Sorry it's so short, lot going on in my life right now. Don't forget to review and let me know how I can improve/what changes you'd like to see, or ideas for where the story should go. I'm in a quandary though... I haven't read the Silent Grove yet and I really need to, it may be pertinent to how I write later chapters... let me know what you guys think?

Elswyth once again said goodbye to her clan, but this time it was sans trepidation and less of a heavy heart. This time it was of her own choosing. A decision wrought not of necessity, or survival, but of a misguided sense of belonging. Would she ever feel at home again? Even amongst the Wardens she was always the 'Commander,' the 'Hero of Ferelden.' An icon, not a forlorn, lonely elf. Of course not.

"So, Elswyth, what direction are we taking to get to Arlathan?" Zevran questioned as they paused to rest, the sun already casting the forest in the gold hues of sunset.

"You know, none of you need follow me. This trip is interesting solely to the only Dalish present… me."

"My dear, I would follow you to the ends of the earth," Zevran gave her a disarming smile.

"You know my reason for being here," Hawke shrugged, refusing to elaborate further.

"I'm here in the interests of the templars, so…" Broderick paused and Elswyth shook her head.

"Wow, you guys need lives," she grinned at their flabbergasted expressions, skipping ahead to look for a good spot to camp for the night. Zevran quickly caught up to her.

"The reason I am asking is because we will be passing by Antiva and I was wondering if we could make a pit stop," his request was an odd one and Elswyth slid her eyes in a sideways glance, appraising the assassin. "You said you have not seen Antiva before and it really is quite the gem," she cocked her head, studying him.

"Isn't that a bad idea considering the Crows are still a little sore about you ditching them and on top of that killing all the ones sent after you? Not to mention they hold no love for me or Hawke..." she asked, bringing a grin to his features.

"That adds to the adventure, do you not think so? Besides, they will not think that I am stupid enough to go walking right into Antiva," he added merrily and she gave him a pointed look as he grinned again.

"Let's go to Arlathan first, then re-supply in Antiva. Does that suit you?" she raised an eyebrow at him and he gave her a roguish grin.

"Absolutely."

They made excellent time through the Wildervale, the two elves bounded through the trees with their human rogue compatriot, stopping often to let Broderick catch up. For much of the trip Zevran took to traveling beside the templar to ease his mind while Reven and Elswyth disappeared ahead, showing the human the tricks of the forest. Broderick had feared more than once that the 'frolicking' rogues had left him behind.

"Only elves frolic, you tin waste basket," Hawke had retorted before melting into the forest behind a chuckling Elswyth. As dusk was falling they reached the Minanter River, quickly picking their way across it before settling down for the night. Hawke sat first watch while the rest of the group bedded down after their evening meal.

There was so much to consider. Without a doubt he knew he was gaining more than a passing attraction to the tiny Warden elf. She was an incredible woman with a will of iron, nerves of steel, and a challenging attitude. Buried deep beneath however beat a soft, gentle, scarred heart. He cursed the king who had damaged it so. Given the opportunity to have her he knew he would never let such a treasure go. She was wholly unique and extremely attractive to boot.

A soft sound drew his attention to where she sat, her head bowed in sleep, leaning up against a tree as was customary for her, once again caught up in a nightmare as she was every night. Some nights seemed worse than others, but always he would wonder what plagued her nightly hours so. Though shrouded by shadows cast through her thick hair he could still see the pained expression on her downturned face. Truly in the throes of sleep was one of the only times those expressions surfaced unguarded.

The insights he'd gained from listening to her stories and her 'private' chats with Merrill - yes he was a horrible person for eavesdropping - had given him a much better picture of who the Dalish Warden ranger was. Sudden movement brought him out of his musings as her head snapped back, banging against the tree and her legs stiffened, locking completely straight, a soft yelp escaping her. In a heartbeat he was by her side, unsure what to do as she started quivering.

"El," he called softly. When she didn't respond he cupped her face, running a calloused thumb across the soft skin of her cheek. "El, wake up," he whispered more forcefully. As though in a panic her eyes shot open and the edge of a blade tickled the stubbly hair on his neck. "

"El, it's ok, it's just me," he didn't move, letting her adjust to wakefulness, his hand still on her face. Sweat beaded her brow and comprehension penetrated her eyes for a split second before they widened again.

"Darkspawn!" Reven and Elswyth were already on their feet as Broderick and Zevran shook sleep away and armed themselves. Moments later the throaty growl of one of the foul creatures heralded their arrival and the group sprang into action, dodging away from the black mists to avoid their sneak attacks. The grinning features of a Hurlock rose above her before being blown backward by the force of her point blank shot, sending him head over feet. It was a small group of darkspawn so they dispatched them quickly. As the last one gurgled and fell over, Elswyth shakily relaxed her combat stance.

"Burn the bodies. Torch the ground they erupted from and move the camp. I don't detect any more but…" she wavered just enough for Hawke to catch it. "I'll be back… I need to…" her voice trailed off and she looked around helplessly before turning around and melting into the darkness in the direction of the river.

Hawke immediately took off after her, determined to get answers. Broderick looked at Zevran in confusion, but the assassin just shrugged and moved to do as she had asked. Having traveled with her long enough, he knew about her nightmares and what caused them. No need to make things worse by complicating matters.

Elswyth collapsed to her knees by the water, her bow and quiver clattering to the ground before plunging her hands into the icy river, heedless of her bowyer's glove and gauntlets. Dimly she registered the sound of Hawke, his tread easily recognizable to her now, approaching as she splashed water on her face, trying to rid herself of the images burned behind her eyelids. Large, sickly yellow elven eyes, achingly familiar stared back at her conscious. Quietly he sat beside her and regarded her carefully.

"Something you wanna tell me?" he wasn't sure she was going to respond, she didn't move for a very long time.

"I'm a Warden, I can't-"

"Bullshit. Anders tried pulling that crap on me too. Only thing is he didn't suffer from terrifying nightmares every single night," she looked away. "Try again." He wasn't leaving her alone until she told him.

"Wardens are only supposed to dream during two times: during a Blight and their Calling," she refused to look at him.

"Ok, that one you're going to have to explain. I don't know what a 'Calling' is."

"It's when the Warden knows their time is up," her voice was so quiet. "When the dreams begin again then it's time to descend to the deeproads for their last battle. Only mine never stopped. Ten years I've been plagued by them, every night. At first they were visions of the archdemon, shrieking that 'song' all the darkspawn refer to. Post-Blight however they morphed into this never ending struggle against the taint and foulness. Some nights aren't as traumatic as others…" she paused, wiping the dripping water from her face. "Tonight I saw Tamlen again," she frowned, closing her eyes, but that only brought the image of his handsome face, twisted and blackened into sharper relief. "Why won't they just return to the deeproads like they're supposed to? I killed Urthemiel. I'd know if they'd found the next one and it's not possible so soon…" Hawke looked at her oddly.

"Urthemiel?"

"The archdemon. The old god. They call to the darkspawn to free them from their bonds in the earth. When they find one it becomes an archdemon and begins the Blight," she laughed humorlessly. "The blood of an old god beats in my veins. Andoral, archdemon of the fourth Blight," she stood, turning her back to his shocked expression. "The closest guarded secret of the Grey Wardens. That's what the Joining is. That's how I was 'saved' from the darkspawn plague. That's why a Warden can never leave. We all will follow the Calling eventually because in time… our bodies succumb to the taint," she looked out over the water and wrapped her arms around herself as though she were cold.

"Now, thanks to Larius," she glanced over her shoulder at him pointedly, "I fear that we don't actually die. Instead we live on as abominations like Larius and Utha. That we actually become darkspawn… become one of them," she shivered, shutting her eyes. "I never wanted any of this, trapped in a fate bearing down on me, knowing full well it's coming, and nothing I can do will stop it or change it. Sometimes I feel in retrospect I should have just died and not gone through with the Joining…" Reven appeared at her side and forced her gently to turn and face him.

"Never say that. Don't even think that," she refused to look at him still. "Look, you've heard enough about duty and how many lives you've saved. I won't repeat any of that to you, but I will say this… I'm so glad I met you," something in his voice made her hazard a glance up at him, slightly confused. He nodded down at her. "Yep, I'm gonna be selfish and say I think you're an amazing person and I'm glad you tripped over me. Don't care what anyone else thinks, you've made my life happier and more fun," darkly she glanced away and he sighed heavily.

"El," he ran a hand through his unruly hair uncomfortably, only succeeding in pulling more tendrils free from his braids, "I know… all this impending death and doom looming over you is… repressive and hard to bear… and frankly if it were me I'd probably be bawling my eyes out in a corner," Elswyth couldn't help snorting at the image, a small smile breaking her features despite the situation. "But… just tell me... anything… and I'll try to help," his expression was so serious and she blinked up at him a few times, wondering where the gruff, sarcastic Hawke went and who this nice guy was. Abruptly he poked the bridge of her nose and she started, blinking rapidly. "From your expression I think I broke you," oh, there he was.

"I-… you just…" she paused, considering him in frustration as he grinned.

"I know, I'm a great guy, huh?" he asked, putting a hand on each hip in a heroic pose. Briefly she rubbed her face with her palm and raised a brow at him. Suddenly he was really close and he ran his thumb down the bridge of her nose before she could react. "I know you think so, I'll get you to admit it eventually," he grinned wider as she jerked back and almost lost her balance. Only his quick hand on her bare waist kept her from falling over and she sputtered at him, blushing madly.

"Well, I'm doing well! I've made you clumsy and speechless!" she batted his hand away as he laughed.

"You're gonna end up in the river in a second if you keep that up!" she threatened, willing her flaming cheeks to cool down. His arm snaked around her waist and dragged her against him.

"Only if you're in there with me and there's significantly less clothing involved," his forehead pressed against hers and she froze as her vision was filled with his stunning blue eyes. Why wasn't she pushing him away? Why did the pit of her stomach suddenly feel so warm?

"Unhand her, you perverted old man!" a loud, indignant voice made them both jump, their heads snapped back in the direction of camp to see Broderick standing there with a wickedly grinning Zevran in tow.

"Rogue stuff, you wouldn't understand," Reven rolled his eyes, very perturbed by the interruption, sighing quietly as Elswyth extracted herself from his grasp and he let her go reluctantly. For her part she was wondering when she'd managed to grab onto a whole fistful of his tunic.

"Cur, if you've so much as touched her-"

"I'm fine, Broderick," she approached him and forced him to lower the sword he was pointing at Reven.

"He should not have forced himself on you while you were distraught," he hissed only loud enough for her to hear.

"Oh, I've done plenty of 'rogue' things in positions such as that," Zevran quipped. "Most of them with quite a bit less armor… and not all with women," he waggled his brows at Broderick who made a very disturbed face. "Though I would say they were less 'rogue' and more 'assassin' activities," he crossed his arms and grinned widely. "Ah, truly many a heart has been left broken and slain in my wake," Broderick could only continue to stare aghast at the now dreamy expression on the Antivan's face.

"Come on, Broderick. Let's go make sure the camp is secure for the night," she dragged the still grimacing and horror stricken templar away.

Once they were alone, Zevran's expression grew deadly serious.

"She is master of her own will and she is strong, and thus it is not my place to tell her what she can and cannot do. But I swear to you and to her, if you hurt her, no one will find your remains," the former Antivan Crow leveled Hawke with an expression he had never seen him use before and he didn't doubt the elf's words for a moment.

"So, wait! Has he been flirting with me this whole time?" Broderick couldn't help exclaiming, much to her amusement.

"No, you're not his type. The pious amuse him, but he'd have made a move on you by now if he were interested," she gave him a lopsided grin over her shoulder, still dragging him by his sleeve. A gentle hand on her wrist stopped her at the edge of the firelight and she looked back to see him considering her, something deep in the depths of his warm brown eyes.

"Are you sure he did nothing to harm your honor, my lady?" the intensity of his gaze and the fact that she was still flustered from her proximity to Hawke caused her to fuzzily note that he wasn't wearing his plate, just a loose fitting, unlaced cotton shirt and breeches, all of which showed off the muscular frame of a man accustomed to heavy armor and melee combat. Her appraisal was not lost on him and he took a cautious step forward. Quickly she shook herself and let go of his sleeve.

"Thank you for your concern, but I'm fine, and you can call me Elswyth, none of this 'my lady' stuff, it makes me uncomfortable," his gentle, calloused hand, still on her wrist kept her from moving away and she looked at him curiously albeit apprehensively.

"Your life has been so fraught with suffering and sorrow. If you need anything do not hesitate to ask," talk about déjà vu, wasn't Reven just saying almost those exact words only moments ago? The memory brought warmth and a new round of butterflies to her stomach. Tenderly he took her tiny hand between his large ones, stepping a little closer. Why was this happening to her? Two in one night?

"Broderick, I… thank you, but-" Hawke cleared his throat gruffly from a short distance away and Elswyth snatched her hand back, blushing furiously.

"Look who's being inappropriate now?" Reven had a decidedly annoyed expression on his face as he strolled by them.

"Do not compare me to you, serah," Zevran handed Elswyth her bow and quiver, an apologetic expression on his face. She thanked him silently and before any of them knew it she had disappeared.

"What the hell is wrong with you two?" neither man had ever heard Zevran growl like that before and they both stared at him, stunned. "I think she has had enough and she doesn't need your pathetic pissing contest on top of it all to confuse her. She has lost everything she ever held dear. Do not make things worse by making her have to choose between the two of you."

The three men settled down for the night in uncomfortable silence. Sometime in the wee hours of the morning Elswyth returned and relieved Zevran from watch, mutely watching the camp while her little party slept.

With the dawn came ominous clouds that began to dump torrential rains on them midway through the morning. The air had a forbidding nip to it as they continued their trek north, signaling the rapid approach of winter. By mid-afternoon Elswyth was scouting for a dry place to rest, the sniffles of her uncomplaining companions having not gone unnoticed. The group remained uncomfortably silent while they sojourned to the cave she'd discovered.

Once they were situated inside she threw her cloak over her shoulders and soldiered back out into the downpour to find dry firewood. The silence was stifling as the three men sat, dripping in the quickly darkening alcove, awaiting her return. Her appearance in the mouth of the cave set Broderick and Hawke into a flutter of motion, both to break the oppressive atmosphere as well as to help her set up camp and prepare dinner.

The group stripped out of wet clothes and wrapped in blankets to let their gear dry. Despite Zevran's attempts to lighten the mood they all remained broody. Long into the evening Elswyth rose, wrapped tightly in her blanket and moved to the entrance to the cave, watching the rain. A presence by her side drew her attention, but she didn't look over.

"I'm sorry if I made things worse for you," Reven's voice was so soft she could barely hear him even with her enhanced hearing. "If Broderick is what you…" he trailed off, not wanting to finish that sentence, not quite sure what had gotten into him. Slowly she shook her head.

"He's nice enough, but…" her head turned away, her wet hair hung in clumps around her face, revealing small windows of skin riddled with dark veins exposed. "Right now I think he's experiencing hero worship that he's misinterpreting," Reven looked at her, wishing he knew what she was thinking. "I appreciate both of your friendship and companionship greatly. It has been too long since I traveled a road with friends of a like mind," she paused, trying to gather her thoughts. "And so long as you and Broderick do not fight… no. You didn't make things worse for me." It took a lot of effort not to go do a victorious fist pump in the templar's face. Abruptly she glanced warily at him. "Don't go reading too much into that."

"Oh, much, much, much too late for that, my little Lady Grey," he gave her a huge grin as she sighed and left her to her thoughts.