((A/N – I am so reluctant to leave the Dalish world, please bear with me, Sahira will eventually do the Grey Warden thing and as only a Dalish elf can. Another chapter or so within the embrace of the clan... yes... I thank my reviewer and it is to you Ser, I owe a bounty of inspiration. It is your kind words among others that touch my heart and breathe life into Sahira. I thank my husband the Giant's addict for reading this as beta. Falconry is a sport too ya know. Bioware owns all that is Dragon Age, the rest is mine. Shambalahe is my WoW druid, since I have not played in ages I owed her an appearance. After five years of raiding I owed her a blissful retirement. As always, your hits, your feedback that you read this at all, feeds the creative soul here. Namaste. "Bring me to life..." Indeed. Yes Sahira, I will.))

Chapter 10

Then condemned were long gone, swallowed by the forest's thickness by the time I had sprinted to the small camp and taken up the pieces of my now broken bow. A part of me wished to chase after that monster but such would never repair the damage done. Ilen had crafted this bow especially for my hand. Now it was destroyed. I sat there in stunned silence, holding the two pieces, gazing numbly at the dangling bowstring.

"You're going to be late you know."

I glanced up to see Junar and shrugged nonchalantly. My heart was heavy with all that had transpired. At this moment in time my heart really had nothing left to give. I gazed dully at Junar and allowed the pieces of the broken bow to fall to my feet.

"Late for what?"

"The competition. You are still on the roster. Despite the drama of the past two days, the elders thought it best for the activities to go on."

"Yeah such is our way, but I am not competing. Even if I had the desire to, how could I?"

Junar snorted at me, easily crossing the short distance across the small camp with long strides. He simply gripped my arm and forcibly tugged me to my feet. His strong fingers dug into my upper arm as he pulled me close, his face inches from my own. A fiercely strong determination smoldered in his gaze.

"You will compete because you must! I did not spend weeks preparing you to wallow in self pity. You will enter and you will be strong because you must. I will not allow you to poison your own heart."

"But..Junar... this is impossible!"

My protests fell on deaf ears. Junar practically dragged me from the camp as I scowled and muttered all sorts of elven profanity under my breath. I did not know what he thought I could possibly accomplish going through with this. My big brother was not one to take no for an answer.

"Here she is Ilen. Best to place her in the first round before she runs."

Before I could utter more protests I felt the leather strap of a quiver slide over my shoulder, familiar weight settle upon my back. A large bow was slapped into my right hand and all I could do was stand there gaping. Junar whispered harshly into my ear.

"Your hand is my hand, my bow is your bow. My strength is your strength. Now harness that pain and release it. Focus."

He shoved me hard, forcing me to stumble towards the others gathered to prove their prowess with the bow. I was welcomed with a few snickers. I glared murderously at the targets set across the green field. The fingers of my right hand adjusted upon the supple smooth wood of the bow, learning it's weight before passing it to my left.

Ilen's strong voice rang out over the assembled crowds.

"The rules of the archery match are simple, the first to the complete the course will be declared the winner. You will be tested on marksmanship and accuracy. Your targets will be both stationary and mobile. Each round will be announced and you will commence shooting on my word."

"Round one! Critical shots will be the only ones to qualify to advance to the next round. Shoot!"

I drew an arrow from my quiver without thought and notched it to the bowstring. It was like breathing and there was something comforting in the feel of the shaft in my fingers, the sound of the bowstring creaking as it grew taught as I drew it back. My green eyes narrowed as I took aim at the erected target. That target was my foe, my prey and I harnessed my hate and rage and hurt, refined it to a deadly and perfect aim. Something inside me rejoiced as I loosed the arrow to cut through the air and I was rewarded with the solid sound of the target firmly being hit.

The air was alive with hushed murmurs of the crowd as Ilen inspected the targets for accurate critical shots. He was the acknowledged hunter master for this Gathering as well as for our clan. Not only could he craft fine weapons and armor, there was nothing this man did not know about the hunt. I held my breath and glanced about me to the others competing. They all looked as nervous as I felt.

"The following hunters will move on to the next leg....."

Confidence surged throughout my veins as I heard my name called. Junar has been right. I had to do this, I had to try, I had to focus my rage and pain into something that would give me my spirit back. I lifted my chin a little and smiled as I heard my clan scream my name in cheers.

Each round was harder than the one before it. We competed ferociously, chasing after the spell wisps the Keepers flung at us. I loved every moment of it, to feel the adrenaline pump, the sweat pour down my face. My fingers were bleeding as we approached the last round. A part of me wanted this to never end. This was home, where I was strong and the trap of self pity could not touch me. Two of us were left and I smiled in respect to the hunter from the other clan.

This last round will determine the winner of this Gathering's archery competition. You will kite an orb of magical energy. Should the orb reach you first, you are out. First hunter across the finish line wins."

I heard the sizzle of electrical magic rise crisp in the air and inwardly groaned. Those things hurt. Now was not the time to dwell on it, for it was advancing upon me and I was running, leaping into the air to twist my legs and hips, aim and fire a slowing shot before hitting the ground and darting off again to sprint away to gain distance.. Every muscle of my legs and arms ached as I evaded the magical electric orb pursuing me. I glanced for a split second to the other hunter who was evenly paced with me and looking just as determined. With a final push, we rose simultaneously , bodies writhing as hips and torso's twisted and arrows flew. When my feet hit the ground I lunged forward for the finish, gasping for breath.

It was a close call, but the other hunter had crossed the finish line just a moment before I did. I grinned as I wrapped him up in a hug both of us rolling over the soft earth. I was happy he had won. It was a heady battle and that was what I loved.

"No hard feelings?"

"No of course not, I should be thanking you. You may have won but I got a precious reward as well."

We helped each other to stand and exchanged another hug. I stood with my head held high and for the first time in days, I felt completely happy. Junar for all his brashness and bluntness was far wiser than I had given him credit for. He knew what my heart needed when I did not. His strength had been mine until I could claim my own back.

"Next Gathering, I am kicking your ass though."

"I look forward to the battle lethallan."

I laughed and left the victor to his adoring crowd, striding through the tall green grass of the field. It did not take much time for my clan to find me, sweep me up in their collective hugs, words of warmth and congratulations. I soaked it all in and I think in that moment I truly knew what it was to be Dalish, to be something more than just myself. Never was I alone. My hand was as their hand, their strength was my strength.

Junar was standing off by himself by Ilen's aravel, grinning at me. I did not know words appropriate enough to thank him for what he helped me to see, what he demanded I give back to myself, my clan. How exactly do you thank someone for giving back your heart and soul? There are no words for that, Junar had taught me such thanks is shown through living fearlessly and fully.

"I did not win the contest Junar, but I did win the war."

I shoved his bow back into his hand and smiled into his eyes. He knew me well enough that I need not state what I felt, he could read what was reflected in the soulful gaze of my eyes.

"Never in those weeks we trained did I say you had to win the contest my sister. You needed to find yourself again. I just gave you the shove you needed. Next Gathering however..."

I nodded and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. I heard yipping and barking behind me and had to laugh to see the sight of my wolf dancing upon hind legs. Affectionately I grasped up his paws, dancing with him. Junar quirked a dark brow and laughed.

"Speaking of dancing Sahira, you are coming tonight yes?"

"Of course, I thought it would be fun if we all go but I wanted to stop by Master Varathorn's camp. I heard he had brought some excellent ironwood bows, thought I would see his wares."

"That's my girl. Now I need to find something to eat before the dagger throwing competition. It would be epic failure to faint mid throw."

"Daggers eh? Hmmm."

A slow grin passed over my lips as I canted my head. Junar was a master of the bow but not of the dagger. That was a forte of mine. My slender fingers reached to my right hip to withdraw my blade. I pressed the handle to Junar's hand. This was my personal dagger, I knew every crafted inch of this blade and cared for it as a mother does her child.

"Your hand is as my hand brother. Be merciless."

Junar was of course, merciless and triumphant. I had been proud to cheer him on.

The festivities carried on all day and I enjoyed strolling the meadow with my hand laced through Tamlen's, the laughter of Merrill and Fenarel trailing behind us. My wolf for the most part stayed at my side, occasionally distracted by a butterfly or bounding hare. I could hear the clash of steel as men fought fiercely in the sparring competition. We had watched the older warriors for a time and it was easy to see why the shemlen would fear us. There was no mercy in the eyes of the elven warriors as they fought, if only for first blood.

It was a carefree afternoon of stealing kisses, laughing, enjoying the company of my friends and of the gathered clans. Whatever awkwardness that had been created by past event's drama was forgotten now. It was not our way to dwell on things that could not be changed.

"Ohhh Sahira, there is Elder Shambalahe's fire. She makes the the most beautiful clothing. C'mon!"

I cast a helpless look at Tamlen as Merrill grasped my free hand and dragged me off laughing. Tamlen grinned as he blew a kiss my way.

"Seems the ladies wish to shop Fenarel. I don't know about you but I have no desire to look at beaded dresses and armbands. I hear Althandrel has some good games at his fire."

"Sounds good to me Tamlen. Sa', Merrill, it seems Tamlen wishes me to watch him lose more arrowheads. Come find us when you are done."

I giggled helplessly, knowing Tamlen was horrible at gambling but I could not blame them for wanting to go play. I stumbled after Merrill to the Elder's fire, the scent of freshly tanned leather greeting me. Shambalahe was a bit of a legend, none knew exactly how old she really was and she had this uncanny way of just knowing things about people. It was said she knew the shape shifting magic too. The elder also crafted dresses for ceremonial dancing.

"Andaran atish'an , da'len. Come by the fire and relax."

My wolf whined softly as we approached, his tail wagging in a fury. The elder woman smiled, giving the animal a good and proper scratch upon the neck as Merrill and myself seated ourselves across from her. My curious green eyes drank in her timeless features. Lines etched across her brow and at the corners of her silver eyes. She wore her long pale hair loose to her hips with no adornment. She looked as if she had been borne of the moonlight. A quiet strength and power radiated from her. I smiled and nervously swallowed.

"Now would you pretty da'len like some tea, perhaps a bone for your handsome wolf. Oh yes I think he would like that just fine."

"Thank you Hahren."

My wolf was happily gnawing and slurping the marrow from a large deer bone settled snugly between his paws, laying content at her feet. The ethereal eyes of the elder's met mine. My hand shook a bit as I struggled not to spill my tea. Shambalahe's gaze was the softness of spun halla wool and the warmth of a mother's lap. She smiled gently, setting the teapot down to warm anew.

"You come for my wares, to enchant the young men beneath Andruil's gaze? Hmm?"

"Well, ummm..."

My social skills were once again proving less than eloquent as I stammered. I looked about for Merrill but she was already off behind the aravel, with her nose in an old tome. Shambalahe laughed softly, the sound of her laughter clear and innocent as a bubbling creek.

"Ah da'len, the life for those chosen by the Mother Huntress is never easy yet you have proven worthy. No need to be nervous of me. I am just an old woman. You have had many challenges as of late yes?"

"Ummm..."

Those silvery eyes crinkled a bit in warmth as she laughed lightly. Her lips drew up in a serene smile I could not help but get caught up in. She rose with an elegant grace to come and sit beside me, placing a wrinkled hand upon my knee.

"More await you da'len but such is not a worry for today. No for today we shall worry about color and shape. No golds and silvers for you. Nature is your heart. You know I have something I have saved for many years now that would suit. Yes."

The Elder reached behind to draw open the top of a massive chest, rummaging through it until a garment swaddled in layers of silk emerged in her hands. She nodded as she looked at me with her wise piercing gaze. I was still speechless, yet I watched.

"Once, some sixteen or seventeen years ago, another wore this dress at a Gathering. A huntress with your lovely dark hair and green eyes. Yes I think this will suit you perfectly, though her tale is not mine to tell, that you shall learn in time da'len. Come try this on, I think you will like it."

"Uhhh okay...."

There was something about her words to me that spoke to my heart, some distant memory not known by sight but by feeling. I could smell something familiar as I unwrapped the layers of silk, inhaling the rising scent of feathers, leather and that undefined smell, something that made my pulse race, it was warm and safe. I could not place it but I knew it on a primal level.

Cool hands helped me out of the sweaty Dalish leather I wore, an even cooler cloth cleansing away the built up grime and dust from the day's triumphs and exertions. Shambalahe helped me into the finely crafted ceremonial dress of feathers and leather. My fingers stroked over the softness of the black plumes that captured mingling hues of deep emerald green and violet. Delicate bead work glinted in the corner of my eye as I smoothed my hands down long the short black leather skirt. It was made entirely of fringe and beads, cut high on my hips, the knotted ends teasing over the tops of my thighs.

I could not help but admire it as I grinned and twisted my hips to and fro, hearing the beads rattle, watching the light play over the feathers to invite the colors to bloom.

"Ohhh Hahren....it is.... just...."

"Yes dear, that is exactly what your mother said when I crafted this for her. Now for accessories."

"What? This was my mother's? You knew my mother?"

"A tale better told at another time da'len. Trust me yes? Now I think a few armbands with the black feathers and the anklets with the black and green beads. Yes. Perfect. She would be so proud you know."

I was left in stunned silence. This woman had known my mother, crafted this beautiful dress for her. And she gave this now to me. I wanted to ply her with questions but my mouth would do nothing but stammer as her gentle hands drew me towards a mirror. My eyes widened as I glanced this mysterious creature in the reflection. Her hair dark and long hung to her hips as pale withered hands adorned her brow with a beaded circlet, the gems sparkling in deep onyx and forest green. Rich black feathers rose about her breasts to offer hints of the forest with winks of emerald, the plumes at her waist mere kisses of violet.

The feathers ended in a rich drape of perfectly tanned black leather, tight over the hips, the thin fringe a tease over her tanned thighs and beaded in more onyx and forest green. Just a few pale beads of ivory added an ethereal sparkle. Feathered armbands accented her biceps as glinting beads shone at her ankles. All I could do was gawk shamelessly, unbelieving this creature was me.

"Needless to say dear, there is no charge seeing this was your mother's. All I ask is you do not ask me of her, that is not my tale to share. The time will come when you can repay me. Trust me on this. Yes?"

I was still gawking when Merrill strolled close and gasped.

"Oh Sahira..."

"It's.... it was my... my mother's..."

"No wonder then.... lethallan."

"Hahren, could you work your magic on Merrill?"

"But of course dear, let's see, yes for her the silver and cool blues, just give me a moment. Such lovely blonde hair."

What had entered the Elder's fire had emerged images of goddesses cloaked in mystery for now, only to reveal their power and beauty in the dancing that would come. Merrill and I grinned at each other and we squeezed hands again, all giddy for our experiences with the Elder Shambalahe. I would never forget her, what she gave me.. We both glowed with feminine power as we crossed the field to call back the men who were surely rendered broke by now.

"You think they are truly broke Merrill?"

"Mmm probably Sa'."

"Blast, I hope I still have enough for the bow I wanted."

We approached the fire of Althandrel, known gambler and cheat. If I really wanted to I could probably cut his purse or waste hours of time bluffing him at cards but I found both rather boring. Tamlen was cursing beneath his breath which did not bode well and Fenarel was laughing. Yep, Tamlen lost again.

"So ladies, how was the shopping adventure?"

"Amazing, Elder Shambalahe is such a beautiful soul. And generous as well. She gave me something of my mother's."

"Oh? Do tell."

"No. You my love, will simply have to watch and wait. I promise it will be worth it."

Merrill was the one to end the games, insisting that we go watch the children's dance as I teased Tamlen. I did have something in mind for him, something intimate and special. My hand slipped easily into his, the softness of my lips brushing a fleeting kiss over his warm mouth. I heard his answering purr and grinned, oh this would be a good night indeed.

Sahira....do I look ok?"

I felt an insistent tug on my cloak and glanced down to see Rhyader's daughter Evella peering up at me, her lips clearly pouting. My heart melted, she looked so pretty in her deerskin dress, the crown of flowers now drooping to all but cover one pretty green eye.

"Come here lethallan, hold still."

I adjusted the flowers at her brow and smoothed the leather that adorned her thin and coltish body.

"Now you are perfect."

"Really? Are you sure?"

"Of course I am love. Now take a giant deep breath and count to three. Then you will knock 'em dead. Promise."

I smoothed the ends of her long hair and gave her behind a light swat to set her moving to where the other children awaited their ques. She grinned up at me, hugging my knees tight again before racing off, the garland inevitably drooping. It was too cute. I glanced tenderly to Tamlen, hope shining in my bright green eyes that we should have this, a child who hugged knees and looked at us with such trust. He grinned at me and stole an arm about my waist, leading me off with Merrill and Fenarel to watch the dancing.

Drums struck up a light and playful rhythm as the trilling of flutes wove in, creating an innocent atmosphere. The strums of lap harps and lutes eased effortlessly with the joyful sound now rising from the center of the meadow. There burst a glory of color and laughter as Dalish children raced out, all adorned in beaded deerskin and brightly hued ribbons. Brightly flushed cheeks were painted with hare's blood, sacred to our Goddess. I do not think a single one of us that watched could not grin in pride. I glanced to my friends as I started the chant and the rhythmic clapping, urging the children on.

"From the blessed hearth they are born and by our hand and heart made strong..."

My breath was taken away as I watched Evella's pretty face, upturned in rapture as she spun and leaped, left to the abandon of her innocent heart. I caught Rhyader's face as tears of pride trailed over the crevices of time and grief. Ashelle held his hand. I hoped the Goddess would bless me so, with children as I watched the youngest of the Dalish dance their hearts with their frenzy and fancy.

Drums resounded louder as the children were led off to eat sweet honeyed treats or slumber in their mother's arms. These drums that pounded now were not for the innocent, I could feel each beat resound in my racing pulse. I peeled my cloak off, throwing back my head to release a spirited cry to the Moon. I heard a soft gasp as I was revealed in feathers and leather a bit of beads.

"Tamlen...."

My gaze flared hot as my hips wove in serpentine motion, easing the fringe of my costume over supple tanned thighs. Beads rattled, feathers beckoned touch as I gazed at him, my hands snaking overhead, wrists twisting sinuously about each other. I wanted to eat him alive. I wanted to taste and eat and touch and know everything. I switched my curvy hips, pivoting on my toes to rattle the beads, send my dark hip length hair to whisper and tease over the gentle curves he would know later.

"And so the daughter of the goddess calls her god, may the fires burn bright, the earth offer fertility.."

Shambalahe simply watched, a very pleased smiled etched upon her full lips. She enjoyed watching the daughter seize womanhood, her strength after so much had threatened to break that. Silver eyes glistened with a warm joy as she observed men and women come together beneath fire and moonlight. It was only natural.

Feral screams and howls rose as fires were lit to honor the sacred Goddess of the hunt and fertility, the sisters who tended the wood as well as the hearth. Tamlen gazed at Sahira in wonder, a bowl cupped in his hand as she writhed gracefully about him. His fingers dipped into the sacred hare's blood and as she danced before him, her head thrown back in wild abandon, he traced his damp fingertip to trail along the line of her neck. Her head lifted up as her hips swayed with the potent rhythm of the drums, swaying to offer glimpse of thigh and hip. Slender fingers dipped into the blood to trail over each of his cheeks, his nose.

"What She has brought together let none ever lay asunder...."