As I keep reading through this early English literary "accomplishment" of mine, I become more and more embarrassed by it, but shall keep on sharing. Who knows, perhaps someone might like it.


"I feel well enough to get up, my lady." Nathaniel proclaimed the next day.

Avathiel objected, arching her eyebrow, "Are you sure?" she said.

He smiled, thinking that her expression was endearing. He thought he was going to lose himself in the compassionate depths of the blue wells that were her eyes.

"I am sure, my lady." he assured her.

"Very well, I shall believe you, ser Howe."

"Nathaniel." he corrected her. "Simply Nathaniel."

"I believe you, lord Ho—" she bit her tongue mid-word. "I believe you, Nathaniel." she corrected herself.

Then she handed him a bundle of clothes, explaining herself: "I figured you would want to get up one day, so I adjusted them to your size. And I also thought you would like to bathe yourself; you can do so in the nearby river. I'll wait for you by the aravel."

As they walked through the camp she talked about life of the Dalish, about their travels, their traditions. She told him the name of every single elf they met and what tasks they did for the clan. Nathaniel seemed very interested in everything she had to say, or perhaps he simply liked the sound of her voice. They ventured through the misty forest and when they finally stopped they were standing in a grove where river fell of the mossy rock and formed a small waterfall, just big enough for a human to stand under. She listened to the voice of the river which sang its gloomy, languid aria, accompanied by the loud crescendo of the waterfall beyond, a cheerful choir of chirping birds and the gentle twitter of wind playing with the needles and leaves of the trees. Such was the symphony of the forest, the song she loved above any other.

She was interrupted by Nathaniel's voice, filled with concern:

"I get the feeling I am not welcome among your people. Especially your Keeper does not seem to like my presence here."

"He views humans with suspicion and fear. His wariness may seem a bit like hostility, but it's just the nature of elves that he's not willing to overcome. Yet I cannot deny that he has good reasons of his own as well. Last time we allowed a human to walk among us a crime was committed—an apostate witch stole priceless tome written in old elven tongue, the heirloom only our clan possessed. He sent one of our best hunters—Ariane—to track the witch and she returned with the book only ran away with an escaped Circle mage—a human, no less. He was never more disappointed. He should not judge the whole humanity for the actions of another, however."

"You are not hostile, my lady Avathiel." he said, sweeping the stray lock of hair from her face.

"That is because I do not hold old grudges for pain my people have suffered long time ago. Those wounds have long since healed even if they left an ugly scar. I think it is time for my people to find a new homeland and stop dreaming about the ones we have lost." she explained. "And…" she was silent for a while, wondering if saying those words out loud was really wise. "And it's because I am in love with you."

She turned from him, hastily trying to walk away in embarrassment, yet he caught her hand and cupped her face gently, spinning her to face him. Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and the intensity of her gaze spoke the truth of her words.

"Then I am pleased you feel the same way, my lady." he leaned down to kiss her but she disembroiled herself from his grasp.

"We should not be doing this. It is not wise." she said.

"What are you afraid of, Avathiel?"

"I should go." she tried to steel her voice against betraying emotion but failed. "I have other errands that need my attention. I'll return once they are completed."

And with that she departed, the voices of heart and reason arguing amongst themselves within her. She was certain that it was he she wanted, and yet felt it would be selfish and wrong to betray her people in such a way. She was the First, an heir to the Keeper of her clan, she had her duty and responsibility to protect and serve the Dalish, yet her heart whispered that her destiny lay beyond the Wilds and her clan. It was telling her that her fate lies in the hands of human man, her happiness awaiting her in his embrace and she was unable to ignore the voice, for it grew louder each time she tried. Finally, the voice of her heart won and suppressed the voice of reason.

Very well, she thought. I will listen. I will sacrifice my legacy for an illusion of happiness.


Avathiel returned to the grove an hour later, carrying a basket of food and his amended leather armour. For she had not spy Nathaniel nearby, she merely laid out his armour close to the riverbed, when suddenly he emerged from the water, naked from head to toe.

"By the Creators!" she shrieked and turned away swiftly, covering her eyes as she did so. "I did not realize you were not clothed yet."

He quickly leapt into his breeches before approaching her and once more spinning her to face him. Her cheeks were flaming red of shame.

"Did I startle you?" he asked, stroking her cheek.

"Yes. I mean no! I…" she stammered. "Well… let us move on."

He chuckled slightly, for he thought her innocence and shyness endearing; then he leaned in to press his lips to hers, yet Avathiel—in her last remaining bits of restraint—dodged his mouth and let him press as kiss upon her brow instead.

With an amused grin, he cupped her cheeks, asking once more: "What are you afraid of, Avathiel?"

Her voice faltered. "I… do not… rightly… know…" she said.

He smiled and pressed gentle kiss to her lips, embracing her as he did so. He inhaled her scent; she smelled of the forest, herbs and burning timber, and tasted of berries and cinnamon with just the faintest trace of lyrium. One simple breath made him fall in love with her fragrance. And she revelled in his embrace, breathing in the aroma that was uniquely him. To her he smelled like wind blowing in the snowy mountains, resin and linden in bloom; his taste reminded her of mint and sage—bitter yet most precious to her. They stood still for what seemed like ages, their arms entwined; silence spilling around them—even the ever restless wind ceased to rustle. Avathiel's eyes were overflowing with the crystal beads of her tears—ones of joy.

"I am enchanted by you, Avathiel." he whispered into her pointy ear as his hands unhooked the ivy-shaped clasp which was holding her hair in a tight chignon, the golden locks engulfing her narrow shoulders like a waterfall.

"As a dream you look, my dreamy maiden." he said before leaning down for yet another kiss, this time more loving and demanding. And as they broke the kiss, their eyes merged into each other's and their souls joined as well.

"I love you." her lips trembled.

"Leave with me Avathiel, join the Grey Wardens. The guild would value your magic and I would value your company."

"I cannot, Nathaniel, I dare not. Even though I wish to, my place and duty is with my people." she replied. "I cannot leave, not yet."

"I understand," he said, his voice saddened. "You are loyal to the Dalish and I respect that, but I'll be always waiting for you." he promised. "I'm afraid I shall need to return to Amaranthine soon. I don't doubt Delilah is worried sick that I've not yet returned."

"So you are married then," she frowned, disappointed in him and in herself for being foolish and naïve.

"No, it's not like that. I do not have a wife. Delilah is my sister, the only family I have left."

A pale smile formed on her lips at the new hope rising, but still she was saddened by the mention of his early departure. She would miss him greatly.

"But you are still going to leave." she muttered.

"Let's not speak about such sad things on such a lovely day, my dear." he appeased her, kissing her cheek and wiping away the tears she did not even know she had shed. "Let's leave the dreary topics for tomorrow."

Chirping playfully, she steered the topic elsewhere: "Are you not hungry? You Grey Wardens have a reputation of an ever starving lot."

It was in that moment that he noticed the low growl of his stomach.

"You are right, of course, I'm afraid your charms have left me completely oblivious to any sign of starvation." he said with a wide grin. "Let's see what you have brought me."


That night Avathiel and Nathaniel slept in her aravel—embraced, fingers entwined, they minds wandering the very same dreams, oblivious to the thoughts of the Keeper who noticed the seed of affection growing between them.

"I will not allow it." he muttered in his sleep. "He will pay for this audacity!"