Hello! This is my first Fanfic ever. I'll also like to let everyone know that my native language is Spanish, not English, so… I hope I don't have too much mistakes. This story is a translation of the Spanish version that you can find in my profile as well.

And, finally, I'll like to give a huge THANK YOU to Lady Velvet C. Peterson for her help and support. You're wonderful! ^_^

Hope everyone enjoy it!

Constructive reviews are welcomed! It will help me to improve! :)

Thank you!

P.S: The World and most of the characters belong to Bioware. I have borrowed them to make my own version of the story.

P.S2: This amazing cover page is made by the incredible artist Wendy (prayfortheinquisitor on Tumblr and Hhakeward on Twitter) This iscene is related to a future event that is already written in the spanish version.


"Supplies"

["…she's like nature: cruel, wise, strong, benevolent… she's cold and heat, above and below. But she's also hatred and love."]


"Hahren, I don't understand why I have to go to Gwaren with Fenarel again this week. Can't Tamlen go with him instead?"- I plead - "I need to practice more with the new bow that Master Ilen had carved for me."

"Fenarel is used to negotiating with shems, but I need someone to protect him. Tamlen isn't as skilled and fast with the bow as you are, da'len," - replies Keeper Marethari frowning in disapproval. - "Besides, Tamlen needs to fix the Hallas' Fence. The wolves are getting more and more restless with each passing day. It seems that we are no longer wanted in the Forest."

"…but Keeper…."- I beg.

"Lyna, don't argue with me anymore. Do what I've commanded" -she says sharply- "Find Fenarel and travel to Gwaren immediately. We need some supplies for our trip."

I couldn't hold back a sigh of helplessness that came from my lips- "…Uh! All right… I'll do as you said, but I expect to be more than a mailman from now on. I need to get used to my new bow because if I don't, I'll be as useless as Tamlen with it."- I attempt to tease lightly.

"Da'len!" –

"Yes, yes, I know… ma nuvenin Keeper… I'll go now" - I grumble striding outside the Keeper's caravan. I head over to Master Ilen with a grimace gracing my face barely paying attention to anyone around me.


Lyna Mahariel was a difficult and complicated child, full of energy, vitality, but tremendously undisciplined and stubborn. "She has her mother's blood running through her veins, after all…"- thought the Keeper. Her mother was as passionate as her, until that passion (or maybe it was love…) made her die of pain. Lyna's youth made her more reckless and careless. She felt a great fascination of shemlen that the Keeper couldn't understand completely. She was very cheerful, skilled with the bow and incredibly agile for her 19 years old. She used passion in everything… maybe too much at some times. Certainly, the clan was very proud of her, but she still has a lot to learn. Lyna was strong, determined and she didn't feel fear almost anything or anyone. The members of the clan admired her and some felt certain devotion for her, especially since they witnessed the moment she became officially an adult at an earlier age than normal. I still remembered the ritual: carving the skin of that little girl of barely 13 years old, the Vallaslin honoring the goddess Mythal; a great honor among the dalish since she's considered especially powerful and important for the People. While I tattooed every curve, every figure with great precision and force, Lyna just looked at the sky, with that look in her eyes that she only made when she was fully determined. For 7 long hours, I tattooed her face and, in all that time, Lyna didn't even blink, didn't show any kind of weakness or fear, not a single groan of pain, not a tremor, not even a hint of doubt or hesitation in her eyes. When it was finished, Lyna stood up and turning to look at me, she said, - "Ma serannas, Keeper. I will honor my clan carrying proudly the sacred marks of my people and culture."

After this, she took her bow and went into the woods alone without saying another word. In about 2 hours, she returned with enough wild game for dinner as if nothing had happened. All the clan, especially Tamlen and Fenarel, were left unable to speak for several minutes, just looking at each other's eyes. Some even whispered words of surprise, but what I saw in the eyes of those boys was reverence and surrender to such determination; Lyna will represent the vital power of nature itself, she would become a great member of her clan and by Creator's will, something exceptional that only time will be able to elucidate.

I was so absent in my thoughts, that I didn't hear when Tamlen entered the caravan and touched my shoulder – "Ehm… Keeper?... you wanted to see me?"

"Oh, yes, Tamlen… sorry… I was a little distracted," -I say apologetically.

"It seems that, lately, everyone is distracted, Keeper," -Tamlen sighs- "I just saw Lyna, with a scowl in her face, walking towards master Ilen. I greeted her but she didn't even look at me. I imagine that she's going to train with him, just as she does every day, though I do not get to understand why she is in such a bad mood today."

"That's because she's not going to train today, Tamlen,"- I explain -"I've sent her to Gwaren with Fenarel for supplies and she went to warn Ilen about her departure. She would not be able to train with him for a few days. I think that's why she's in such mood."

"What? With Fenarel? And why with him?" -Tamlen asks tensely.

"Fenarel is used to shemlen cities and typical delusions of these places and Lyna is the best archer and hunter of our clan. Sending different members or more of them would only jeopardize the journey and the whole clan's safety. Two elves call less attention than three, don't you think, Da'len?" - I ask lightly placing a vial of clay in Tamlen's hand -"Now go where Maren is and give her this from me. A Halla is about to give birth and this will help to calm her down."

"B-but ... Keeper, I could go with Lyna too,"- Tamlen pleads - "I'm used to dealing with those dirty shems. What if something bad happened to her? Fenarel could not protect her and also..."

I can't help but to chuckle at the young man -"Da'len, she is able to take care of herself even better than our more experienced warriors,"- I chide lightly- "Are you forgetting that she is Ilen's apprentice, a former member of the Night Elves?"

"... Y-yes Keeper, but ..."- he says nervously while toying with the vial that I had given him.

"You may fool her, you can try to fool yourself, but Da'len ... we both know that jealousy is what it's making you talk right now, not the concern for her safety," - I say gently with a slight smile.

"... Ehm ... I ... no ... Keeper, I do not ... I just worry that something might happen ... that's all ..." -Tamlen stutters quickly. He could not help but feel naked, embarrassed and even nervous about such a statement. Who could he fool? Since he was just a little child, he felt admiration for Lyna, and after all, the clan was really small. Everyone should know by now that he felt something for her, right? At least that was crystalline for the Keeper. He stared at Marethari as she looked at him with that smile that said more than what he hid and could not help it.

"... Ajjj, it's just that I do not trust Fenarel's intentions when they are alone and she constantly share many moments with him. She's always with him! Why not me? Why she avoids me sometimes? We are friends since we were lens ... I thought maybe we could become ... I don't know ... something more than friends ... " -Tamlen blurts suddenly, at that moment he realizes that he sounds like a spoiled shemlen child, claiming something that was not his in any way.

Looking at the Keeper's grim expression at his outburst he quickly apologizes. - "I'm… Sorry Keeper. That was too childish of me."- He looks at the ground embarrassed. Feeling his eyes began to fill with tears, he swallows hard and could hold them so as not to lay bare his feelings again.

"Da'len, I'm sorry that your heart is suffering so much but Lyna has always been a lonely child," -I say looking at Tamlen's saddened face, -"She takes advantage of what life offers her. She is strong and ambitious although she is a member of the clan since birth; she has always been on her own. My advice to you is to try to appease those feelings towards her because if you don't, you would suffer an even greater agony. Lyna's fate is uncertain but it surely will be full of pain, a pain that will affect everyone, especially those who love her."

"W-What are you trying to say, Keeper? That she's going away? That she does not love anyone? I refuse to believe that..."- Tamlen stammers furiously,- "She is the best of us! She loves her clan! She ..."

"Calm down Da'len,"- I interrupt,- "What she'll do is her decision. No one can stop her if she has already decided it. What I'm trying to say is that she's like nature: cruel, wise, strong, benevolent… she's cold and heat, above and below. But she's also hatred and love. She loves her clan, there's no doubt, but in her heart burns something neither you nor I know for sure. One day we will discover what fate has planned for her. Just let's prepare our hearts to assimilate that, maybe in that future we are not there with her, Not you, neither I, nor the clan." -I feel sad for this len. He turned out to be a sweet young man, very predisposed to help everyone. If somewhat insecure and shy, and seeing him like that, so lost, so sad, I cannot help but feel partly responsible for it. But he does not understand that Lyna was ready for something bigger, for something that she herself wasn't able to guess. "Lyna ...There's no doubt that you are the daughter of your parents." –I thought.

Tamlen is shaking. He doesn't know if it is because of the rage induced by the words of the Keeper, or because of the powerlessness of knowing that, what Marethari said, was true; Lyna was unstoppable. Precisely, that thing that could take her away from him and their clan was what he liked most about her. How ironic! Isn't it? He swallows thickly, his voice almost a whisper as if he's afraid saying them too loud would make it more real, - "Keeper ... you're right as always. I've spent so many years thinking of her as something more than a symbol, that I can hardly see her as what she really is, but she's so special that ... that I cannot stand the thought of losing her... ehm ... I mean, that we could lose her. I just hope that that fate will bring her happiness, wherever it takes her." - Despite his resolve a tear slides down his face.

I know very well that feeling and I immediately hug Tamlen trying to comfort him in the midst of the internal conflict that he is fighting in silence.- "Shhh, Tamlen. Ir Abelas, Da'len. Maybe if you try to reconcile those feelings with her, you could finally find peace. She loves you more than you think. Try to open your heart to her. She may surprise you."- Pulling away, I give his shoulder a squeeze, - "Let's not give more attention to this matter right now because you are still finding pain and uncertainty, okay? It's the best for you."

"Ma nuvenin Keeper, you're right. Maybe I'll go and talk to her when she returns from the trip to Gwaren or perhaps before. After all, she's my best friend, what I can lose?" -says Tamlen wiping away the tear that was falling down his cheek, - "Ma serannas Hahren, now I'm going to give this to Maren, as you commanded, and I will be near fixing the Hallas' fence. After the wolves' attack, it has been seriously damaged and I have a lot of work ahead" - He put on a half-hearted smile as he turns to leave the caravan.

"Dareth Shiral, Da'len,"- I reply watching Tamlen leave with that sad smile of resignation on his face. He will have to learn how to heal his heart. I sigh and sit back down in front of my desk.

My mind flies to six years ago, right back when the clan, silently, was eating the prey that Lyna had brought that day of the rite of conversion to adult. I still remembered how the clan members watched her in wonder, some even fear, but at that time, without doubt, Lyna earned the respect of all of them. That was the time when Ilen wanted, for the first time in decades, to take an apprentice under his tutelage. He went on to become almost a father to her. He instilled her discipline in combat, filled her head with stories about the Occupation, about the war and battles against the usurper, he trained her in all stealth techniques, shadow, and espionage. It seemed that he was preparing her for war, a war that nobody even knew. She learned quickly, she was like a sponge; she assimilated even the gestures and expressions of her master. Sometimes I watched how relentless Ilen was in his training. He used a stick made of Silvan wood, thin as a twig of Elfroot but very flexible and extremely dense. Whenever Lyna made a mistake, he shook that Silvan branch and, with the tip, he stroked Lyna's body area that was the cause of the fault. Many of those times, Ilen hit her head trying to say with that that she should concentrate more in the task, that she should first control her mind to control her body. She never stopped trying to improve herself, to achieve mastery, she never questioned Ilen's orders (cannot say the same of my orders), she never replied or moaned in pain at the endless hours of practice and countless injuries that formed in her hands, legs, face and torso. It was like as if her body was preparing for a storm; a storm that she alone had to go through. Since age 13, she trained day and night, rained or snowed, in the middle of a river, a forest, a clear ... Ilen was relentless. He taught her to climb trees as if she were ethereal, learned the art of attack with two daggers while she achieved the mastery in long and short bow. She didn't wear her quiver on her back, despite the astonishment of many of the hunters. Instead, she preferred to take it hanged in her belt of her Halla's leather armor. She said that that was the best way to keep better control of the amount of arrows, and to pour the right amount of poison to wound and not to kill, besides that, having arrows attached to her hip, made her even faster with the bow.

I had never seen so much talent in an archer... perhaps in Ilen before he stopped practicing with the bow and swords to become the clan's master craftsman. I never understood why he decided to move away from the path of the warrior. Perhaps he realized that the time of glory and revenge had passed. After all, as a child, he lived in Denerim's elven alienage. He fled from that place to join the Night Elves created by Loghain at the time of the Orlesian occupation. Definitely an intense and interesting life ... a life that attracted me since I first met him.

I try to deflect the memory but I can't help but remember those long nights at his side when, with his rough, calloused and experienced fingers, he stroked my neck and shoulders with a tenderness and passion that I find myself flinching each time I think about it. Fingers that awoke that fire in me even now, that I long believed nonexistent.

I shiver. I shouldn't be remembering that. Too much time has passed since my relationship with Ilen was over and it didn't end well. I had to become the Keeper of the clan and, not being able to bear children biologically, I decided to leave Ilen's side forever with the hope that he formed a family of his own. He threatened to leave me and the clan, but he eventually stayed and no one else joined his side, wallowing in utter solitude and away from his true and only Love, Me. It seems that, after all, elves join forever in one way or another...

With Lyna's arrival, I felt that perhaps the gods gave me a chance to feel what it was like to be a mother, at least in some part. I welcomed her like a daughter and after a while, Ilen followed my footsteps. A sad reminder that neither of us would have offspring...

"No," - I say out loud trying to shake these thoughts, -"Those memories do not awaken good feelings in my heart." - I sighed again as I looked away to the drawer where I keep the locket that Ilen had given me the night he asked me to join him.

"What memories, Keeper?" - said a voice behind her.

Startled, I turned in one motion and, jump, finally discovering that the man who had entered was, indeed, Ilen. Unable to hide the surprise in my eyes I stammer, - "I-Ilen I didn't know you were he-here. What ... In what can I help you?" - Trying to control my nervousness, I rise from my chair but trip over the edge of the table and almost fall to the ground if not for the firm hand that grabbed hold of me at the appropriate moment.

I look up and see Ilen looking intently at me as he holds my arm to prevent the fall that would surely come. - "Are you all right, Keeper? ... Ehm ... I did not mean to alarm you."- He says with a half-smile as he bends in order to grasp me with the other hand and help me to get straight on my feet again.

I blush and start to shake. This man breaks all my walls. How was it possible that I, the Keeper, the guide and voice of wisdom of the clan, am so weak when in front of Ilen? By Mythal! I must have been stronger and now I look like a desperate teenager.

I, finally, stand straight and attempt to straighten my robes, looking up; I discover that he has taken a step closer to me, invading part of my personal space. Ilen is still holding my arms while he proudly wears that stupid half-smile that so many old memories brought to my mind. Marethari, run, flee, you're not safe here, -my mind says but my heart screams -So many years without having him so close, so many lost years, so much pain ... for what?

Noticing conflict in my eyes, Ilen steps back, releasing my arms and clears his throat, - "Ir Abelas, Keeper. I should not have entered without calling first ... What is that saying? Old habits die hard ... I think."

I blush even more at his words and stealing a glance at him I can tell he feels the same. To break the ever growing awkward silence I say, -"It doesn't matter, Master Ilen, I was just focused on my thoughts and I did not expect another visit so soon." - I manage to control my nervousness at the end, but my heart is pounding hard in my chest.

I can tell he is offended by the use of his role and the coldness of my voice as he replies, "If you say so, Keeper. I just came here because Lyna told me that you are going to send her with Fenarel to Gwaren for more supplies. I thought we had everything we needed, hahren"

Hahren? Since when is he so formal? He's trying to anger me but he won't succeed.- "Well Master, as you know the road that awaits us ahead is not very friendly and in Gwaren we can get more fabrics, food and materials that we may later not be able to get. The forest is not in harmony and I feel that something terrible is about to happen. We need to be prepared for any eventuality," - I say firmly watching him as I close my hands behind my back.

Pondering my words, Ilen asks - "Does that feeling have anything to do with the Veil, Keeper? I have felt the Hallas very restless lately, and I can tell that the wolves aren't the only reason. I've ... ehm ... I have ventured beyond the southern section of the Brecilian forest for the past few nights and I felt the forest too quiet… as if something is about to break."

"Ilen! That was very unwise of you. You should not go alone to explore. What if something happened to you? What if ...?" - In my throat died the question. I feel my eyes burning in pain at the sight of the body of her beloved... I must control myself, I cannot let flow my fears so freely in front of him.

"What if... what, Keeper?"- Ilen asks as he steps forward, with a serious look and frown. - "What does it matter what happens to me now? I died years ago... right in that moment when you decided to leave my side…"- He feels rage about to take control of him and to avoid doing something he might regret later, he quickly says- "That doesn't matter right now. What matters is that Lyna has a training to complete with her new bow. I hope this is the last time that she has to leave for such an insubstantial task. She's my apprentice and is under my care, the next time I'll appreciate if you tell me first about your intentions, Marethari." - With her name still on his lips, he turns and starts walking towards the door, until he felt a hand holding his arm and heard…

"Ir Abelas, ma vhenan ... I ... I'm just sorry."- And I let him go.

Without looking back, he opens the door and escapes from that prison of pain. With his eyes fixed on his workshop, he decides to concentrate on his work and not distract himself thinking about the agony of the past. It doesn't help ... our time had ended ... it's too late now for regrets.

I stand for a moment not knowing what to do. Ma vhenan? - My heart - Why? Why is this still hurting after so long? I realize that my hand still suspended in the air where Ilen's arm had been. I have called him ma vhenan! I am shaken, trembling with anger and sadness because of the pain that I am unable to soothe. I am the cause; I am the one to blame. I'm such a fool. Lowering my arm, I realize I need to clear my mind so I sit back in front of my table. Taking a moment to close my eyes, I regain my will and control. Then opening blank vellum, I begin to write. I should occupy my mind with more pressing matters. Something dark was approaching, and it was not the pain of a lost love, it was something that would change the course of history. I feel it in my old bones and heart. The spirits of the Veil were giving too many warnings and I must inform other clans of this. It is my duty. I will not fail them too. "Maybe in Weisshaupt I'll find some answers. I'll write to them first" - I say out loud to myself and with that, my determination turns steely. We should get going.


Hahren: elder. Show of respect.

Da'len: Little child.

Ir abelas: I'm sorry.

Ma vhenan: my heart.

Ma nuvenin: as you wish.

Ma serannas: thank you.

Dareth Shiral: safe travel or as a goodbye.

Shems/Shemlen: quick children, referring to humans.

Vallaslin: blood writing. Tattoos depicting the coming of adulthood of the Dalish elves and honoring the gods of the pantheon.

Weisshaupt: central fortress of the Grey Wardens in the Anderfels.