Because there really isn't enough Mahariel in the world. At all.

The sun was shining, the birds chirping, and the elf was scowling. Again. In fact, Alistair wasn't sure she'd done anything but since she and Duncan arrived at Ostagar.

'No wait,' the ex-Templar thought wryly, 'the Quartermaster. The look she gave him was definitely more of a snarl.'

And now she was scowling at him.

Could elves read minds? He didn't think so, but there was a lot he didn't know. The Dalish may as well have been from the Anderfals for all he knew about them.

He sent a hurried apologetic thought to the woman, just in case.

The scowl deepened, and Alistair resisted the urge to gulp. Rule number one of dealing with wild animals: Don't show fear. ...Or get between a mother and her cub. Or in front of food. And it was never a good idea to antagonize one, which he was probably doing right now.

He really hoped she couldn't read his mind, because he had a pretty good feeling that she wouldn't appreciate being called a wild animal. And by 'wouldn't appreciate', Alistair meant 'wouldn't waste a moment pointing one, or both, of her curved blades in his face. Or somewhere... else. He shuddered.

"Alistair?"

By the Maker! She couldn't send thoughts, could she? If she could, why in a masculine voice that sounded suspiciously like Duncan... oh.

"Yes?" Alistair replied, out loud this time.

Duncan looked tired. "I asked if you understood. You're going to be leading these three into the Wilds. I need you paying attention."

"Sorry Duncan. I won't happen again." Or, he hoped it wouldn't. He was ashamed enough about the mage thing earlier, even though he hadn't meant offense. Really.

Duncan gave a tiny smile, perceptible only to those who knew him well enough, as if he knew it would happen again and again, and probably a fourth time for good measure.

The elf, however, was decidedly not amused. "Can we get this over with?"

Duncan swiftly returned to Commander mode. "Very well. Alistair, a word, if I may?"

The Dalish woman scoffed, but followed Daveth and Jory out of immediate earshot.

Alistair looked to Duncan, who was watching the elf carefully. Finally, Duncan turned to face him.

"Be careful with her, Alistair."

"What do you mean?"

The older man sighed. "When I found her, she was already infected with the Taint."

"Oh."

The surprise ebbed. It made sense. Alistair hadn't met many elves, and none of those had been Dalish, but he was positive her pallor skin was not a natural occurrence, especially for a people who spent their entire lives outdoors. It also explained the sharp edge to her voice. The Taint, left unchecked, was not a pleasant experience. It was painful and left your insides feeling like they were aflame. Alistair felt a strong measure of respect for the woman for fighting it. Conquering the Taint wasn't for the will-less, after all.

Duncan continued. "I don't think that will be a problem. Not yet, anyway. But she is like a wounded deer, and will run if cornered."

Alistair nodded and committed the obscure advice to memory. With a wave to Duncan, Alistair sped off to join his potential fellow Grey Wardens.

xxx

It was hours later, the vials had been collected, treaties obtained, and Duncan had decided that the Ritual would commence tomorrow morning. Alistair was glad that Duncan did not seem to mind the delay. He didn't want to disappoint the man for a third time that day.

Working with the elf had been... interesting. She still refused to tell her name, vehemently snarling that he might as well call her 'Elf' as the rest of the camp seemed wont to do. Alistair supposed he could ask Duncan, but that felt like cheating, and Alistair had a moral code enough to discourage cheating, at least. So, the elf remained nameless.

It was also during their venture into the Wilds that Alistair decided that she didn't remind him of a wounded deer. Well, not predominantly. Instead, he saw a wolf when he looked at her. It was the way she moved, stalked really, and in the tension and wariness in her body when around Davith, Jory and himself, always watching them intently, as if waiting for an attack. It was also in her attack. She kept to the outer edge of the fray, picking off individuals or pairs. There was also the cry she gave when jumping into battle, a feral howl, and when combined with the ferociousness of her attack, the calculated and expert control of her blades, she made a fearful sight.

However, Alistair got the distinct feeling that this savageness was just a cover-up for what she felt was weakness. Not all of it was fabricated, of course. One glance at the woman midst battle was enough to convince Alistair of that. However, she was sick and probably felt like her insides were on fire. She was also far away from her home, and from the limited discussion Duncan had provided of the event, Alistair got the feeling that her leaving had been a traumatic one. And now she was surrounded by the very people she hated and probably feared. Alistair supposed he couldn't condemn her behaviour, even if she frightened him sometimes.

This meant he was left with a proud, frightened, injured, and cornered wolf that has been separated from her pack. Considering the other two recruits, and his own tendency to annoy, Alistair was a little surprised any of them were still in one relatively unharmed piece.

But he wasn't going to worry about that now. By tomorrow afternoon, he may not have to worry about it at all. That thought left a sick feeling in his stomach, and he remembered his own joining as his hand moved of it's own volition to clutch the pendant of Darkspawn blood hanging limply from his throat. However, the moment passed. He was a man, and a Grey Warden at that, and a little nausea couldn't dissipate his appetite.

So he made his way to Gavin, a Warden who had become an unofficial cook for the Order. Alistair liked Gavin, and not just because he supplied the food. Gavin was a good-natured man who had joined because he wanted to help the world. Even after learning the consequences of being a Warden, namely the early grave, he had maintained his good humour.

Gavin chuckled when Alistair approached the tent.

"Wondered when you were going to show up. I missed you this afternoon."

A faint blush rose to Alistair's cheeks as he processed the faint dig at his appetite. He would be glad when the recruits officially joined tomorrow and there would be someone to take the heat off of him, or at least be able to share it.

Still, Alistair was unable to keep the pride out of his voice as he said, "Duncan assigned me to take the recruits into the Wilds."

Gavin laughed. "So, you spent the day sloshing around in the swamp with the newbies, eh? Bet you worked up quite an appetite."

It was not a barb, not even a veiled one. Taking responsibility of the recruits was a big job, even without an imminent war on the Wardens' doorstep, and both knew it. So, Alistair grinned at the man.

Gavin handed him a bowl of stew and leaned over the table.

"So, is it true that Duncan recruited a Dalish elf?"

"Hmmm?"

Alistair was only half paying attention. There was a large chunk of cheese sitting on the opposite end of the table and it was calling out to him.

Gavin followed Alistair's gaze and chuckled once more. Wrapping some bread and cheese in a soft cloth, Gavin handed the parcel to the younger Warden. As soon as Alistair's attention had fully returned to him, Gavin pressed the question again.

Alistair frowned. "Haven't you seen her?"

Gavin shook his head. "Wouldn't ask if I had."

"But hasn't she come for food?"

"If she has, it wasn't here. Maybe she eats with the rest of the elves?"

That didn't sound right. Half of the scowls he'd seen her give were directed at the other elves at the camp. He doubted she would have dined with them. And the King's and Loghain's company wasn't an option...

Maker's breath! She hadn't eaten her entire time at Ostagar, had she? That raised the question: if he had been facing a proud, frightened, injured, hungry, and cornered wolf who'd been separated from her pack, how was he still breathing? Andraste must have an odd sense of humour.

Okay, she hadn't eaten. But why not? Because humans had made it? No, Duncan hadn't mentioned anything, and it wasn't as if dinner was hard to obtain. Gavin could spot a Warden in a crowd, and Alistair knew he'd be polite. Perhaps she was scared?

That might be it.

Realizing Gavin's earlier question still needed an answer, Alistair spoke quickly. "She's well, you'd have to meet her. I'm actually on my way over there. Do you mind if I take her dinner as well?"

Gavin didn't mind, and within minutes, Alistair was crossing the stone bridge, trying to balance two very hot bowls of stew and two parcels of bread and cheese. He'd seen the elf make her way in this direction last night and figured she'd decided to camp as far away from the others as possible.

With only minor spillage, Alistair had crossed the bridge. He hoped she was close. His fingers were burning.

She wasn't close, but was visible. Promising a cold bath for his poor hands later, he walked as quickly as he could to her position.

She looked up sharply as he neared her presence and watched his approach warily.

"I come bearing food." As if to prove his point, Alistair raised the bowls slightly. Of course, at that moment, one of the bread parcels slipped slightly. It stopped at his elbow, but was likely to fall very soon.

Taking her lack of vocal dissent as consent to his presence, and because he couldn't hold everything anymore, and saving cheese was worth the risk of her wrath, he sat down in front of her.

"What do you want?"

"I brought food." He pointed to the stew.

She continued to stare balefully at him, so he elaborated. "It's for you, too."

"I don't want it."

"You-you don't want it? This isn't some suicidal thing, is it? Being a Grey Warden isn't so bad, you know."

She glared at him, and he mostly resisted the urge to flinch.

"No? Okay. Pleasedon'thurtme."

It may have been his imagination, but he swore the glare lessened somewhat.

"Look, um, you need to eat. The Joining is difficult enough on a healthy person. Besides, how am I ever supposed to find out your name if you're too weak to tell me? Or do you want to be referred to as 'The New Grey Warden' for the rest of your life?"

The glare had lessened to a scowl now, but she remained unmoving.

"Well, I'm not letting you take that option. I'm going to sit here and talk nonstop until you eat. You could kill me, but do you really want my ghost following you around forever? Because at least now I'll need to eat and sleep and ... relieve myself from time to time. As a ghost, I won't have to do any of those things. I wouldn't even have to breathe. I could just talk all day and night and you'd have no way to stop me, because, well, because I'm dead, and you're not, and short of dying yourself, there'd be nothing you could do. That's not a suggestion, by the way. Dying, I mean. Because, then you're stuck in the afterlife with me. And don't think I wouldn't follow you. Because I would, you killed me after all. Even if you went to the Black City itself, I'd follow, talking the entire time. Nattering, really. Of course, by that time, I may have run out of things to talk about. I do know quite a few songs though. I've been told I'm tone deaf, but you wouldn't mind, right? I could even try some elvish ones. Of course, I won't know the words, but it's the thought that counts, right? This could be fun, actually. No one ever listens to me when I talk. Well, Duncan does, but he's busy most of the day. Then again, if I'm dead, I can't eat cheese. No more cheese? Ever? Wow. You are a cruel, cruel person, you know that? Depriving someone of cheese is... is inhumane! I hope you're guilty. I would be if I-"

She had picked up the bowl. The glare was back, but it was more annoyed than hostile.

"If I eat this, will you shut up?"

He nodded, so she carefully ate a mouthful.

"It's good, isn't it? We're really lucky Gavin joined. Let me tell you, he can do wonders with a pig and the proper seasonings."

She set the bowl down and stared at him.

"What? Too hot?"

"The deal was that I eat if you stop talking."

"Ah. Point taken. I'll shut up now, I promise." To prove his point, he brought a spoonful of stew to his mouth and swallowed it.

The finished the meal in silence. Well, relative silence. There were a few moments when Alistair would forget that he wasn't supposed to be speaking and he'd start to comment on the weather or the duties of a Warden or the stew itself. Her spoon would pause in midair and it'd come back to him, and he would try to pass it off as a cough, sneeze or a 'Mmmmmh'. One time he'd pretended to choke and wasn't too offended when she made no move to save him. It was a pretty dramatic choking, he thought, too dramatic. Plus, a couple of minutes later when he actually had a bit of meat lodged in his throat, she had hit him on the back, forcing the piece to dislodge itself. At the very least she would save him from imminent death- if he wasn't faking it and was within arms' reach.

An awkward silence set in after they had finished the meal. To Alistair, most silences were awkward. He didn't like silence. It brought back memories of the Chantry and of loneliness. Mind-numbing loneliness and had overtaken much of his younger years.

She broke it before he could.

"You may call me Ellina."

Alistair smiled widely and felt no small sense of victory. Inspired by his success, he asked the question that had been plaguing him.

"So, why haven't you eaten?"

For a moment, Alistair was worried that he'd pushed his luck and she'd revert back to scowling.

The moment passed and she spoke. The sentences were broken, as if difficult for her to say, but it was an answer.

"I have spent my entire life in the forest with my clan. The one experience I have with a shem village was... not a proper learning opportunity. I was not sure how meals worked with shemlen villages and was not about to ask."

It was the most he had heard out of her at once, and Alistair was smart enough not to comment on her lack of knowledge. You don't antagonize the wild animal, after all. He knew the surprise showed on his face, but he held his tongue, and forced back the many smart comments that had spawned the instant she said she didn't know how. She seemed to expect a taunt and clenched her mouth tightly in anticipation, lips forming a very tight line.

This was one time Alistair was glad to disappoint. He fixed a sloppy grin to his face and stood up after collecting their dishes.

"Well, I suppose that makes sense. But, you're in luck. I was just about to show my friend Bob around. See he's spent most of his life as a bug, mage's curse I hear, and is considering becoming a human again. Odd, I know. But, he's not too sure yet. Said it's been too many years and things have changed. So I said I'd give him a tour around Ostagar and show him everything an outsider would need to know about living on the inside. You're welcome to tag along. Perhaps offer some advice?"

Ellina was still staring at him, confusion clouding her features.

"You are a very strange human," she said finally.

He had to laugh at that. But, she accepted his offer. If any of the others at Ostagar thought it odd that a Grey Warden was wandering around, explaining the system of trading and bartering, where to find clean water, appropriate places to relieve certain bodily functions (he flushed scarlet at this point, but it was important, so he spat it out with as much dignity as he could muster) and other aspects of everyday life, no one commented on it.

Much of it Ellina knew or had figured out already, but she didn't seem to take too much offense to his explanations. The tour took the rest of the daylight hours and lasted well into the night. When the pair parted ways, the stars were twinkling, the birds were asleep, and the elf wasn't scowling so much anymore.

Just a one-shot dealing with some aspects you couldn't really express in the game. Please let me know what you think.