It may not always be so

And I say that if your lips

Which I have loved

Should touch another's

And your dear strong fingers clutch her heart

As mine in a time not far away

If on another's face your sweet hair lay

In such a silence as I know

Or such great writhing words as, uttering overmuch

Stand helplessly before the spirit at bay

If this should be, I say if this should be

You of my heart, send me a little word

Then I may go unto her, and take her hands saying

Accept all happiness from me

Then shall I turn my face

And hear one bird sing terribly afar in the distance

-Sonnets/ UnrealitiesXI

Bjork

AN: This story takes place two years before Maric dies. Also, I took some lyrics from yet another song I catch myself listening to a lot when I write, Pagan Poetry by Bjork. This is just a very short prologue, and a much larger chapter will follow.

Maric was not at all surprised when Duncan came to him about a developing situation in the Brecilian Woods. Normally, it wasn't the place of the Grey Wardens to interfere in Dalish-Chasind problems, and coincidentally, the Fereldan government didn't care much either. For the Grey Wardens, it was a special case.

A woman who had been a Grey Warden for nearly fifteen years had rushed off from Orzammar without a second thought when she heard of the struggle between a certain Dalish Clan and the Chasind in the area. She had personal ties with the Elves in question, ties that Duncan refused to flesh out, and she had not been seen by anyone since she left several weeks ago.

He approached Maric with this for more than one reason. Certainly, the King had been looking for an excuse to get out of Denerim. As time went on, he felt less and less inclined to visit the Banns and the Arls, or even the Teyrns. It was clear that he had that inconsolable itch to go out and have another adventure. Duncan's plea for aid was just the cure.

Maric brought only one other person with him, and that was Loghain. The problem was taking place in his Teyrnir after all, even if the Woods were generally left alone. No one questioned his decision, but everyone knew it was an escape.

This time, I'm going to keep it all to myself. She loves him. She loves him, and he makes me want to hurt myself again.

The soft hum in the air was all that could give the Grey Warden away in the woods. Her red dress that she wore beneath her eight-panel breastplate had been traded out for a dull green one. Her hair had been braided intricately by the Elven children she had come to protect. All kinds of beads and flowers and leaves dangled from the ends, and the noise that arose blended with that of the forest she wandered.

She kept her eyes on the passage, very sure that someone would come after her sudden disappearance. She passed tree after tree, swaying to the tune in her head. Some dead part of her came back to life in those woods, but it was not a good feeling for that life to spring up. Part of her had come to hate it, but there she was, giving in to the kind of spirit that the Woods put in a woman.

She had seen several Chasind since she began her wanderings, and all had ushered their children quickly away. These were not the hostiles that had came after Vaylen's Clan. Then again, they might have simply thought her to be a Witch of the Wilds. The thought amused her and raised a chuckle out of her throat.

It had been nearly a month since she laughed right, and she had been drunk then. Maybe that was why she missed Oghren and Branka… Best damn dwarves in all of Orzammar, and the greatest couple to go drinking with. If she missed anything when she was in those woods, it was them.

"I'm sure she's waiting for us, your Majesty. Alys has a knack for being where she's needed…"

That was Duncan's voice. She knew it well enough, and gathered up her dress to follow it in haste.

"So that's her name. I guess since our conversation well has long gone dry, I've got nothing better to do than ask you about her further…"

"She is a mage, and was conscripted very young. She was only fifteen, and for whatever reason was going to be made tranquil. The man that conscripted her did so to preserve her power. I am told that the Templars believed she was a corrupting influence on the youngest 'protectors' of the Circle…"

Alys, as she was called, caught sight of them from behind the trees, and crouched low for a moment to get a look at those that Duncan had brought with him. She was surprised to immediately recognize King Maric. He walked just beside Maric, and the man walking behind them must have been Loghain Mac Tir. Who else would the King trust to bring with him?

"She spent five years of her time as a Grey Warden continuing her training.. And the rest split evenly between service in Orzammar and recreation here.."

She thought him handsome for the kind of war he had to go through. She knew as well as any seasoned warrior that battle left scars on the skin and in the heart. Sometimes what got to your heart came through in your face, or in your physical appearance period. She had started becoming worried about Grey Hairs in her dark brown hair after she started going into the Deep Roads for a nice day of Darkspawn hunting.

But none of that mattered now. She decided to come through some of the trees, and with a soft laugh, gathered the attention of the travelers.

"You make good time, Duncan. I was beginning to wonder if you would ever show up."

All three of them looked up at her, and as she began to descend down the slope, Duncan could not help but regard her with a slight sense of reminiscence. It had been several years since he had seen her so decorated and so camouflaged. However, she was so different now. Her laugh sounded a little less full of life, and her smiles a little less glowing. The woods made her vibrant, but sucked the life from her all the while.

"I am told that this situation must be handled as quickly as possible so that you might return to your post in Orzammar."

Grey Warden addressed Grey Warden until finally Alys was level with all three.

"I see that you brought very distinguished guests, and I am honestly surprised with that. It is an honor to meet you both in person, King Maric, Teryn Loghain," She bowed softly, raising a hand to hold her ornate hair behind her shoulder still.

If not for the plate corset she wore, Loghain would have thought her very fragile. She was small, but clearly agile and well-versed in the ways of these woods. She looked foreign, but natural among all of the greenery.

"It is my pleasure to finally meet the Warden that Duncan has been speaking of so highly since we set out from Denerim. I take it you know the way to the Dalish Camp?" Maric stepped forward, immediately asserting his Kingly authority.

She didn't have a problem with that at all," Of course I do. They usually come to the same place this time of year, in fact. Its usually safer for them, but the Chasind Tribe that has began warring with them moved in the same pattern this year, and it hasn't been pretty."

"How many are dead?" Loghain questioned. If it was truly to be a battle, it might be a good thing to know what they had to work with.

"We have had seventeen Elves fall since I arrived. Women and children included. It is a large Clan, but it is still very sad to see so many die." Alys led them up the shelf of land held only together by tree roots, and continued speaking on things," Vaylen, the Keeper, is an accomplished Archer and very good with a pair of daggers. His wife, and the Spiritual Leader of the Clan, Galadria, is a Healer. She saved as many as she could."

"It sounds like a good match."

"That's what I told them, when I left the last time." Alys mused quietly in response to Loghain's own comment.

Those that followed her to the camp could only wonder just what that might have meant. Duncan was the only one with a decent clue.

Alys knew exactly where to step in the forest without catching herself on a root, or falling through a very loose section of dirt. She tossed out the occasional tip to Duncan, Maric, and Loghain as they passed through. That section of the woods was not like the rest, or at least that is how it felt. It rained regularly and brought with it mudslides that could drastically change the landscape in a single afternoon. Usually, such things were confined to the inner forest, but there were signs of just such an event as they moved closer to the camp.

Perhaps the Dalish Clan in question had moved to such an area in hopes of avoiding the Chasind and the fighting that comes with them.

She was not surprised to see that the Chasind that had been along the route earlier were gone. It made her feel more relaxed, and a bit safer. She caught herself moving a bit fast for those that came behind her from time to time, and each time she stopped to wait on them she found that the movement in the woods had grown very silent. It seemed that not even the wind dared make a sound.

"Hm.. It might rain tonight.." She commented absentmindedly.

At least, that is what she hoped.