Disclaimer: Dragon Age, it's world, and everything to do with it are the property of Bioware, I just have fun playing with it. The characters and situation here are a result of my and my friends' overactive imaginations.

Abandoning the search for his sister even for a short while nagged at him, but no one would talk to an elf. Nethras had found so many promising leads while he had Honovi with him to help, the presence of even a Chasind human enough to gather information, but it had been nearly two weeks since she'd left to warn his clan of an impending attack and he had yet to find anything more. Shemlen... They would speak to each other, they would speak to dwarves, but an elf? Never. He needed Honovi, loathe as he was to admit it, but there were worse people to depend on. She was strange, but at least she was kind. And she'd saved his life. And she didn't care that he was an elf, or covered with brutal scars. Strange woman.

But her cooperation meant other shems would talk to him, and that meant he had to find her again. He knew where she was at least, assuming she hadn't moved on after she'd delivered her warning. Even if she had he knew where to start, and Honovi wasn't exactly inconspicuous dressed pelts and feathers with her pets the hawk and lion. He could find her in the next town if she wasn't in the camp – there would be no catching her in the forest.

Smoke rising from the forest quickened his steps. The battle must have already been and gone – he just hoped the Dalish had won. He'd only been one of them for a matter of months, but he had friends among them. The old hunting master had taught him to shoot personally, and he had to tell the Hahren that his granddaughter was dead. Heart in his throat, Nethras ran through the forest, branches whipping his face, tearing at burns not yet properly healed. Don't let them be dead, please Maker don't let them be dead...

The statue of Fen'Harel appeared seemingly from nowhere and Nethras crashed into it in his haste. Some detached part of his brain noted the pain but it was distant, too far away in his panic to notice and he kept going until he broke into the clearing where the clan was camped. Aravels lay burned, but most were relatively undamaged, and while there were hunters laying on cots there were precious few graves. They must have listened to Honovi then, and won the battle. Nethras sighed in relief. Near everyone still lived and his sadness at those lost was tempered with his joy at seeing so many familiar faces.

"Nethras?" He'd been so caught up in his relief that he hadn't seen the Hahren's approach, and he smiled at the old man's approach. "It seems we were wrong about the shemlen woman."

The old man seemed grieved, and for the second time in as many hours panic and guilt welled up in Nethras' chest. "What do you mean, Hahren?"

His gaze swept across the camp and even before the Hahren answered he saw her. Oh Maker no... Honovi was on her knees, wrists tied over her head to a stake buried in the ground behind her, limp and unmoving. Bereft of pelts and armour, neither her weapons nor her pets anywhere to be seen, she looked so... so small. Even at a painfully average size for a human she usually loomed larger than life, fierce and exotic and strong, looking every inch the warrior as she faced down the world. She couldn't be dead. Not like this, not because she'd wanted to save lives... Not because he'd refused to go with her.

"The clan couldn't risk her causing trouble, and a great many of them believed she'd killed you and the others. You were gone for a very long time, Nethras, and none of your party returned when you intended."

His words only registered enough to make Nethras feel guiltier. He'd come to trust Honovi enough that it hadn't even occurred to him that the clan wouldn't trust her too. All the nights she'd stayed up with him as he screamed in the throes of nightmares about his sister or guided his hands to help him make arrows in the dark. Days spent in searching for his sister even though Honovi had nothing to gain for it. Tending his burns, cutting his noose not a second before he was hanged, chasing away guards and staring down nobles and helping him to hunt and now she wasn't moving... Nethras couldn't even tell if she was breathing or if the wind was simply blowing her shirt.

He hadn't even realized he'd been moving again before he was kneeling in front of her, praying she wasn't dead. "Honovi?" She still didn't move, not even enough to open her eyes, and Nethras thought he might be sick. Maker please... "Honovi wake up!" She still didn't move and Nethras bowed his head.

"They locked Makya and Kachina away."

Had she... She'd spoken! Not moved except to frown, perhaps, but she was definitely alive! "I'll get them," he promised, standing to untie her.

But the moment he'd put his hands to the ropes the hunting master had shouted, striding over and looking furious. Why should he be angry that Nethras was letting an innocent woman go? He turned to face the hunting master, standing protectively between him and Honovi. She was alive – now Nethras meant to keep her that way.

Holy crap I didn't even write the story from my character's POV! Lucky

me my rp partner gave me full control here as long as I kept Nethras in character.

We haven't actually made it this far in the thread, but if you want to see more of

Nethras and Honovi remove the spaces from the link below:

dragon-age . proboards index . cgi