face at Lina's appearance.

He had been pacing the far end of the chamber, giving a detailed account of how idiotic and mad it would be to allow the Chevaliers into Ferelden. Whilst Lin agreed that he had a point, the Orlesian's were not the main threat.

"And what about you, elf? You have no ties to Ferelden, how much did the Orlesian's pay you? Tell me what the price of honour is now." Loghain's direct question almost threw Lina off as she stopped five feet away from the spitting man, and her first instinct was to bring up Ostagar. However she remembered Eamon's words from the previous day: do not make a statement that you cannot back up with proof. With a small frown to herself, she tried to get her first point across.

"Ferelden is in the middle of a blight Loghain: that is the threat here, not Orlais! Put your irrational fear of Orlais to the side and accept their help when we need it most!" Lina was proud of herself for not wavering at all, and her voice betrayed none of the fear she felt. In support of her words, Alfstanna stepped to the edge of her balcony.

"There are more than enough refugees in my bannorn now to make _that_ abundantly clear." The Bann was gripping the edge of the balcony tightly, and Arl Wulff copied her stance as he stepped forward.

"The south is gone, Loghain, lost to the darkspawn. Will you let the darkspawn take Ferelden out of fear for Orlais?" Wulff's voice was downcast and resigned, and Lina felt pity for the man who most likely had to watch his arling burn. Lina took another step towards Loghain, and the metal heel of her boot tapping the stone floor brought Loghain's attention back to her.

"I concede that the darkspawn are a problem, but this is not a true blight!" Loghain was getting desperate. "We need to stand united as a nation, not spend our days bickering in-"

"If we are to stand united, then why did you sell Ferelden citizens into slavery - I have documents here signed with your personal seal- and allow Howe to torture innocents in his dungeon?" She forced herself to remain calm: the slavery operation they had uncovered still made her blood boil in anger, and she pulled the documents from her satchel and held them before her. Before she could continue, Sighard spoke up.

"The warden speaks the truth! Loghain knew of Howe's intention to take my son under the cover of night to ensure support of Loghain, and he did nothing to stop Howe! The things done to my son, they are beyond the skill of most healers!" Lina tried to keep a triumphant smirk off her face; it had been a good idea to visit the inn in the marketplace, and she wondered if she would be doing as well without the support of the nobles.

"Whatever Howe did, it was done on his own without my support. But you should know this Warden, for you were the one who snuck into his home and murdered him! I may have made many mistakes, but I have not been so atrocious as to kill a man in his own home!" Loghain's eyes were wild, reflecting the desperation of a cornered, wounded animal. As a hunter, Lina knew the look well, and a feeling of great unease started to churn her stomach.

"At least I killed the man myself, Loghain. But you lie; rather than face him yourself you sent a blood mage, Jowan, to poison the Arl of Redcliffe." They made an interesting sight: Loghain, red faced and clad in full metal armour and practically spitting in his desperation to prove himself right, and Lina, trying to maintain a calm face and speaking more eloquently than would be expected for an elf raised in the forests.

"If I were to send a man to poison Eamon, I would not send an untrustworthy apostate to do it!" Loghain kept his gaze on her, never wavering even when Alfstanna again spoke up, her voice strong and full of accusation.

"Indeed? My brother tells a very _different_ tale to yours, Loghain. He tells of how you snatched a proven blood mage from the Chantry's justice and tasked him to poison Eamon. He tells of how all the Templars involved were locked up and deprived of lyrium to keep them from telling the truth. Coincidence?" Alfstanna held her head high as she levied the accusation, and her green eyes glinted with satisfaction when the Revered Mother of Denerim clucked her tongue at Loghain.

"Interference in a Templar's sacred duties is a crime, Teyrn Loghain. Do not expect the Chantry to overlook this!" An angry Loghain held up a hand to cut the Mother off, and he stepped closer to Lina. They were less than a metre apart.

"I will answer for what I have done in time, however I would like to know what you have done with my daughter. This warden kidnapped her from Howe's estate and has kept her hostage ever since."

"We are discussing _your_ crimes here, not mine-"

"I believe _I_ can speak for myself." This time it was Lina who was cut off by the entrance of Anora, and Lina took a deep breath that was a mix of relief and worry. Her fears were abated, however, when Anora kept to her word and spoke for Lina. Loghain's face fell completely as the entire room kept their eyes on their Queen, trusting her far more than Loghain or Lina. The bitter feeling of betrayal burned in Loghain's eyes, and Lina had to pity him.

When Anora had finished her speech the nobles gathered on the left and right balconies. They discussed their choices loudly enough to be heard but not loud enough to distinguish any words, and Lina watched them in doubt.

After five minutes of debate, one noble left the right side balcony and crossed to the left, handing Alfstanna a note. A moment later, Alfstanna stepped to the end of her balcony and leant against it with a small smile.

"All Arls and Banns present, with the exception of Bann Ceorlic, stand with the Grey Wardens. The blight is here, and we need the Grey Wardens."

With those words, Lina felt as though she couldn't breathe. Only one noble had sided against her: she had won the debate. As she turned to face the balcony there was an almost inhuman growl of fury behind her, and she turned back to see Loghain almost shaking with anger.

"Traitors, the lot of you! Who of you stood forward to protect this country when the Chevaliers were stealing your land and raping your wives?" The man was livid, and his face was red and blotchy from the sheer storm of fury he had worked himself up into. He motioned to his soldiers around the room, and Lina knew that Eamon was likely up on the balcony doing the same. She felt the chord of unease in her stomach snap and fear flooded through her, powerful enough to make Tamlen nervous when it intruded into his own mind. If a fight broke out, she would have to take part: there was no way they could flee the room quickly enough.

"Stop! The Landsmeet has voted against you Loghain, _step down_." Lina's shout was enough to give Loghain pause. He waved his soldiers off and regarded her curiously for several moments, after which he nodded to himself.

"Then I challenge you, Warden, to a duel. Traditional, a test of arms in single combat until one of us yields. The Landsmeet shall then abide by the outcome." He seemed confident that he would win, and it seemed very likely that he would: he was heavily armoured and was a well known warrior, and Lina was a rogue with only her Dalish leathers and not even half of his experience in the field.

She gave a confident nod nonetheless.

"I will face you, then Loghain." She turned on her heel to face the crowd behind her, searching for Leliana. She was stood a little ways behind Tamlen, and her face was one of worry. Without words Lina held her hands up by way of explanation, and with a solemn nod Leliana pulled her leather gauntlets off and passed them to Tamlen. He passed them to Lina with a frown.

"This is insane."

"Well, it's this or be thrown in Fort Drakon again for refusing to fight, and I'm really not eager to go back there." Lina muttered under her breath to him. He shook his head with a worried sigh, and Lina tied the gauntlets as tightly as possible before turning back to face Loghain. The crowd stepped back to give them some room, and both Loghain and Lina unsheathed their weapons.

They circled each other, looking for weak spots, and Loghain took the first strike with a goal of Lina's neck. She blocked it with her Dar'Missan, the sound of steel scraping steel echoing around the chamber as Loghain's sword followed the curve of her own. She went to strike at his mid section with her Dar'Misu, but stumbled backwards instead when it was blocked by the Teyrn's heavy shield. Lina felt the vibrations of the recoil through her entire arm, and had to give it a quick shake to be rid of the unpleasant sensation before she swung it back around to swipe at Loghain. It was blocked once more by his shield, although her Dar'Missan followed through on his unsuspecting right side and left a large dent in his armour.

The duel went on in such a way for many minutes, each of them swinging and blocking defensively, although Lina had a thin slice on her arm where she had only just managed to jump away from Loghain's sword. He swung his long sword towards her head with less effort than she would have expected, and Lina realised too late that it was only a distraction. With her stomach left exposed Loghain seized the chance, and he gave her a solid hit in the abdomen with the bottom of his shield. The wind was knocked out of her and she keeled forwards, and Loghain smashed into her side with his shield and knocked her down to the floor. She rolled once she connected with the stone, but her planned jump to her feet was halted at the cool steel pressed against the side of her neck.

The nobles gasped collectively around the room, and Lina felt a spike of pure terror in the back of her mind that made her own heart race faster. She blocked it out, refusing to look in Tamlen's direction, and locked eyes with Loghain.

"Yield, Warden." He pressed his sword harder against her neck, but Lina tore her eyes away from his and searched his armour frantically. She gave him an exhausted grin.

"Never." The momentary surprise at her answer gave Lina the seconds she needed to pull her carving knife from her belt and shove it as hard as she could into the small gap between the top of Loghain's boots and the start of his greaves. It hit his kneecap hard enough to jolt her arm, but she twisted it at the same moment that Loghain cursed in pain. The sword moved from her neck in Loghain's moment of distraction, and Lina rolled over and grabbed her dropped Dar'Missan. She jumped to her feet and kicked Loghain's sword from his hand, and felt triumphant when it clattered noisily against the stone floor.

She barely moved back in time when Loghain attempted to charge her, despite the pain in his knee, though her own abdomen clenched painfully from the first blow it had taken. Lina aimed her Dar'Missan for his injured knee and, in the process of trying to protect it, Loghain stumbled from the weight he put on the injured joint. Lina, perhaps unfairly, used it to her advantage and pushed him with all her strength, and it sent him toppling to the floor. She stepped down hard on the wrist that was holding the shield, and Loghain was forced to relinquish his hold on it and allow her to kick it away from him. With a final gasp of exhaustion Lina swung her Dar'Missan down and held it against Loghain's neck, reversing their earlier position. She was, however, stood out of his arm's reach. He gave a weak chuckle from his place on the floor, appreciating the fact that she had managed to turn the tables.

"I underestimated you, Warden. I should have known better than to try to outmanoeuvre a Dalish, especially one who is a Grey Warden to boot. I yield. I only ask this: what do you intend to do with me?" Lina hesitantly helped the man to his feet, albeit with him looking extremely reluctant, and shook her head at him.

"I never wanted to kill you, Loghain. Even I could see that Ostagar would never have been a military success, there were far too many darkspawn. But you made yourself my enemy, and if I let you live you'll only become a very real threat to the throne. You have to die for your crimes."

At her words, she could see the strong will and steel nerves that had made Loghain the brilliant general that he was renowned as. He stood up straighter, to his full height, something that she knew must have been painful with her carving knife still sticking out of his leg. He looked every inch the proud man that he was, but something in his eyes glinted with respect for her.

There was only one protest from the gathered nobles at her words, and Lina did not have to look to know it was from Anora. It saddened her in a way; she could use someone with Loghain's skills and analytical mind, but Lina knew that if she were to try and recruit Loghain into the Warden's then she would lose Alistair, and she trusted him far more than Loghain.

Lina waited for the nod from Loghain, and when it came she swung her sword sharply and precisely at his neck, killing him instantly. She looked away so as to not have to watch the head fall, and she felt a pang of pity for Anora when the woman broke away from the crowd and fell to her father's body.

Lina moved across the open space towards Loghain's fallen sword and shield, and picking them up she walked to the nearest guard that was loyal to Anora.

"She'll most likely want them burned with his body." She said nothing else as the guard nodded, and walked back towards the crowd of nobles. She noticed Alistair had come to stand near Tamlen; he gave her a small smile of thanks, grateful that the death of his mentor and the desertion at Ostagar had been avenged.

Knowing the lingering feeling of relief in her mind, that she had only just realised was there, was not her own, she stood closer to Tamlen and gave his hand a small squeeze. No one noticed, for all eyes were either on the weeping queen or Arl Eamon as he strode down the centre of the hall.

"And so it is decided: Alistair will take his rightful place on his father's throne." At the mention of his name Alistair's eyes snapped up towards Eamon, with something resembling a glare in them.

"Er, no, that really wasn't decided on. I think that's not even been discussed yet, not really." Though he was more prepared to take the throne than he would have been if Lina hadn't told him to start thinking for himself, he was still hesitant to become King.

"It's clear then, that he abdicates in favour of me. I shall remain Queen." A teary eyed, but proud Anora stood up from beside her father's body. She straightened her dress out and clasped her hands before her, and Lina found it shocking that the woman was able to look so regal when she was covered in so much blood.

"Anora, I hardly think that you are the one to settle this. Warden, what is your opinion?" Eamon turned his gaze onto Lina, and the question startled the blonde elf so much that her eyebrows were practically meeting her hairline.

"I am hardly the one to consult on this: I'm a Dalish elf, I have not experienced life under Anora's rule and I won't be here long enough to experience it with Alistair as king."

"Even so, you alone managed to sway the nobles to our cause, and you have already recruited an army large enough to fight this blight despite your lack of experience in the political arena. I firmly believe there is no one more qualified to choose." Eamon spoke eloquently, almost desperately, as if allowing anyone else to choose would allow Anora to take the throne alone.

Lina sighed, and crossed her arms. Many possibilities crossed her mind: Alistiar, Anora, or both? Could she even persuade them to marry? Anora certainly had more experience, and was far more qualified to lead than Alistair. She crossed her arms over her chest when she realised they were waiting for her to confirm that she would make the choice.

"Very well."

"As the arbiter of this dispute, Lina Mahariel, who do you choose to lead Ferelden?"


	34. Redcliffe

Lina took a deep breath as she eyed the two contestants for the throne before her. One looked nervous and pale, looking for all the world as if he'd rather be anywhere but the Landsmeet chamber. The other looked just as pale but much more willing to take the throne, and Lina was forced to give another sigh. She desperately hoped her plan would work. Facing the two before her, and trying to block out the sight of the various nobles in the background, Lina made her choice.

"I feel that the _best_ option for _Ferelden_ is for Anora and Alistair to rule jointly, should both be willing." Her voice held a persuasive tone to it, though Lina herself felt that it was hardly more than a pleading tone. The reactions from Anora and Alistair were instantaneous.

"I beg your pardon?" Anora first looked scandalised at the thought, though when Lina's words actually sunk in she went from scandalised to horrified to calculating in mere seconds. Alistair's reaction, unfortunately, was not so thoughtful.

"What?! Are you kidding me? She is the daughter of our enemy, the man you just executed, not to mention that she was married to my _brother_-" He was shaking his head defiantly, and was utterly opposed to the idea.

"Alistair, listen to me. You do not have the experience necessary to rule this country alone. You were never raised to do this, and Anora remains your biggest obstacle to peace. She is well loved; if you kill her because of the threat she poses to the throne, you will have riots on your hands, and if you spare her life, she will rise against you with her own supporters. If you marry, Anora can teach you to run the Kingdom, she remains queen and so you have little opposition, and she can rule without having to give credit to you." As Lina spoke Anora nodded, agreeing with her words and seeing that, aside from becoming Queen on her own, there was no better option for her.

"I agree with the Warden. I will consent to marry Alistair." Anora sounded far from thrilled, and Lina supposed that had more to do with Alistair looking so much like Cailan than at her circumstances. Both women looked to Alistair, who was pale but a stubborn look of total disagreement on his face.

"No! She's exactly like Loghain! I will take the crown on my own if I must, but I will not marry Anora."

Lina gave a shake of her head. If he didn't agree quickly then she would have to choose only one of them, and now that she had thought about it she firmly believed that their ruling jointly was the best outcome for the country. She did not like Anora, no, but she knew Alistair needed her if he was to retain his throne with minimal problems.

Time to try a new tactic, then.

* * *

For the first time in a very long time, every single one of her companions, barring Alistair, were present and seated together in one room.

Lina was sitting at the head of the dining room table, resting her head in one hand and tapping the table with her other hand idly. Tamlen stood behind her chair, and was leant against it with one arm folded on the back of the chair and the other being used as a headrest. Fenarel and Shale were stood to the left of him, the former eyeing the latter carefully and the latter keeping a fixed and wary eye on Duster as he sat at her stone feet.

Zevran was in the seat to the right of Lina and he was also tapping on the wooden table, but was tapping it loudly enough that it echoed around the quiet room. Morrigan twitched at every sound his tapping fingers made, and Lina could tell she was refraining from slapping the elf from her seat on Zevran's right. Wynne was next to her, looking even more uncomfortable than Morrigan, and she was fiddling with the necklace around her neck that she had received from Aneirin. Leliana, on the other hand, looked quite happy at her place behind Zevran, where she was stood leaning against his chair and was spinning braids into his hair with her deft fingers.

Oghren watched the two, oddly sober for the time of the day, and the mug of ale before him was untouched. Whether that was because Oghren genuinely felt ill, or because -more likely- the ale tasted awful, Lina did not know. Sten was watching the door, preparing for the worst and looking as though he were expecting a unit of fully armed soldiers to walk through the door.

Eventually, when Zevran started to tap out a jaunty Satinalia tune, Morrigan snapped.

"Will you cease that senseless tapping!" The witch hissed at Zevran through her teeth; her sharp gold eyes met Zevran's soft amber ones with much hostility, though Zevran took it in stride and gave her a grin.

"Ah, you do not like it, my dear forest witch? Perhaps instead I should relay the tune about the wondrous, sumptuous-" Zevran was cut off by the sound of the door to the room opening, and Alistair stepped through it before he could make a comment to either of the women around him.

Alistair looked dazed and uncertain, and Lina decided he definitely had the face of a man who had just spent a while trying to negotiate his wedding. She stood up from her chair and walked towards him, her smile weak once he had shut the door behind him.

"I'm King. I'm the _damned King of Ferelden_. And you, you made me marry Anora!" Though the words spilled from his mouth in an accusatory tone, Lina could tell from the look on his face that the reality of the situation had not yet sunk in. Lina awkwardly rubbed the back of her neck.

"Yes, well, I am sorry about that. But you and I both know that this marriage is really the best for both of you." Alistair nodded in reluctant agreement at her words.

"I'm fine with becoming king, I've had months to come to term with that. I'm more concerned about the engagement: I know it's the best option for either of us but she really is the most manipulative woman I've ever met. She had Cailan wrapped around her little finger, and though I barely know her enough to even _start_ to like her, I have a feeling that with her manipulative skills I'll end up like Cailan before the year is out." Alistair groaned and put his head in his hands, and Lina sympathetically patted his arm.

"I hope you don't mean dead, because if so, I believe the Anderfels are an exceptional place to flee to when you wish to go into hiding." He chuckled at that, and then inclined his head at her.

"Why were you late to the Landsmeet, anyway?" His question made her pause: she and Tamlen had not discussed about whether they would tell their companions about their bonding. Lina feared that some would be offended that they were not told, but she also felt that after nearly a year of travelling together they certainly deserved to know, even if they were not interested. She spun her ring around on her finger with a small smile, and then met Alistair's eyes.

"I was getting married." The word felt unfamiliar and foreign on her tongue, but Lina did not want to have to explain a bonding ceremony and everything it involved, and she knew that the human equivalent was a marriage.

All eyes, with the exception of Shale's, darted to either Lina or Tamlen. Most of them looked surprised at the news, though Leliana smirked and Fenarel gave a small laugh of relief that prompted a look of curiosity from Tamlen.

"You cannot know how long the clan has waited for an announcement such as this. Marethari was expecting it the day you two became hunters. Congratulations, both of you." Fenarel spoke by way of explanation, and Tamlen had to shake his head in slight embarrassment at the statement.

"Creators, you would think half of the clan knew before _we_ did." Tamlen grinned at his clanmate, eager to not face the curios gazes of those seated at the table. Fenarel did not answer him, he merely laughed and looked back towards Alistair.

"I had a feeling you were doing something like that. Hey, do me a favour: if Tamlen ever does something that really angers you, let me know, and that way I can avoid doing it around Anora." Alistair's grin was cheeky.

"Of course. And I'm sure you'll want to send Tamlen tips on how to live with a woman who is clearly your better." Her response gained another laugh from Alistair, who nodded with his grin still in place before he stood up straight once more.

"I actually came here for a reason, however. We're heading to Redcliffe in the morning; Riordan thinks the darkspawn are gathering down in the southwest, so we need to get there as quickly as we can." With the solemn news delivered he left the room, and not long after everyone stood up from their seats and left for their own rooms.

Wynne loitered at the table, and once the room was empty she beckoned for Lina to come towards her. Tamlen hovered in the doorway, uncertain, but a quick look from Wynne assured him that his presence was not requested. Lina approached the older woman with her head held high, though she felt rather like she was about to be scolded.

"Have you changed your mind about the relationship I have with Tamlen?" Lina worded her question carefully, though the moment it left her lips Wynne started to chuckle.

"My dear, even if I had not, you clearly refused to take my advice to heart." Wynne gave her a fond smile and gently placed her hand on her shoulder. "Though I know now that my advice was wrong. You are good for each other."

"How so?" Lina knew the answer herself, of course, but she wished to hear Wynne's new views on her relationship with Tamlen.

"Your relationship was never a result of this blight: you have not blindly jumped into it out of a wish to live when the threat of death hovers so close. No, I think that your relationship would have progressed to this stage already if you had not joined the wardens. I have seen the way he looks at you, dear: full of trust and love and adoration, with the familiarity that one only gains from years of friendship. The greatest loves stem from great friendships, for if you can survive the hardships without romance, then you can certainly survive the ups and downs of marriage." Wynne held her gaze with a smile, one that Lina returned as the older woman spoke.

"I could never have loved anyone else. It was always him."

"I should certainly hope so, dear, considering you married the young man this morning." Wynne's words were not full of scorn, but rather amusement, and it made Lina smile to know that she no longer disapproved of Lina's relationship with Tamlen.

"Anyway, my dear, I have taken up too much of your time." Lina looked up at the woman, and was surprised to see a mischievous smile on her face. "If I'm not mistaken, it is your wedding night, and we need to leave early in the morning. You may wish to hurry to your chambers."

"_Wynne_!" Lina was floored by her words; Wynne was the last person she expected to hear something like that from.

"I am serious, my dear. Shoo."

* * *

If Lina had been expecting bad news when she walked into Riordan's room in Castle Redcliffe, she was not prepared for the truth of what he told them. To know that they could very well survive the worst of the fighting only to go down with the Archdemon was frightening, and Lina felt no need to interrupt when Riordan announced that he himself would take the final blow if possible.

Tamlen, Alistair and herself left Riordan's room looking very pale and very ill, and Alistair left them for his own room quickly once they were on the corridor. Tamlen and Lina could feel each other's nausea at the news in the back of their minds, which seemed to make it even worse for they could not take comfort in one another's bravery.

"To have come so far, only to find out that one of us must die, I don't like it." Lina felt like her own words were a massive understatement, but was too stunned to think of anything more eloquent.

"I feel...empty. I've never felt this before." Tamlen sounded pained, unable to express precisely what he felt, but Lina could feel it and she had to shake her head at him.

"I have. That day I went back for you in the ruins. Duncan told me that you were gone, dead, eaten by the darkspawn. I felt empty. I couldn't believe it, it was like his words did not register with me. I must have looked feral, to him, but I was so scared, so selfishly scared. What was I going to do without you? The Shem had to be wrong. I couldn't think anything else, I just had to get to you."

"How did you find me?" Tamlen looked at her curiously, having never heard of the events that had lead to his being found in the ruin. He had no idea that Duncan had nearly left him in there.

"I think the taint inside me could sense where you were. I remember feeling a tug, a pull in your direction like a dark chord. It was strange." She took his hand in her own, almost as if she was trying to remind herself that he was safe.

"I shudder to think what might have happened if they had managed to drag me out of the ruin. Fenarel, Merrill and Duncan were all trying to grab me when I leapt through the mirror frame. If they had caught me..." She trailed off, unwilling to think of other outcomes. Tamlen wrapped his arm around her shoulder with a small smile.

"Don't think about it, you found me in time and we are here now, together." He gave her a squeeze and she leaned her head into his shoulder.

"I just- how do we know who strikes the killing blow? Riordan and I can strike as many times as we can, but who's to say that I might have struck the dying blow to its head even if Riordan is the one who stabs its heart?"

"Don't think on it, Lina. You're already unlikely to get any sleep tonight without thinking of things like that." Tamlen's voice was hesitant despite his words, and Lina merely hummed in response to them.

"Can you remember when Marethari once predicted I would live long past my first century? I don't think that's likely to happen now." Lina spoke quietly and with a dark laugh, but Tamlen heard her. He spun her to face him and cupped her face in his hands.

"Listen to me: if we die, we die. No one comes out of war unscathed, especially not when it's four Grey Warden's at the head of an army against the darkspawn. Neither of us wants to die, Lina, and I know _I_ was supposed to die in that ruin. And if I die fighting the darkspawn, well, I'm glad I had a few months more with you." He gave her a gentle kiss before stepping away from her completely, and she gave him a small smile.

"How can you say that? I mean - never mind. I'm just a little worked up, is all." She moved to her bedroom door with a sigh, and pushed it open. "You go ahead to your room; I'll join you in a few minutes." With a nod Tamlen disappeared around the corner, and Lina entered her room only to jump in surprise at the sight of Morrigan at the fireplace.

"Do not be alarmed, my friend." Morrigan turned to face her, no longer staring at the flames as the cogs in her mind spun endlessly. When Lina entered the room fully she felt the warmth of the fireplace envelope her, and she almost wanted to collapse into the nearest chair.

"Is something wrong Morrigan? There must be if you're hiding in my rooms at ten in the evening." She spoke with a weary smile and, unable to resist, she fell into the nearest chair and leant forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

"Yes, but the problem lies not with me. I know what happens when a Warden kills the Archdemon. I have known for a long time that a sacrifice is needed, and that the sacrifice could be you." Morrigan broke off here, her voice wavering slightly, before the proud mage continued. "You do not need to die." If Lina was fully awake, she'd recognise that wavering tone as grief and sorrow, and she would have realised that Morrigan really had come to think of her as a sister.

"What are you talking about?" Lina's interest was piqued once the words really registered with her, and she leant forward in curiosity.

"There is a way out, a loop in the hole if you may. I know how you can kill the Archdemon and survive."

"How?" Lina sat up properly in her chair, and Morrigan walked over to her from her place beside the fire.

"I know of a dark ritual, to be performed on the eve of battle. You must convince Alistair or Tamlen to lay with me, and it will conceive a child whose essence will be sought out by the Archdemon when you kill it. Rather than fight against the Grey Warden who kills it, the untainted soul of the old god will seek the child like a beacon. There are some things worth preserving in this world, and the soul of an old god is one of them. The child will be born with the soul of the god, and the Archdemon will be destroyed." Morrigan spoke quickly, hoping to make the blonde elf more susceptible to her plan. It wasn't working.

"Why Tamlen or Alistair? Can it not be Riordan?" Her words were practically whispered, quiet enough for only the witch to hear. Her emotions were suddenly hitting her strongly, and she knew that Tamlen would undoubtedly feel it and try to understand what was going on. Morrigan gave a sigh.

"No, he will not do. I need a Grey Warden who has not been tainted for long. Riordan is too old and will not agree to it. Tamlen is the best chance for success, but Alistair would also suffice." Lina narrowed her eyes at this.

"And you think they would agree to this?" Lina stood up and began to pace the room, and Morrigan could see the elf was beginning to get frantic. She wanted to freeze the woman in order to stop her from pacing, but knew that doing so would break the elf's trust altogether.

"You are a persuasive woman, Lina. You could easily convince them with the right words. Your elf would do this to save you, and Alistair could be convinced that it is best for Ferelden. And do stop pacing!" Morrigan no longer looked amused or pleasant; she looked impatient and annoyed. Lina's voice was rising with each sentence.

"You are asking me to convince either my bondmate or my friend to spend the spend the night with you: forgive me if I cannot stop pacing the floor!" Lina hoped her words might dissuade Morrigan. A Dalish Bond was important in a Dalish marriage: as an empathic bond, the partner could feel the strong emotions of their other half in the back of their mind. It was always faint unless they either hadn't learnt to block it yet or the emotions were particularly strong, and a broken bond was painful. It was how Athras had known that his wife was still alive. If Lina convinced Tamlen to take part in the ritual she would, as a newly bonded elf who had not yet learned to block it out, essentially feel everything in the back of her mind. Lina was not sure she could stand it.

"Do you wish to die tomorrow? I suspect that you do not. You must convince one of them to partake in the ritual." Morrigan looked both desperate and angry, and Lina dragged her hands through her short hair in frustration.

"I cannot do it, Morrigan! Alistair was a bastard child, do you honestly thinks he wants one of his own? And he hates you!"

"Then convince Tamlen. He would gladly do it to save you." Her response was deadpan, and Lina could feel her temper rising.

"I can't!" Her hair was messed up from her hands pulling at the short strands, but Morrigan was remaining calm when Lina could not.

"_Can't or won't_?"

"Damn you, I _won't_! Can't." Lina collapsed back into the chair, feeling the anger seep out of her to be replaced by sorrow. "You must know a Warden has difficulty conceiving, be they male or female. If both are Wardens, it's pretty much impossible. It's selfish, and trivial in the face of what is coming, but I'll never have children. I can't live knowing there's a child of his out there, when I know I can never carry his children myself." The child from her dream at the Circle Tower seemed so long ago now that she could barely remember the features of his face, or the weight of his small hand in her own. Back then she hadn't known about the taint reducing her chance of pregnancy, but it was highly likely that the demon knew.

She couldn't help but wonder if the true temptation of that dreamworld had been the vision of a child she would never have.

Either way, it was a truth she had tried to deny ever since she had discovered it and only now, when confronted with the offer, was it hitting her. She felt selfish, incredibly so, but she could not allow this woman - this human - to succeed where she never would.

"You'll die." The words ripped her from her thoughts, but Lina shook her head.

"Then I die. I don't want to die, but I will."

"I- I don't want you to die." The words were shockingly heartfelt from the cold woman before her, but Lina knew better than to point that out.

"Then try Alistair."

"You and I both know he would never agree to lay with me."

"Then why did you give me a choice, Morrigan?"

"To test your reaction. And I have it."

"And?"

"You are a fool. Should you survive this, then live well my friend. But I will not stay here and watch you die, knowing you threw away the one chance I gave you." Morrigan moved to the door, unable to look at the sad, defeated elf whose eyes shone with exhausted tears. She had disappeared from the room before Lina had time to say anything else.

She stayed there in silence for several minutes and attempted to push her emotions down, despite the shaking of her shoulders. The sadness at Morrigan's departure and the truth of her own fertility was threatening to choke her, and she forced herself to breathe steadily to keep herself calm. It was a fruitless effort; she wanted nothing more than to collapse in on herself, to claw at her heart and _demand_ it to stop aching.

Shakily, and after ten minutes of attempting to regulate her breathing, she managed to stand up without stumbling. Lina slipped out of her bedroom door and past Alistair's room, vaguely aware that she could hear him murmuring in his sleep despite the closed door. At least he was sleeping, talkative or no.

She moved into Tamlen's room so silently that he almost didn't hear her enter. He was awake, sitting on the window bench with a confused look on his face as he stared out into the blackness outside. He inclined his head towards her as she entered, but Lina stayed quiet and instead turned down some of the indoor lanterns that were making his room bright.

"I heard you shouting." He murmured quietly to her as she crawled onto his bed, one leg hanging off the edge and the other folded beneath her. He had also felt the torrent of emotions that she had experienced, from fury to distress, to anguish. However he had also felt it recede from his own mind slowly, as if it had taken a great effort to reign the emotions in and hide them from him, and so he did not bring it up lest she wanted him to. She was looking at him strangely, as though she could not comprehend that he had heard the conversation and yet was acting so calmly.

"You heard the conversation? All of it?"

"Not quite. I came to check on you and bumped into Alistair, and that's when we heard raised voices. I'm guessing the other voice was Morrigan?" At Lina a slow nod, he continued. "She must have placed a ward over your room though, we could hear you both shouting but we couldn't distinguish a single word you said." A look of understanding crossed Lina's face as he explained, and her face changed from a look of fearful relief to dejection.

"You wouldn't want to know what we were saying." Lina muttered darkly, falling down onto the mattress and curling up tightly. Tamlen moved from his perch at the window and sat on the bed, and gently manoeuvred Lina so that her head was resting on his lap.

"What happened?" His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. He tenderly ran his fingers through her hair in hope that it would comfort her, but she only gave a heavy sigh.

"Morrigan was just wary about the chances of survival tomorrow. She left. She thinks she has it bad? She wasn't the one who had to face dying tomorrow." Lina's words were almost muffled, spoken as they were to his knee. With a frown he pulled her up so that she could rest her head on his shoulder, and he reached behind him to grab one of the blankets that was folded up on his pillow. She burrowed her head into his shoulder and held on tightly, as though letting go would break the grip she had on her emotions.

"What do you mean?"

"She wanted to... I couldn't..." Lina broke off with a heavy sigh, unable to continue. She tried once more to speak, but the moment she opened her mouth the dam burst, and Tamlen felt her emotions hit him like a tidal wave. He could have blocked it if he wanted, but she was suddenly and quietly sobbing into his shoulder uncontrollably, and it was the only way he could try to understand without making her speak.

He held her tightly, and rubbed soothing circles up her back with one hand as she clung to him. There was no way for him describe her emotions; there was a yearning powerful enough to induce the sobbing fit, but he could not feel much else in the recesses of his mind. Tamlen suspected that the only reason he had initially felt her emotions so strongly was because it had been so sudden.

He held her tightly for hours, uncertain as to when the crying had truly stopped. Tamlen laid them both gently down on the bed, one arm still wrapped tight around her, and took a look at her face.

Lina had drifted off to sleep, but into a slumber plagued with dreams of a city long destroyed and a faceless child.

* * *

Rewritten. A/N at end here cause I didn't want to give my thoughts on the ending here at the beginning, in case it gave it away. I don't know how I feel about the second half of the chapter, and I really hope I'm not milking the idea of a Dalish bond to the point where it's ridiculous. I'll explain more on it in the final chapter, which is one I'll be adding with all the chances to the fic. Two more to rewrite, fingers crossed I'll get them done before Sunday when I go to Uni!


	35. Archdemon

A/N: Rewritten.

* * *

"As we have very few supplies left, I suggest taking _only_ three others into the city with you. Anyone you do not need can stay behind and defend the gates." Riordan's voice, low and resigned, was heard only by Lina. She nodded, careful to not show any sign of fear on her face. Their supplies were running out, and Lina knew exactly who she would be taking into the city with her. She needed brute strength, and anyone with the ability to heal.

All of her companions stared at her, some eager to go headlong into the city, and some looking rather hesitant at the thought.

"Wynne, Oghren and Shale. You're with me. The rest of you defend the gates, but I want no heroics from any of you." The words were similar to those Duncan had spoken all those months ago, when Lina had still considered herself as free as a bird and tied to no cause. How things had changed. She hoped that she looked as confident as Duncan had the last time she had seen him.

"Who will lead the group here?"

"Alistair and Tamlen. One as cover, one as main assault, though you can decide between yourselves who leads which." Her voice was firm and her posture straight, but her resolve was betrayed by the simple fact that she could look at neither male in the eyes.

"A smart choice. I will head into the city now, on my own. Say your goodbyes to everyone, and be quick about it. Remember, nothing you have ever done will compare to what you do today, whether we fail or not. May your gods watch over you, sister." His voice was as rough as gravel, an attempt to be firm and not hopeless. With that he was gone, having disappeared through the crowd of soldiers to head for Fort Drakon. Wynne, Shale and Oghren moved away from her, aware that anything they needed to say could be said later. They needed to move quickly, and they would not delay her.

Leliana was the first to approach her. Her eyes reflected unshed tears as she pulled the blonde elf to her and embraced her tightly. The rivets of her armour pressed into Lina's arms and neck, but the elf did her best to remember the sensation rather than pull away.

"We stand here on the edge of the sword, my friend. What we do today determines the fate of the world. It is a bitter thought, and I would like to see victory on the horizon. It is strange; the stories never tell you how it feels to be here, in the now. When we survive this, I shall be sure correct this fault." Leliana's smile was wide but false, full of worry for herself and for her friend.

Lina could only smile back.

"I do wish, however, that I was going with you into the city. But I accept that you think my place is here, and I shall do my best. I will see you again, at the victory celebration." With that, Leliana left to stand with Wynne, in order to give the woman her own goodbye. The rest of her companions said similar things, all trying to convince themselves that they would see each other again once victory was announced. All certain that she would kill the Archdemon. Lina didn't have the heart to tell them that if she killed the Archdemon, they'd be attending her funeral, not her celebration.

"So, this is it? Want to give me a reason for why you're not taking me with you?" Alistair's words were heavy, and she knew that he felt it his duty to be there for the final blow.

"You're king, Alistair. And if I fall, you need to warn the other Grey Wardens. And besides, you're needed here."

"Where it's highly likely I'll _survive_? But I know better than to argue with you. It has been an honour, Lina Mahariel, to fight with you. Now go, kick its arse." Alistair shook her hand with far too much confidence for his demeanour, but Lina said nothing and watched him move over to Wynne. She tore her gaze away when she felt Tamlen's presence before her, full of fear and worry. She found that she had no wish to say goodbye.

"Tamlen, I-"

"Why aren't you taking me with you?" His question was quick and abrupt; his hope of getting an honest answer. Lina's eyes flickered from his to Shale briefly, but when she locked eyes with him again she found she could not lie. She tried anyway.

"I need brute strength on my team." The lie was as clear as blue sky, something they'd almost forgotten the look of. Tamlen stepped closer.

"And what is the real reason?" He did not sound annoyed, only sad, and he shifted his footing and wrapped his hands around her upper arms as though to hold her there forever. She gave a sigh.

"If Riordan falls, and you are with me at the end, I know you'll insist on taking the final blow. I can't let you do that, I won't let you die for me." Her voice wavered, but she did not hesitate.

"I would gladly die for you. I would do anything, anything, to keep you safe." He was determined, and she felt his grip tightening on her arms as she shook her head.

"Don't you see? That's the problem: I would die for you, Tamlen, a million times over, but you cannot ask me to keep going knowing you died for me." The look in his eyes softened, and he stepped even closer to her.

"Yet you're asking _me_ to do just that."

"I know. But I'm the one making the decisions here." She gave a bitter laugh as a tear fell down her face, but she quickly wiped it away with the back of her gloves before Tamlen had a chance to do so. He leaned in carefully and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, so light that Lina could have mistaken it for a wisp of air. She smiled.

"I love you, Tamlen."

"And I you. Now go on, make me proud." He gave her a tight embrace, unwilling to let go but knowing he had to, that the course of the battle depended on all of their actions.

As he watched her leave the district without a glance behind her, he knew that it could very well be the last time he'd see her alive.

* * *

The scene unfolded before them; a twirling blur of black and blue and white, the odd flash of silver and spatters of blood raining to the floor to outline the blazing path the two were making. The spin and flick of a tail to attempt to get the attacker off; the ensuing stab in the back to try to stay on without falling off and down, down, down to a sure and painful death.

The city of Denerim was frozen beneath the sight. From their separate positions the party at the gates and the party in the city watched the fight above, their faces bearing matching expressions of horror. Wynne had her hand pressed hard to her mouth, and Lina's stomach lurched every time the Archdemon flapped its wings. At the gates, Tamlen was stood next to a still Alistair, silently praying that Riordan could stay on the dragon long enough for it to land.

Pockets of darkspawn invaded both parties and pulled them from their reveries. As Alistair and Tamlen led the attack to the gates, Lina and her three companions faced rogue genlocks that had emerged from the shadows of the alley behind the palace district.

Lina barely spun in time to avoid a knife in the back, but felt her blood run cold nonetheless at the feeling of a tainted blade grazing the skin at the back of her neck. She took her Dar'Misu and stabbed it into the throat of the genlock at the same time that she rammed her sword through its body. It fought on despite the wound, attempting to deal a fatal blow to Lina before it died.

With a sidestep to avoid the genlock's blade, Lina pulled her sword out of the creature quickly, and then sliced it down to behead it. The head fell from its shoulders and hit the floor just as Oghren cleaved a second one in two. There was an awful crunching sound, like the grinding of steel against ceramic, and Lina didn't have to look to know that Shale had taken care of the final genlock.

Lina gave the golem a nod of appreciation, and she felt the familiar tingling sensation of a stamina spell being cast on her. She looked to the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of the struggle, and almost cried out in horror.

The dragon was flying blindly over the city, a writhing spinning mess of fury. It was thrashing in the air as a sword, firmly wedged in its scales, sliced through skin and scale in a vertical line down its back before halting at its tailbone. Hanging precariously off that sword was Riordan. Lina stopped herself from clamping her eyes shut as the Archdemon flicked its tail violently, knowing already what was about to happen.

The tail connected with Riordan's dangling body and impacted it with a rib crushing slam. He flew up into the air from the force of it and, with nothing to grab on to, he came crashing back down to the earth.

Time seemed to slow down as they watched him fall to the ground. The darkspawn were distracted by their master's pain and swiftly cut down, and every living soul held their breaths as they witnessed the first Grey Warden fall in battle.

The nausea hit Tamlen hard, though whether it was his own or made worse by Lina's he did not know. The elf let loose a moan of anguish once the falling body had disappeared behind the walls, and he half stumbled to the nearest surface that he could lean against.

A moment later he was throwing up violently into the decorative, burning shrubbery. Alistair stood near him, braving the vomit as he tried to comprehend what was going to happen. Tamlen was already two steps ahead, and he met the human's gaze with such a haunted and distressed look in his eyes that Alistair nearly recoiled from the intensity of it. He felt wave after wave of pity slam into him.

"She's going to die." Alistair spoke softly and in utter disbelief, almost frozen in the silence of realisation. He could only watch the elf crumble to pieces before him.

* * *

Several hundred feet away, Lina was standing on the edge of a bridge, violently hurling up the contents of her stomach. Wynne was behind her, rubbing soothing circles on her back to help her, though the mage was unable to understand why she was suddenly so ill. When Riordan had disappeared behind the buildings the nausea had overcome Lina, and she had barely managed to avoid throwing up on herself. The grief had overcome her soon after, but she knew immediately that it was not her own.

She had invested too much hope in Riordan surviving long enough to make the killing blow.

She spent several minutes leaning over the bridge in an attempt to calm her breathing and organise her thoughts, and it was with a sad resignation that she tried her hardest to block the bond in the back of her mind. The overwhelming feeling of grief was fading fast.

"It is not easy to watch a comrade fall, my dear." Wynne's voice was soothing as she attempted to comfort the young elf, and she watched in pity as Lina choked up the remnants of her stomach. Wynne helped her to straighten up when she was finished.

"That's not what I- I'm going to die. I didn't- I thought Riordan would manage to strike it-" Lina was cut off as another shudder wracked through her and she vomited again over the bridge, a horrible mess of saliva and bile. Wynne frowned.

"You are babbling, dear. What is it that is troubling you so much?" She spoke softly as the elf tried once more to stand up properly despite the aching in her stomach. Lina gave her a look of despair, but as she opened her mouth to explain they were distracted by Oghren's grunt of warning. Several darkspawn were heading towards them, and Shale had already ended towards one of the ogres.

Lina gave Wynne a nod to confirm that she was feeling better, and she pulled the horn from her belt and gave it three sharp blows. The noise could be heard all around the city as Wynne amplified it.

Minutes later, as Oghren and Shale finished off the ogre and charged into the scattering fray, a dozen soldiers from the Redcliffe army entered through the gates.

The battle through the palace district was made much easier with the help of the soldiers, and Lina had switched her weapons to conserve her energy. Her bow hung limp in her hand as Shale finished off the hurlock that had been slowly chipping her, and Oghren stumbled towards herself and Wynne in order to be healed. He was drenched in thick black blood, but there was a carefree grin on his face that suggested he was enjoying this.

Lina only sighed and moved aside so he could reach Wynne, knowing it was a waste of energy to scold his recklessness and wanting to keep the peace, now that she knew she would be the one to kill the Archdemon.

* * *

"_Stay here_!" Lina's voice was only just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of the mages below, who were desperately casting fireballs towards the Archdemon. The dragon was roaring with pain and frustration every few minutes, and Lina knew it was loud enough to be heard throughout the city. The ground trembled beneath them with every furious roar, and Lina marvelled at the fact that they were still alive this far in.

"Warden, are you out of your sodding mind? I'm not staying at the side of a ballista when there's a huge sodding dragon just waiting for me to kick its ass!" Oghren yelled back at her in indignation. His hands were wrapped tight around his axe, and he was stubbornly ignoring all of her orders to stay at the ballista.

"This is not the time for you to be an arse! I can't stay here, I need to be the one to kill it, Oghren!" Lina swore she was hissing her words, but as Oghren opened his mouth to protest she threw her hunting knife behind him. The dwarf turned in time to see it sticking out the neck of a genlock.

"You can stay here Warden, I can hold these bastards off much better than you!" Oghren pulled her blade out of its neck and handed it to her with a bearded scowl, and before Lina could protest he had gripped his axe and ran as fast as his little legs could carry him.

Lina watched him in frustration as he reached the Archdemon and, alongside Shale, gave it all he had. Lina herself was shocked that the golem hadn't been reduced to a pile of rubble yet, as the Archdemon wasted no time in swinging its deadly tail around at them. Wynne was on the ballista tower opposite, though she was there wholly to act as healer.

With a furious scream to herself Lina dodged down to the ballista tower and, realising she had no choice, decided on whittling down the Archdemon until it was weak enough for her to attack herself.

Her deft fingers fiddled with the triggering mechanism of the ballista and Lina, bent down on her knees, aimed it towards the Archdemon and fired two bolts in rapid succession. They bounced off the scales uselessly, having created only small wounds and nothing major enough to do more than catch its attention. She cursed, then desperately tried to think of a way to fire the bolts without wasting them.

Lina briefly pondered the idea of going for the tail, but her thoughts were slammed to a halt when the song in her blood pulsed, loud and unbearable and enough to drown out the sound of the battle. She froze where she was, and slowly her eyes raised to find the Archdemon's cold gaze on her. The bolts had gathered its attention. Lina realised that it knew, despite the darkspawn around them, that she was the tainted one; the one to kill or risk being killed.

Slowly, as though time was lagging the longer she stared, Lina's fingers moved the ballista's aim slightly higher up. Pure fear drowned out all else, including the pull of the Archdemon's song, and it was with shaking hands that Lina pulled the trigger and let the bolt fly.

It landed, out of luck or stupidity, right between the dragon's eyes. The small explosion was enough to damage the Archdemon's eyesight, and the following roar of pain shook the fort and the earth beneath them. It desperately swung its head in pain, and that small distraction allowed Shale and Oghren to mercilessly attack the dragon's hind legs. Unfortunately, in its writhing, the dragon managed to flatten the remaining circle mage before it and it was with a heavy heart that Lina called in more back up. Four long blows ensured the coming support of the dwarves, and Lina turned her attention back to the ballista.

She aimed for its face and neck, desperate for another lucky shot. Oghren was moving quite quickly around the dragon with his axe, and his height allowed him to duck underneath a moving hind leg and hack at the fleshy inside of it. The Archdemon now had to rely on its remaining senses to find the relentless dwarf and golem at its feet. As it swung its forepaw around in an arc to try and catch one of them, Lina dropped the ballista bolts she was trying to load into the contraption. Though the dragon missed the two at its feet, the loud clattering of the bolts on the floor attracted its attention.

Shale used the distraction to move under the dragon and deliver a strong punch to its underbelly; the beast swayed slightly and jumped, up into the air and out of the golems reach. Lina desperately shoved a bolt into the ballista when it was out of her sight, and her fingers were shaking madly as she worked.

A chill went down her spine when, instead of seeing the Archdemon fly back into her range of sight, she felt a heavy impact on the ground behind her. She turned, full of dread, and saw the dragon not six metres away.

It had smashed the other ballista as it had landed, and the ready clicking of her own ballista confirmed that it had landed in the right place. A low rumble sounded from its throat, and it caused Lina to swallow thickly.

She hoped, prayed beyond all else, that the taint in her blood would allow it to mistake her for a darkspawn. But Lina knew that the Archdemon had long distinguished her modified taint from the rest, and she failed to move backwards in time to avoid the large claw swinging at her. With the full force of the dragon she was sent flying off the ballista tower to the floor below. Several of her ribs cracked on landing, and Lina was so stunned that she barely registered the familiar warmth of Wynne's magic wrapping around her.

She stood shakily, and finding that she could still use her legs she ran up towards the ballista. The Archdemon immediately went for her, its jaws were open wide and ready to snatch her up and rag her around like a doll. Lina pulled the trigger for the ballista just in time: the bolt flew into the dragon's open mouth and exploded at the back of its throat. Its claw flew out once again, this time catching both Lina and the ballista. The wood splintered around her with a shredding sound, and Lina felt a sharp piece of wood rip open the skin on her back. She gasped in pain, almost unable to move from the pain on her back and the ache in her chest from the impact of the claw. The blades which she had moved to unsheathe had snapped off her belt and were lying in the wreck of the ballista.

Lina knew it would be too dangerous to turn around and try to dig her blades out, and she had a feeling that the cause of the wound on her back was her splintered, useless bow. She desperately glanced around her for a weapon, any weapon, and was far too relieved to spot a greatsword lying on the ground next to its fallen owner. She darted for it, hoping she had enough strength in her to lift it towards the Archdemon.

The dragon went to snap at her once more but, as it was blinded, misjudged her height entirely. It snapped at the air a metre above her head, and swinging the greatsword with all of her might she managed to slice through the dragon's windpipe.

It made a strangled, suffocating noise as its legs buckled. The pain was too much for the Archdemon to keep its head up, and as it lowered it in agony Lina found the strength to shove the sword into its skull.

She took a deep, fearful breath and cast her eyes over the city in the direction of the city gates. Lina thought of her companions, all the men and women at the gates who had wished her luck, fully believing that they would see her once more. And Tamlen - she had heard that a broken bond could be painful, and she grieved for him, for the pain he'd surely feel once the victory was announced and the spaces in the back of his mind were empty again.

And creators, she was scared. Lina had no idea what it would be like to die; she did not want to think of the possibility of death before now, and she could not imagine what it would be like to have to fight a loosing battle over her own body.

She glanced down at the Archdemon, and found she was unable to feel pity for the entity that she knew would destroy her soul as well as its own. Resigned, and with a wave of new resolve, she twisted the sword around in a full circle.

It went for her immediately.

The fight was desperate, and the pull unyielding. She felt as though she were underwater, scrabbling for air but unable to fight the current that slowly dragged her down with each passing moment. There was a chord between them, herself and the Archdemon, acting as the siphon which pulled the Archdemon to her. Lina could sense the pain that the dragon was feeling, but it was nothing compared to the heaviness pressing down on her chest as she tried to let go of the sword. Her entire body tingled with an odd sort of ache, every piece of her feeling as though it were being replaced with the essence of the Archdemon. The taint in her blood rejoiced at the feeling, and her soul fought against it with every fibre of her being.

It was painful, now. The essence was still leaving the Archdemon, and it filtered into her own skin with the sharpness of a thousand daggers. All the warmth left her and she vaguely registered what felt like the severing of her marriage bond. She did not see or acknowledge the golden light surrounding the Archdemon, nor did she hear the mournful howl of her Mabari across the city.

A thunderous whooshing sound accompanied her soul's rejection of the tainted Old God, and the light exploded upwards in a beam. It illuminated the entire city and was a sign to all watching, darkspawn and soldier, that their leaders were gone.

The beam pulsed once, powerfully, and knocked everyone in range of it to the floor. Lina staggered backwards, having been held upright by the sword, and felt the last of the Archdemon's essence leave her as she fell into the darkness waiting to claim her. Her body kept falling until it landed, head first, onto the floor next to her dead foe.

The beam disappeared.


	36. Epilogue

He'd felt his heart sink so many times during his life that he knew it was impossible to name them all. The first time he'd felt that sinking feeling in his gut, was when he'd pushed Lina into a ravine at age five. When his parents had dissolved their marriage bond and his mother left to go back to her original clan, he had cried for hours in his tent with only Lina as the witness to his heart's grief. At sixteen, the age of curiosity and wonder, he had asked his best friend to kiss him to know what it felt like, and had felt the snapping fear that he had just broken their friendship as her unreadable face had simply watched him in the candlelight.

Tamlen had felt a very different dread soon after, when she had placed her book aside and kissed him gently, chastely, on the corner of his lips. It had felt like a kick to the stomach when her lips quirked in a smile and a blush hit her cheeks, and Tamlen realised with a pang that he was in love with the beautiful elf that he shared a tent with.

And the two times in the past year alone, when he had carried his limp and dying clan mate out of a creators-forsaken Tevinter ruin with only that dread in his heart to keep him going and give him hope.

When a finally-calmed Tamlen and a wary Alistair fought their way through the palace district to reach the fort, they had only reached the corpses left behind when the ground shook beneath them and Fort Drakon lit up the smoky sky like a fireworks show. As Alistair staggered backwards in awe and confusion, Tamlen staggered forwards with the weight of a crippling fear that was not his own. As his armour clad knees hit the ground the bond in his mind snapped, and he felt the pain like a white hot brand in the back of his mind.

The light disappeared at the same moment as the presence in the far reaches of his mind blinked out. Tamlen knelt there, in the dirt and the rain amongst the cheers of victory, and watched the entrance to Fort Drakon for the emergence of whatever was left of Lina's party.

Twenty minutes later, Tamlen watched as Wynne, Shale and Oghren left the fort, carrying the limp body of his bondmate between them.

* * *

Death had felt exactly as she thought it would. There was been sounds, a high pitched whistle and roaring and screaming and then names. Endless names, which echoed around her mind as her life teetered on the edge of oblivion, followed by her own memories of faces and names that flashed by too quickly to grab.

Then the pain came. The aching shell of her body fought the essence of the Archdemon with all that it was, but the darkness overtook her before she could be entirely sure that she had lost. She was engulfed in it, suspended in the nothingness and surrounded by a beautiful silence that she knew she could never be aware of enough to acknowledge.

Lina acknowledged it once the darkness had receded, and the confusion was enough to bring her slowly into awareness. Knowing that she should have been unaware of the blissful silence, Lina attempted to move. Her body did not respond.

Death was no longer feeling _quite _like it should. Lina was steadily becoming aware of a softness around her, something that felt a lot like blankets and a soft pillow. She was beginning to register the sounds of voices, hectic but quiet and murmured, and _his _panicked tones begging her to wake up. Lina wasn't sure how long she was aware for, but she counted several periods of silence before there was urgent talk of crowns and princes and ceremonies.

She clenched her fists in frustration at her inability to move, then froze. It was the confirmation she needed that she wasn't dead, and her proof that she was now able to make small movements. There was a soft cotton sheet under her palms, and she could feel the cool metal of her wedding ring against her finger. In a rush of pain and heavy-headedness all her senses came burst to life. Pain rifled through her from wounds that hadn't been healed, and she could clearly distinguish the scents of numerous medical herbs and the faint tang of healing magic. And there, in the background of it all as though she were soaked in it, was the scent of firewood and the earth. Eyes flying open, she blinked to see nothing but a coloured blur of white, cream, yellow and brown.

Soft footfalls paced the floor outside the door, but Lina could hear no movement from inside the room. Blinking again, she willed her eyes to focus and was immediately started at how _clean _the room was. She half wondered if she really _was _dead.

The handle on the door twisted and cracked open a small amount, as though someone were looking through the crack. Lina could only see darkness on the other side through the small gap, although her eyes had not yet properly adjusted to the lighting of the room. She instead stared up at the ceiling, dark grey in contrast to the white walls and a dull enough colour that she felt no pain in looking at it. Lost in her own thoughts about where she could possibly be, she did not notice someone enter the room and place themselves in the chair next to her bed. Only when they gently cleared their throat did she realise she was no longer alone.

Lina turned her head, breath hitching in her throat when her eyes fell upon a familiar face, pale and etched with worry lines. Tamlen looked much older than he had the final time she had seen him, and the dark circles under his bloodshot grey eyes made him look terribly ill. The healing scab that cut across his entire left cheek made the contrast with his pale face even worse. It was, undeniably, her husband and the thought scared her. She stared at him in confusion, though he took only a shaky breath before he spoke.

"Do you know who I am?" His voice was hesitant and on the verge of cracking, and Lina could see the tension in his shoulders and the hard line of his mouth. His eyes, however, pleaded with her, though for what she could not tell. Lina opened her mouth to speak.

"Of course-" Her voice came out dry and gravelly, and Lina could manage no more words before she broke off into a coughing fit from the pain in her dry throat. Pain wracked through her at the violent movements, but her eyes could not tear themselves away from the utter relief on Tamlen's face. The tension in him drained away completely, and he reached for a pitcher of water and a glass on the table beside her bed. As he handed her a glass of water he switched the chair for the bed itself, and seated himself carefully next to her and helped her take small sips.

"We weren't sure if the experience with the Archdemon would have wiped your memories- careful." Lina forced herself to refrain from drinking whole mouthfuls, but it was difficult when her throat felt as dry as the deserts. Only when Tamlen pulled the glass away from her gently did she attempt to speak once more.

"Why am I still alive?" Her voice was still hoarse, but Tamlen could understand what she was attempting to say.

"You're not allowed to leave me just yet." He didn't want to give her the truth, not so soon after she had awoken. Though his answer raised another question in her mind as she reached out to the familiar presence of his mind and found it missing.

"The bond?" She asked quietly; she was beginning to feel a dull ache when she attempted to focus on the furthest corners of her mind. Tamlen shook his head.

"Severed. We don't exactly know what happened with the Archdemon, but it was powerful enough to snap it. We'll have to be re-bonded, if you wish." Lina inwardly winced; she'd heard from Ashalle that a broken marriage bond was initially painful. It was the reason her mother had left and the reason Tamlen's father was never the same once his wife had dissolved their marriage. She felt a wave of shame when she acknowledged privately that she had been all too willing to have him suffer the pain if it meant he would survive. The pain would not have lasted long, but the thought was…uncomfortable.

"Tamlen, why am I alive?" She repeated her earlier question with more force, and she could tell by the way his face fell that he _knew_. Something was holding him back, and she felt dread hit her stomach. The Archdemon couldn't possibly still be alive, could it?

"Promise me you'll stay calm."

"Tamlen?" Lina sounded increasingly agitated; Tamlen had to push her back down on the bed when she struggled to try and sit up. He took her cold hand in his own and sighed.

"The night before the battle, I know Morrigan came to you. She went straight to Alistair after you refused to do the ritual and, well, she had a lot more luck persuading Alistair to agree than she did you. I'm told she didn't have to argue her case for long. She disappeared for good when the Archdemon fell." Tamlen's voice was quiet; he knew that there was the risk of being overheard, and if it got back to the Warden's then they would all be in trouble. At the very least, Lina could play dumb when they came to question her.

"How do you know about this? I'm sure Alistair was hardly willing to cough up the information." Lina was becoming increasingly sceptical and panicky, prompting a frown from Tamlen. He took both her hands in his own and exhaled.

"He had to reassure me when we reached the fort. I thought you were dead; he had no choice but to tell me everything." Tamlen's voice cracked towards the end of his words, and Lina gave his hands a tight squeeze in comfort. She was worried about what the Warden's would do if they arrived in Denerim to question what had happened: would they believe she had lost recollection of the final battle? When _were _they likely to arrive? A thought occurred to her.

"How long have I been unconscious?" Her eyes scanned the room for any indication of the date; there was none.

"Two weeks. Wynne kept you unconscious whilst she healed you, but she reversed the magic a week ago to allow you to wake up on your own. You've woken up just in time; the coronation ceremony is the day after tomorrow, and Alistair and Anora want you present so that the country can see their hero." Lina groaned at his words and tried to sink further into the bed.

"You must be joking. Since when were you close enough to Alistair to make jokes like this?"

"Not joking. You've got the title 'Hero of Ferelden' for life now. It's going to be very hard to disappear for a while." They both frowned at his words, and Lina cocked her head to the side with a wince.

"Disappear?"

"If we return to the clan. The entirety of Ferelden already know what you look like, what you've done. We won't be able to go back to the clan straight away." Lina could tell by the look of disappointment on his face that he had wanted to return as quickly as possible, and she shared the frustration. She just wanted to go _home_, she had done for the final few months of their campaign.

"We'll find a way." She gave his hand a tight squeeze and pulled him towards her. Tamlen understood the gesture and gently shifted her across the bed, before he lay down himself and propped himself up on one elbow. He kept watch over her as she drifted off into her first dreamless sleep in over a year.

* * *

"Ladies and gentlemen…" Lina fought to keep herself awake as Alistair gave his speech on her survival to those gathered in the courtroom. Alistair's speech was in no way _boring_, but the elven woman had only tried walking the day before, and still found herself exhausted if she stood up for too long. Wynne assured her it was simply because of her injuries, and Lina felt it within herself that she would recuperate quickly enough. Standing in the hot, stuffy throne room, however, with aching limbs and only her husband's arm around her to keep her upright, was pushing her limits.

Tamlen's arm around her waist tightened, and Lina zoned back in just in time to realise Alistair was asking what boon she wanted. She and Tamlen had discussed the possibility of a boon the night before and, after arguing her point for hours, they had come up with an idea.

"I ask only that my people, the Dalish, be given land, Your Majesty." Lina gave a respectful nod of her head, feeling like an idiot whilst doing so, and felt her aching neck protest at the action. It was all she could do to not lean against Tamlen in order to take the weight off her shaky legs, but they were standing –in the eyes of those gathered- scandalously close enough without her turning him into her full-time crutch. She was feeling a growing sense of shame at being unable to hold herself up properly.

"Very well. Let it be known that from now on the ruins of Ostagar and all of the lands within its holding are now the property of the Dalish elves. There they can stay, and they are not to be disturbed by the arlings surrounding them. I would also like it to be known that the Grey Warden's now own the Arling of Amaranthine, the former home of Arl Howe. There they can rebuild and follow the example of those who came before them." Alistair addressed the room with a confidence Lina hadn't seen in him before. Sensing that their king had finished speaking, those gathered started to disperse into their own little groups. Alistair gave Lina a grin and quietened his voice.

"So, what do you two have planned? Will you be staying in Denerim?" At the question Tamlen scoffed quietly, but Lina only smiled sadly.

"No. We're returning to the Clan, where we belong. It will be nice to have life return to normal, though I wonder how long that will last."

"I'm wondering the same thing. I'm expecting the wardens to be hiding in my wardrobe, ready to pounce on me as I change." Alistair's voice held the joking tone that Lina had come to associate with him, but the sad smile on his face betrayed his feelings. If they went back to the clan, it was highly unlikely that she and Tamlen would ever see their companions again. "Before you go, there's a crowd of citizens outside waiting to see you. I wouldn't keep them waiting." With a wink, he was whisked off by Arl Eamon, and Lina was left standing with Tamlen.

"Hopefully we won't have to stay here too long." Lina muttered under her breath, loud enough for only Tamlen to hear. He gave a laugh and let go of her waist, letting the elf stand on her own. Lina was surprised to realise that she could at least stand properly, and wondered if Wynne had cast a discrete spell.

"Yes, well, either way I'm still scouting out the quickest exit in case you ever feel the need to up and flee." There was a small smile to his lips as he spoke but, before Lina could ask, he spoke up again. "I'm surprised you haven't noticed your visitor yet Lina, I thought _you _were supposed to be the observant one."

Lina narrowed her eyes in confusion, but when she looked up at Tamlen and saw that his attention was not on her, she followed his gaze across the room. Her eyes quickly locked onto the elf huddled away in a small corner just off the podium, below the balcony. The elf was looking around nervously, clearly unused to being in such close proximity to humans. But, despite the usually proud stature of the elf having being replaced with the slightly fearful one, Lina recognised all too well the white streaked hair and the caring face of her adoptive mother.

"Ashalle…"

"She's been waiting all day to see you. Go talk to her." Tamlen nudged her carefully, hoping to give her the courage to believe that she could walk over on her own. Lina looked at him searchingly, and at finding nothing but his own confidence she pulled away from him completely and started to make her way over.

Lina almost stumbled down the steps, but caught her balance in time to avoid a meeting with the floor. Realising that apart from her achy limbs she could limp relatively well, she moved faster, desperate to see Ashalle. The woman looked up at the sound of Lina's heeled boots on the floor. A smile lit up her face, and she held her arms out in greeting as her eyes took in Lina's gaunter frame.

"Oh, Da'len, you've lost so much weight." Ashalle clucked her tongue as she enveloped Lina in her arms, but Lina ignored the question in favour of burying her head in Ashalle's shoulder.

"How have you been, Ashalle?" Her voice was muffled slightly by the older elf's shoulder, but Ashalle understood the question and tightened her embrace.

"I have been fine, my dear. It is I who should be asking you that question. Look how thin you are! Have you not been eating since the victory?" Ashalle's voice was laced with a motherly concern that Lina had been aching to hear since she had left the clan, and she only tightened her hold before letting go.

"I've missed you so much." Lina held Ashalle's hands in her own, the woman's grip was strong and Lina felt she could stand properly if she held on.

"I have missed you too, my dear. The clan mourned for you and Tamlen when we heard the news from Ostagar. But the keeper, she was so overjoyed when she heard of your victory! She cannot wait to tell the other clans! It is a happy day for us indeed, Da'len. That one of our own defeated the Archdemon is incredible news, and you have obtained _land _for us! I could build a _house_." The woman looked alarmed and enthusiastic and _happy _all at the same time, and Lina could practically feel the happiness exuding from her.

"I am sorry that you heard the report, Ashalle. Is the clan camped outside the city? Why is Tamlen's father missing the coronation?" Lina was curious and suspicious and, when Ashalle averted her gaze for a moment, she knew something was wrong.

"What has happened?"

"I meant to tell the lad myself yesterday afternoon, but he was so joyful that you were awake and walking that I could not bring myself to do it. Perhaps you would be best to let him know. Tamlen's father, he fell ill a few weeks ago with a disease of the lungs, and we are doubtful that he will hang on much longer." Ashalle grew visibly upset as she spoke; Lina knew that she had been close to Tamlen's father in his later years, when the possibility of a romance between their children had seemed likely.

"I see. I'll tell him later, when there is no one to overhear." Lina averted her eyes quickly to glance over at Tamlen: he was stood with Fenarel and Zevran, laughing at something they had said. He looked up to meet Lina's brief gaze and grinned, and Lina smiled sadly back knowing the news she would now have to deliver.

"It is sad news, my dear, but not something that should be dwelled on. We have learned to embrace tragedy." Ashalle gave a grim smile before brightening up. "And alas, you have not told me _your _news either! Did you think I would not find out?"

Lina looked at the older woman in confusion, before Ashalle pulled her left hand closer to her and twirled the gold band on her finger.

"This, my dear. You didn't write to let me know that you had bonded to Tamlen! I had to find out from him yesterday when I overheard him asking Zathrian if the bond could be repaired!" At Ashalle's words Lina blushed pink from shame, not at her bond but at the very fact that she had failed to tell the woman who raised her.

"I apologise, Ashalle. It happened so quickly, and we were desperate to bond as quickly as possible that _telling _anyone completely slipped my mind."

"I understand, my dear. Marethari and I were so pleased to hear the news! Marethari feels she can repair your bond to Tamlen with a simple spell, so you had needn't worry about that. And may I say, dear, _finally._ You have no idea how long I have waited to hear this news! It was always my hope that you and the boy would someday wed! Will you be coming back to the clan with me once this event is over?"

At her question Lina looked around the hall, knowing before she looked at everyone that nothing was holding her here. Her companions would scatter to the four winds; only Tamlen would follow her no matter where her choice would lead. And, fortunately for her husband, she was just as eager to return to their clan as he. With a wide smile Lina hugged Ashalle once more, holding her tightly.

"Without a doubt, Ashalle."

* * *

**A/N:** Jesus effin Christ, I had this chapter started when I went to uni and only now have I finished this chapter, five weeks into Michaelmas term. It's still 36 chapters though! I've erased the epilogue that followed this; I'm unlikely to return to Awakening, however I _may _try and re-write A Twist of Fate and then republish it, and pray that it doesn't turn out as long as this was! Or I might just do A Twist of Fate in six or seven chapters that cover the main plot points, I'm not sure yet. Either way, Awakening doesn't look like it's on the map for now. Again, I'd like to thank everyone who read this story the first time round, and I apologise to those who found it at the various stages of the rewrite! I'll post a chapter up now detailing the differences from the original, and just to let old readers know it's been rewritten. So long!


	37. Meddling has been Rewritten

Hey! False alarm if you thought this was another chapter, I'm sad to say it isn't! For those of you who weren't aware, **Meddling has been rewritten**. All of it. Took me two years, but it's finally done.

Bad side of that is, since I've rewritten it over a space of two years, the earlier chapters are invariably not as great as the later ones. I think anything after 18 was done in the last six months, and they're the ones I prefer. But they're all better than they were originally. I wrote down all the changes I made through the chapters, but the main one you'll find is that the overtones of romance are definitely more obvious than before.

There are still, and probably will be, grammar problems and slight spelling mistakes since most of it was rewritten on my ipad, and those of you who have an ipad will know how apple _loves _to correct words that aren't even spelt wrong the first time around!

Okay, so, major differences:

Chapter 2: the jagged tense changes have been fixed, so they should be gone completely. Hopefully.  
Chapter 5: I've gotten rid of most of the pointless crap in that chapter, I think I cut it down by about 1000 words.  
Chapter 9: _Big _change to the dream sequence here. I felt the initial dream sequence I had wrote was still a bit impersonal, so I rewrote that full scene.  
Chapter 12/13: Got rid of a lot of the childishness. It was making me wince.  
Chapter 15: Romance starts to get interlaced into the story from here on in.  
Chapter 17: Rather than Ashalle appear to both, Tamlen gets his own vision in the gauntlet.  
Chapter 19: Fight fight fight!

After these there's just big changes in all the chapters that are too numerous to really detail them here, but you'll definitely notice it. Leliana's tale in 29 has changed, Fenarel's conversation with Tamlen has updated detail of Merrill in 30. Chapter 34 is my favourite in terms of rewrites; I changed the whole confrontation with Morrigan into something a lot more emotional.

Thank you to everyone who had read this story the first time around, and thank you to everyone who has read it through the years since it was first published! And to those who started reading this at the various stages of it's rewrite, I do apologise for the shift in quality!


End file.
