Not the Halla. Crouching lower Nate scanned the forest for other game. There. A bear. A male. That should provide a decent fight and feed the servants for a few days. Readying his bow he crept forward, being careful to keep himself down wind of the huge animal. One sniff of his scent and he could lose the bear or find himself the hunted if it charged before he was ready.

Rhosyn lay on the branch and watched the human. He walked right under her and didn't notice she was there. It seemed they were as unobservant as she'd been told. His attention wasn't on his surroundings but on his hunt. What was he hunting? The Halla? Easy game which might suit a human. No. Not the bear surely? That might prove too much for him. Rolling off she let herself drop lightly to the ground.

Something landed on the ground behind him. Nate spun but there seemed to be nothing there. His imagination? Doubtful. Eyes narrowed he moved in the direction the sound had come from.

"That bear will kill you." Rhosyn was impressed when the human didn't seemed startled by her sudden appearance and simply lowered his bow. "I thought you were after the Halla at first. Its easier game. Why chase the bear instead?"

"Halla are harmless." A Dalish elf. An elf certainly, her dark hair was cropped short enough to make a cap for her head, leaving her ears exposed. No tattoo, so he couldn't be sure. "Are you a Dalish elf?"

"Are you a shemlen, human?" His head tilted. "Dalish. That I'm an elf should be obvious even to you."

"Yes you are rather short." He was surprised when she grinned. "You don't have a tattoo, that's why I asked."

"Ah." Rhosyn touched her face. "Soon." She'd proven her skill as a hunter and was now considered an adult. Once she'd chosen her blood writing it would be time for the ceremony. "Perhaps next time we meet I will."

"Are you going to make a habit of dropping out of trees onto my head?" The bear would be long gone by now, so Nate put his bow away. "Or something different?"

"I may drop out of a tree or perhaps I'll come up out of the ground and grab you as you walk past."

"Well, if you're going to be grabbing me, I should introduce myself." Straightening his back he bowed to her as if he was at the Palace in Denerim. "Nathaniel Howe at your service, my lady."

"My lady? I like that." She also bowed. "I am Rhosyn, a pleasure to meet you Nathaniel Howe."

They were on his family's land and Nate knew his father would expect that he'd warn her off. "Will your clan be here long?"

"Possibly. The game is plentiful." Rhosyn ran her eyes from his head to his toes then back. "Will you tell the Shemlen lord in his castle that we're camped here? Have him run us off?"

"How do you know that's what he'd do. Perhaps he'd let you stay." Surely his father wouldn't begrudge them the food they needed to survive? Hearing the light trill of her laughter, Nate smiled, a little uncertainly. "Why is that funny?"

"My clan has roamed this area for generations. Always the Howes drive us off and always we come back." She tapped his chest with one finger. "When you are lord of this land, Nathaniel Howe, I have no doubt you'll do the same."

"I won't. My word on it." She didn't appear too impressed by that.

"And what is the word of a Howe worth to a Dalish?"

"The same as it is worth to anyone. I don't lie Rhosyn. When I am Arl your people may roam as they please and hunt as they please."

Surprisingly she believed him. "A shem who'd give their word to an elf? You are a strange shem indeed Nathaniel Howe."

"Nate. Call me Nate." Her almost golden eyes sparkled when she smiled. "You're remarkably pretty, if you don't mind me saying."

"I don't mind at all. Nate."

. . .

"May I?" Nate waited for Rhosyn to nod before lifting her chin. "Its beautiful." The shapes in her new tattoo, blood writing she called it, reminded him vaguely of a Halla. Curved and twisted patterns covering her forehead and cheeks. There was an echoing shape on her chin. He'd worried that it might somehow ruin what had been a pretty face. It didn't. Without the tattoo she'd been merely pretty, now, she was beautiful. "It looks like a Halla."

Smiling was still painful and would be for a while, but the pain was a reminder that she'd passed her final test and was now an adult. Not one sound had passed her lips. Not one. The pain had been tremendous but she'd endured it.

"Did it hurt?" He'd never experienced it himself, but Nate knew how the work was done. Needles pushing ink into the skin.

"Not at all." His smile said he didn't believe her but would indulge her lie. "Horribly."

"That I believe. Congratulations its beautiful."

"Thank you." She'd waited eagerly to share this with him. Even if she couldn't share everything. Her friend. How very strange that was to have a shemlen friend. "Are you ready to hunt? I have a new bow I want to try."

"A new bow?" He took the bow she held out. "This is amazing." He'd never seen the like. "I'd heard the Dalish were master bow makers but I'd never thought to see one." What he'd give to have one of his own.

"Keep it. A gift of friendship."

"I couldn't take this. Its yours." As much as he might want it, explaining to his father where it had come from, might prove tricky. "My own bow is fine."

"Pfft. Shemlen craft." Rhosyn laughed to show she was teasing and took her bow back. "Let's hunt then Nate, I feel like bear stew for supper."

. . .

Caring for her bow was second nature. Every evening she'd unhook the string and oil the wood. Pass a cloth along the carved pieces of wood that made up her bow. When the bow maker had given it to her, she'd cried. Rhosyn could remember crying.

She didn't cry often, it was a point of honour with her not to. Since becoming an adult she'd cried only three more times. Once when they'd told her she'd passed her test and could now choose her blood writing. The first time she'd lain with Nate. And finally, the day she'd realised he was gone and wouldn't return.

Odd how twice he'd made her cry when even banishment hadn't.

The cloth slid up the long pliable pieces of wood and back down. Soothing her even as she thought of her past pain.

Coming here may prove to be a mistake. Years spent wandering the wild, and less wild, places of Thedas had taught Rhosyn resilience and the value of love. If she had made a mistake she'd endure. Just as she always had.

Fergus Cousland. Thinking of him soothed as much as caring for her bow. A true friend when she'd most needed one. It was at his urging that she'd come to Vigil's Keep. He'd told her about the Dalish Warden and how she'd left Nate to return to her clan.

The Hero of Ferelden thought her people more important than her love. Thinking about that, Rhosyn watched the cloth slide over the wood. Stupid female. Stupid. What did clan matter? When you die will your clan thank you for giving up everything? No. They move on and live without you, just as they do if you choose love.

"You still have it."

Rhosyn looked up from her bow to see Nate crouched beside her. "Yes." Remembering she held it out to him. "Take it. A gift of friendship." He hesitated, obviously unsure what this meant. They'd not seen each other for 10 or more years and in the two days they'd hunted the bandits, they'd not spoken a word that wasn't about their hunt.

He remembered her offering him this bow once before. When they'd both been too young to understand that sometimes love isn't enough. After a moment he reached out and took the bow from her.

"Thank you." She smiled, moving the tattoo on her face and the scar. Whoever, or whatever, had caused it, had ruined the master-work of the blood writing. "I'm honoured."

"You honour me by accepting it."