Elin drove her dagger into the base of the shriek's skull and twisted. The creature twitched as it fell to the ground. Bitter blood spattered across her mouth as she wrenched the blade free. The darkspawn were nearly finished.

Something shifted behind her and she spun to attack. The creature was not quite like the others, and she hesitated for half a heartbeat. Something about the eyes –

Elin dropped her blades with a gasp.

The face was beyond recognition, but the thing had Tamlen's eyes. "Lethallan."

A sob rose in Elin's throat. "Nae. Nae dar Tamlen."

"Run! Stay away!" Tamlen turned and bounded into the trees.

"Nae! Lethallin!" She ran after him as someone cried out behind her. The forest seemed to turn against her, snagging and pulling as she followed his wisp of a trail. "Lethallin!"

When she finally burst into a clearing, Tamlen was on his knees, hands over his face. Each finger ended in a long, sharp claw. "You should not see me like… this."

"Tamlen. I thought you were dead. Abelas. " Tears filled her eyes until her vision grew blurry. "I should have looked for you longer."

He shook his head and looked up at her. "I was gone. Emma din." Each word

Elin moved forward, hardly able to breathe. "Come with me. Emma dorf'mi."

Every limb in Tamlen's body went rigid and he let out a howl that chilled her. His head thrashed back and forth until he fell forward, panting in exhaustion.

She started forward, but he held up a hand. "Nae! I can hear him in my head. The song is in my blood." Tamlen shuddered. "The song is in you." He looked at her in pure confusion. "Do you not hear? He calls until it burns. I, I –" Tamlen snarled and leaped toward her.

Tamlen's sharp teeth caught her arm and sank deep. She screamed as he worried at her arm, and his claws slashed at her ribs. She kicked and , but he was much stronger than she remembered.

Steel shone briefly in the moonlight before it connected with Tamlen's shoulder. He let out a roar that freed his teeth from her mangled arm. Tamlen tried to struggle to his feet, but Sten's sword lashed out and cut a deep gash from neck to navel.

Tamlen slumped forward and let out one gurgling breath as he collapsed on top of Elin.

She stared skyward as someone lifted Tamlen's body from hers. The wet noise of dead flesh hitting the ground made her flinch.

When someone gently touched her torn arm, the world went black.


Elin let out a quiet groan as the wagon bumped over rock. Wynne pressed a hand to the elf's forehead and frowned she found it hot. The infection had stubbornly hung on for three days, despite all of Wynne's healing and Morrigan's seemingly endless knowledge of herbs.

The wagon rocked as it went through a small rut, and Elin whimpered.

Wynne stroked Elin's hair gently. "We're almost there, dear." They were fortunate to have found a merchant willing to take them to Redcliffe. Zevran had taken a nasty wound to the leg, and walking had been nearly impossible for him. After she had warned him off complimenting her bosom, Zevran had spent most of his time regaling the merchant with wild tales of Antiva.

"Alistair?" Elin's eyes fluttered open and she reached at air.

"He'll be here tonight. You need to rest, now." Wynne held Elin's uninjured hand and cast a simple sleeping spell.

Elin murmured once before she slumped against the blankets.

Wynne leaned against the side of the wagon and closed her eyes as it creaked and groaned down the path.


Elin rushed him, blades out. Alistair lifted his shield and swung half-heartedly.

She stepped back and huffed disapprovingly. "I can fight."

Alistair kept his eyes on her daggers. "Wynne said to be careful."

"I can fight." She lashed out with her good arm and he parried just in time. The other dagger moved to strike and he thrust his shield into the blow.

Her weapon clattered to the ground as she drew in a hissing breath.

"Give it a few more days. You need rest."

Elin let out a frustrated cry and lashed out with the single blade. He caught the blow with his sword and pushed against her. She struggled against him, but there was nothing more she could do.

"I yield." The words were spoken through gritted teeth, and when Alistair relaxed she hurled her dagger at a practice dummy. The hilt bounced off one of the arms and plopped into the grass.

Alistair sighed and looked at her incredulously. "What was that about?" Elin tended to be better at stabbing things when she was angry, and she never lost her calm.

She leaned against a stone wall and looked skyward. "I'm tired of being sick." Elin scrubbed her face with the back of her good hand and sniffled. "It was Tamlen."

Alistair frowned in confusion. "What was Tamlen?"

Elin lifted up her scarred arm and drew in a shaking breath. "The thing that did this."

Alistair's heart dropped into his boots. Sten had sworn Elin had chased after one of the shrieks, but she had said nothing when asked. The shriek that had nearly killed her had been smaller than the others, and something about it had been off.

"Maker, Elin, I didn't know. I'm so sorry." The words sounded trite, though he doubted he could say anything to help.

She slid down the wall and shook her head. "I was stupid. I dropped my weapons when I saw him. I should have been more careful, I –"

"Elin." Alistair sat down next to her. "That's not what matters."

"I know." She leaned against his shoulder and sighed. "I know."


Elin hated Redcliffe. The castle still smelled like Eamon's sick bed, and he constantly spoke of what needed to be done once Alistair was king. The talk always put Alistair in a bad mood, and he would disappear to sulk. The one saving grace of the castle was the view of the lake, and that was why she sulked on the battlements.

They were to leave tomorrow, but again, Alistair had disappeared after Eamon's excited talk of something called taxes. Elin did not understand half of it, and honestly did not care to. She was simply glad her arm had healed enough to fight again.

"My lady."

Elin resisted the urge to flinch. "My name is Elin."

"I know." Teagan's tone was almost smug.

She kept her gaze on the lake. "Yes?"

Teagan settled next to her and peered over the edge of the wall. "What do you think you're going to get out of Alistair?"

"What?" Elin frowned in confusion.

"Eamon asked me to find out. I doubt he had such a… direct approach in mind, but I'd rather be honest." Teagan sighed. "What do you want from Alistair?"

Elin shrugged her shoulders against the sudden chill. "I don't understand."

Teagan shook his head. "Don't be coy. He's heir to the throne, and you weren't making eyes at him before you found out. What do you want from him?"

"Nothing."

"Is that how this will be?" Teagan searched her face a few moments before he pushed away from the wall. "Maybe you're telling the truth, maybe you aren't. It doesn't really matter. Eamon finds you 'inconvenient' for his plans. I'd stop things from going further if I were you."

Elin frowned. She cared little for the wishes of shemlen lords. "No."

Teagan pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a long breath. "I thought you'd say that. Well," he threw his hands up in exasperation, "don't say I didn't warn you."

Elin said nothing as he left, but the words put her ill at ease.

She stayed on the battlements until sunset, and when the call for dinner came she ignored it entirely. She owed Eamon nothing.


Alistair sighed when he saw the state of the strap. The darkspawn's dagger had almost severed it.

Elin abruptly crouched beside him and Alistair blinked. He was getting better at hiding his surprise, but he could never hear her footsteps when she wanted to be silent.

"What's wrong?" Elin picked up a bracer and inspected it.

He held the pauldron up for her to see. "Strap's almost been cut in two. I don't suppose we have any extra leather?"

"You could use the one around your bedroll." Elin grinned and set the bracer back down. "If it's even long enough."

"Very funny." Alistair stuck out his tongue for a brief moment. "I suppose I should wear the bedroll like a cape?"

Elin nodded seriously. "You would be very terrifying."

Alistair shook his head and chuckled. "Did you come over specifically to torment me, or was that just an added bonus?"

She took the pauldron from his fingers and placed it next to the bracers. "I wanted to tell you something."

Alistair frowned. She tended to the painfully direct sort of talk, and the last time Elin had skirted around an issue, it had involved warnings about angry, possibly murderous, Dalish if he so much as looked at her.

"Yes?" He half-wondered if there was something about elf-human relationships that made dwarves angry.

Color rose in her cheeks and she let out a long breath. Alistair braced himself for the worst.

"I… Creators, it shouldn't be this difficult." Elin licked her lips and began to trace designs in the dirt. "Ar nuvenin ma."

"I still don't understand Elvish." Alistair had tried to learn a few phrases, but he was hopeless.

She turned to him, eyes dark and intent. "What about this?"

Elin's mouth was on his before he had a chance to think. He yielded to her as she shifted to straddle his lap. The weight and warmth of her body made Alistair's head spin. He could feel the swell of her breasts against his chest, the roll of her hips as she moved to kiss him deeper. His hands rose to her waist, almost unbidden, and she murmured approvingly when they moved down to grip her hips.

She broke away from his mouth suddenly, and her breaths came quick and shallow. "Do you understand now?"

Alistair nodded dumbly. "Yes."

Elin ran a finger down his neck and smiled when he shivered. "Then come to bed with me?"

"Come to –" Alistair stopped as the words sank in. "Now?"

"Please." She nodded earnestly. "Ar nuvenin ma. I want you."

Alistair's mouth went dry and his face suddenly grew hot. He had thought about this, dreamed of it. Maker forgive him, he had touched himself more than once while he thought of her, but now he was all nerves. What if he disappointed her? Worse, what if he did something wrong and hurt her? He suddenly felt very big and clumsy, and entirely unsure of himself.

"Maker, Elin, I, I've never done this." His cheeks began to burn. "I want to, I want you, I just," he drew in a long breath, "I want this to be right. What if it's not what you expected?"

Elin splayed her fingers across his chest and brushed her lips against his ear. "Then we'll try again."

The warmth of her breath against his ear made Alistair whimper. "Elin."

"Hamin in'ar." Her hips rolled against his. "Please."

Teeth nipped at his ear, and Alistair's worries melted into liquid heat. "Yes."


Many thanks to the lovely xogs, who cleans up after my grammatical messes.