Authors Note: This is one of my Origins stories. The reason I am writing this is mostly because there were certain situations and conversations in the game that I thought should have been more pronounced or expanded upon. So here is me, filling in what I saw as missing pieces.

The forest seemed to hold its breath as it always did in such moments. Lyra Mahariel sighted down the arrow at the tawny hide of the deer. She waited. It was no good just wounding the animal. She would rather wait hours for a clean kill than shoot wildly and cause the animal undue pain. That was not the elven way.

There was a distant twang of a bowstring. The deer leapt straight up, twisted in mid-air and bolted for the other side of the clearing. Oh, Hells, she thought, and took off after it. She could see the arrow sticking out of its flank, and blood oozing from the wound. It didn't seem to be slowing him down any but fear and pain are wonderful motivators. There was a clearing up ahead, she had to reach the deer before it could gather its speed and be gone. Lyra ran madly through the wood, her wild mass of deep red hair streaming behind her as she hurtled over fallen branches and low bushes. She ran as the deer ran.

On the edge of the clearing the buck stumbled, and almost went over. The leg wasn't working right anymore, and he couldn't seem to get all four legs underneath him. Dagger in hand, she sprang.

She was holding the dying deers head in her lap when the other hunters loped up to her, Tamlen just behind them. Her eyes were closed, her lips moving in a silent prayer for the creatures spirit. The blood of the deer was staining her leathers but she didn't seem to notice. It had been quick work to cut the animals throat. It was the best way. She wouldn't allow herself tears, but her spirit wept, for the deer, and for the stupidity of those who would call themselves hunters.

"I've never seen anyone run so fast in my life, lethallan," one of the hunters panted jovially. "Good thing too. We would never have caught him." Lyra looked up at him and her eyes flashed. It was Palin, the would-be hunter. They had been raised at the same fire, Palin was a few years older than her, and though not blood related, they had been raised as siblings. Recognition flashed over his face as he drew nearer. "Len'alas lath'din," he muttered, not quite under his breath. "What are you doing here?"

"We were hunting these forests today. You knew that," she said quietly. She had never liked Palin, or his friend Fenarel, who seemed to follow him around like a dog. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, like she was dirt or insulted her in elvish when he thought no one could hear him. Maybe it was the way all the younger hunters in the clan looked up to him. In the end it didn't matter, they were clan-mates, but in no way were they friends. Lyra slowly laid the deers head on the blood soaked grass and stood up. "You knew we were hunting these forests today," she repeated, still advancing. "You stole a deer that was rightfully mine by wounding the poor animal to make it run."

"Your deer?" He shrugged as if it didn't matter in the least. "You wouldn't kill it, so I did."

"You killed it?" she said incredulously. She had just outrun a deer, right? Exactly how had he killed it? "I was waiting for a clean kill. Not this!" she spread her hands toward the deer, its coat still flecked from the sweat of pain and fear. "I don't loose an arrow wildly in the hopes that it hits something. I am a hunter." She was advancing on Palin now. Tamlen could see the rage building within her.

"Don't do anything foolish," Tamlen said, eying the group warily.

Palin spun towards him. "Don't you-"

"I wasn't talking to you." The two hunters glared at one another. The other young hunters saw Palin of something of a hero. The youngest hunter to ever slay a wolf. No mention was made of how old the wolf was, or that it had been caught in a pit trap for days and would have died soon anyway. But Palin had returned to camp carrying the dead wolf. So, he was the hero. Tamlen knew all this but he had said nothing. The clan needed heroes. It was just infinitely depressing that Palin was the best they could come up with.

Lyra wasn't going for her daggers but Tamlen knew she could do just as much damage without them when she was in a rage. "Lyra..." he warned but she shrugged him off.

"I don't know why you hate me, Palin. And I care even less," she continued, her voice low and cold as ice. "You are arrogant, barbaric, and ignorant of all that is Dalish. You are the worst insult to the Elvhen. Halam sahlin, Palin"

"Look here you little whelp..." he spat the word as if it were a curse.

And she hit him.

Several hours later the four of them were standing in front of Keeper Marethari, each looking shamefaced, though Lyra could see Palin smirking at her when the Keepers back was turned.

"Abelas," the Keeper sighed, her voice sounding frail and ancient with a hint of sadness. "It is a sad day indeed when the Children of the Clan make war upon one another." She turned to look at the group and her voice hardened. "I am told you four were brawling. Palin? You say you were simply hunting in the forest when these two attacked you, without provocation?"

"Yes, Keeper," Palin said, bowing slightly. "We had just killed a deer when-" Keeper Marethari held up a hand, stopping him in mid sentence.

"And you?" she said, looking intensely at Lyra and Tamlen. "What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Before Lyra could say anything Tamlen stepped forward. "It was my fault, Keeper."

"Oh? Go on."

"I hid among the trees and attacked them as they passed by. It was meant to be a joke but it just got out of hand. Lyra wasn't involved," he said hurriedly when the Keeper turned towards her. "In fact, she was trying to get us to stop fighting."

The Keepers eyes widened, "Really? We should all be so lucky as to experience such a change of character. Until now I had been sure it was Lyra herself who started all this, though I was sure she had been provoked." She stared hard at Palin as she said this. There was a lengthy silence in which not one of the four hunters moved, each one trying not to flinch under the intensity of the Keepers gaze. When the silence had held for a fraction longer than Tamlen thought was strictly necessary, the Keeper sighed and waved them away. "Very well, you may go. Tamlen? Stay."

Palin and Fenarel left, openly grinning now. What are you grinning at? Tamlen thought. You didn't get away with anything. I just saved your hides. Tamlen realized he was scowling when he felt Lyras hand gently touch his arm before she too left. It was all the thanks he needed.

Keeper Marethari waited until she was sure they were alone, then she sighed heavily. "I know Lyra is responsible for this, Tamlen."

Tamlen managed to sound truly shocked. "No, Keeper. I started the fight. Lyra wasn't even-"

The Keeper held up her hand. "Be silent, da'len, and listen for once. Lyra and Palin have been crosswise with each other since they were children. It is not the first time this has happened and I doubt it will be the last. Who do you think you are protecting?"

"No one, Keeper."

"You are trying my patience, and there is little enough of it left. Palin with be First among our hunters one day and I can not have our two best hunters fighting one another. Now, tell me what really happened in the forest, then I can decide what is necessary."

For an instant Tamlen was torn. He could tell the Keeper everything. About the deer, the wolf. The things Palin had said and done and thought no one knew about. But no. He wasn't a tale-teller. Better he just take whatever came.

"It is as I said, Keeper. I attacked them, a foolish prank that got out of hand."

Marethari sighed in perpetual frustration. "Very well, Tamlen. What do you propose I do with you?"

Tamlen thought for a moment. "You could just let me off with a warning?" Marethari's expression hardened. "But now that I think about it you usually send me to run errands for Merrill."

"And do you enjoy picking herbs and learning the ways of a healer?"

"Not really, Keeper. I'd really rather be hunting."

"Good. Go see what herbs Merrill requires for her potions." Tamlen sighed dramatically, though he knew it was coming, still it was better than it could have been. "Do try to stay out of trouble, da'len, and for the Creators sake and that of my patience, stay away from Palin," the Keeper called after him as he headed off to find Merrill.

He hadn't gone far before Lyra caught up with him. She had changed out of her blood stained hunting leathers into a light cloth dress. It was the only thing she had of her mothers and now it fit her perfectly. "Hey," she said cautiously, falling in step with him.

"Hey yourself." He tried to maintain his stoic expression as he turned his gaze to meet hers, and failed.

Both their faces broke into broad smiles and she took his hand.

"Come on," she said, leading him off the path into the trees that lined the edge of the camp. He let himself be led, watching the way she moved, the way her wild dark hair caught the sunlight and suddenly flashed deep red. When had she grown up? He wondered. They had known each other all their lives. The elders said they could have been twins they were so inseparable. He had watched her grow and change and he had done the same. But when had she become this beautiful woman? Wasn't it just yesterday they had been catching frogs in a mud bog and pelting each other with dirt? But suddenly they weren't children anymore. He was taller than her now, more muscular, but she was lean and agile. Every movement had purpose, she wasted nothing, and nothing was wasted on her either. He watched her flowing body moving gracefully through the trees. Her legs, long and slender but strong like the halla, her compact body, firm and toned, the fabric of the dress clinging to her skin in the soft breeze. Her clan tattoos, the vallaslin, flowed across her shoulders and down her back before disappearing beneath the cloth. He wondered idly if they covered her whole body

She turned round and smiled at him, and the way the light danced in her eyes took his breath away. "Having fun back there?" she said and jokingly elbowed him in the ribs.

"Just enjoying the view," he chuckled.

"You're not so bad yourself. Even with a black eye," she laughed.

"Thanks, I'd almost forgotten," he muttered touching the slightly swollen eye. "Fenarel just got in a lucky hit. How come you never get hit by the way? For all the scraps we get into you never have a mark on you." Tamlen let his eyes roam over her perfect skin.

"The reason I don't get hit," she said pointedly, poking a finger into his chest, "is because I... duck!" She spun away laughing and began loping through the forest, daring him to chase her, which he did. How could he not? He had been chasing Lyra Mahariel his entire life.

She had let him catch her eventually, she always did. And they had laughed about it as they walked further away from the camp. The forest had opened up into wide meadows and rolling hillsides. The setting sun was painting her oranges, pinks, and purples on the sky above and Lyra sat down in the tall grass to watch. Tamlen sat down beside her and without a word she sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. He wished this moment could last forever. He would always have the memory of it though. He could wrap it up and take it with him so later on he could take it out and remember what it was like to have everything he could ever want.

"So what did Keeper Marathari say?" she said at last, lifting her gaze to meet his.

"Oh, just a couple days helping Merrill gather herbs. And I'm supposed to stay away from Palin," he snorted. "I think that's just about everyone in camp I'm supposed to stay away from now. Some of them twice." He grinned at her. "Sometimes I think I should just tell the Keeper the truth. That its YOU that gets me into all this trouble."

"So why don't you?" Lyra's voice was so quiet he almost missed it. He looked at her, usure if she had actually spoken. She was staring into her lap, she had taken out the small deer he had carved for her and was caressing it gently. "Why dont you tell the Keeper? Why didn't you tell her what happened in the forest? That I started the fight?"

"Oh right. So I tell the Keeper I'm innocent of everything, its all Lyra's fault?" They were silent for a long time, then "It is you're fault, you know." He was grinning at her again.

She punched him playfully in the arm and he laughed. "Sometimes I think you do it just so you get to spend more time with Merrill," she teased.

"Jealous?"

"Who am I to say who you should spend your time with?" she said in a slightly pouty voice as she jumped to her feet and started heading back toward camp. He jumped up and caught her arm before she could spin away once more, and pulled her close.

"And what if I want to spend it with you?" Tamlen said in a low voice. "Ma emma sa'lath," he breathed. You are my one love. Their faces were inches apart, he could feel her breath on his skin, the feel of her body so close to him. Lyra felt it too, the closeness, the spark of something that was way beyond friendship. He had been with her all her life, trying to protect her from everyone and everything, even from herself. Somehow he took the rest of the world away and replaced it with something better. Looking up into his smoldering eyes, feeling his arms around her, she closed her eyes.

"Lyra! Lyra Mahariel, you come back to camp. Come now, da'len, its getting dark." The voice carried over the hills, shattering her perfect moment.

"That would be Ashalle," she sighed. "You would think eventually she would stop trying to mother me."

Tamlen's gaze held hers for a long while before he finally found his voice. "We should probably get back anyway," he cleared his throat. "The Keepers probably already sent out the search party when I didn't go straight to see Merrill. And as for Ashalle, you know she's just trying to look out for you. Make sure you don't go getting into trouble."

"What, like you?"

"You're fault," he said grinning. She hit him again and stuck out her tongue. "Oh, yeah very mature."

"Shut up."

"Lyra!" the voice came again.

"I'm coming," Lyra called back, trying to keep the edge of frustration out of her voice. She turned to Tamlen. "Shall we?" she said, and headed off back up the hill. Tamlen took a few moments to pick some random herbs and wildflowers for Merrill's study, but more as an effort to get some composure before jogging after her.

*Dalish phrases adapted from Dragon Age Wiki