Alistair had claimed that there was a way to tame the nightmares, at least the archdemon related ones. He was sweet enough, sitting up by the fireside late at night as she stretched the awake hours she spent to their breaking point, simply defining the tricks he had been told of to end the Archdemon influenced nightmares as they sat.

He didn't seem to understand that it wasn't the Archdemon she feared when she closed her eyes.

Laeti sighed, the hours of her awake time stretched to the bone, and thus, she could do nothing but retire to her tent after bidding Alistair a good night. He was to sweet to tell him that his ideas and charms weren't working, or rather, they DID work but proved ineffective to the problem at hand. Besides her unwilling mind was reluctant to mar his bumbling and widely pleased features with the fact he couldn't help her. Following after the thought was the fact that she didn't desire the conversation that would no doubt bloom forth.

Dalish didn't need help. At least not proper Dalish.

She didn't need help, and as such, she strode past Zevran, who had a preposition on his lips as she strode past him. In truth, the both of them desired rather strongly to ask the other to repeat the night before. But, as the night had been effective, her back had been healed completely, and thus neither could think of an excuse to tell themselves or the other.

"Good night, Zevran." Laeti nodded to him silently, the starlight dancing in her ever bright misty eyes. "Good night, Laeti." Zevran gave a small smirk, taking a seat beside the cackling fire, entirely confused by how disappointed he was that he had not been invited into her tent for a second night.

The feeling was mutual.

As always, her exhaustion over took her as she laid upon her newly healed back on her bed roll. It seemed that her qualms for a dreamless night or simply to keep sleep at bay a moment longer were refused and ignored by the over riding fact that she was, in a powerful sense, extremely tired. It was to be expected, naturally, she did travel day and night alike, often fighting extensively with large ambushes, as well as sparring with Zevran when the time allowed. On top of that, she was constantly sorting through the madness that was her mind, in be said, it no doubt didn't particuarly help that she pushed sleep aside until she could no longer push it aside any further, and thus slept fairly minimally.

No, it wasn't the archdemon she feared in her dreams.

She had been different back then.

Laeti's ears perked ever so slightly, her skin tanned slightly from the sun that peeked behind the rustling green leaves that shifted every so slightly in the gentle breeze. Fereldon was a cold and bitter place, with quick winds and even quicker rains. It seemed that more often then not the soft soil beneath her boots melted into thick and stinking mud that clung to any flesh and clothing it could find. Every muscle in herself was tight, taunt with suspense, a bow drawn back in her hand with an arrow notched ever so delicately on the string. The bow itself was beloved, decorated in carvings of great value to herself, with a strand of leather twisting it's way around the iron wood in delicate precision, tying in slender feathers of crows at the end with colored beads knocking against one another as her breath shook the bow ever so slightly.

The bark felt rough on her back, even through her light armour, the chill in the air raising bumps on her exposed arms and legs and with a heavy will power, she willed herself not to shiver as the cold sank it's teeth deeper into her flesh. No, she scolded herself, she was letting herself get so worked up in miserable notes once again! Tamlen so often scolded her playfully for it, it seemed that if she was left to herself she would worry herself over a single thing, and overwhelm upon herself with it's existence. Yes, this hunt was miserable, yes, she had a feeling of foreboding around her, but she needed to ignore it. Letting out a silent breath, she allowed the chill to seep into her bones, turning her skin to stone and her heartbeat slowed. With a deliberately slow breath back in, she gave herself over completely to the area around her.

Her senses melding to the world around her completely.

The cold didn't affect her as her ears moved ever so slightly to the sounds of the forest. Listening attentively to the chirping of the far away birds, to the gentle roar of a coming wind that blew her long red hair around her in tangled wisps. A halla's near silent footsteps echoed softly through the air, and smaller animals scampered loudly as they darted from one hiding place to another unsettlingly.

Only one thing would set them off like that.

Shemlen.

Dirty, filthy Shelmen. Laeti despised them the most of all of the Sabrae clan, they were crude, unnecessary, obnoxious drunken fools prone to violence and greed. She had yet to meet a single one that was worth her time to meet in all the trades she'd been involved in with the human settlements. In truth, she had the most reason to despise them, they had, after all, attack her parents before she was born, those filthy Shemlen and their subservient pet Flat Ears. Her father, the keeper of the clan, had been killed, but her mother had escaped as fruit for his dying efforts, and remained in the clan long enough to deliver her child. Before, seeing her child's face, couldn't bear to be reminded of her lost love constantly, and disappeared from the clan entirely.

No one had seen her since.

Laeti had been raised by another, and though bore no ill will to Ashalle for such, and rather respected the person entirely. Her thoughts often fell to those she never knew, an amulet hanging from her hip as proof, oh, how often she fingered that little trinket of her father's! It had been the only thing left from either pair, and in her childhood, Laeti had many times created fanciful tales of a deeper meaning for the amulet then a simple trinket that had been left behind.

She despised Shemlen.

Nothing would change that.

The footsteps pounded heavily on the ground as the Shemlen, who having been spooked like wild game from a bear sprinted the direction of the two dalish hunters. Tamlen was several trees to her side, and gave her a silent and slightly worrisome look. He didn't like how she acted around Shemlen.

Very few around her that knew her tendencies did.

He turned his back from the cover he hid behind, evenly and silently striding out as the human came to a sliding and bumbling stop at his feet. Shemlen in similar clothing came to a skidding stop behind the man as well, each having used different paths. He could chase the humans from the area before Laeti got annoyed, he supposed, but, they were so close to the camp that they posed a danger, so perhaps her methods were neccessary. Tamlen gave the Shemlen a disgusted and belittling look, what right did they have to hunt out their clan after all their kin have done? It was clear to him that they were searching for the dalish camp that was such a short distance to their backs.

"It's a dalish!" The first shemlen exclaimed in shocked surprise, scrambling back and standing with slow stupid and clumsy movements, shaking with fear. Tamlen, with his blonde hair and black tattoos raised his drawn bow to match the movements of the shemlen.

"And you three are somewhere you shouldn't be!" Tamlen stated back, the dark tattoos on his cheeks making his grin seem to stretch farther then it deserved. "Let us pass, elf, you have no right to stop us!" Oh, that hit a tender spot. If they thought that they would get away after stumbling so close to their camp, after insulting them, as well as reminding them so clearly that they had no lands to return to, to call their own?

Not a very wise move. But, then again, perhaps all shemlen were born idiots.

"No? We'll see about that, won't we?" Tamlen snapped back, he wasn't the most patient around shemlen, but he wasn't anything like Laeti. Her feet eased beside his own, her eyes sharp and cold, her grip tightening ever so slightly upon the wood of the bow in her hands at the comment towards Tamlen.

How ridiculous to be protective of him. He was marked of age, with tattooed skin, while she was not. She was to be classified as a child, to fit the part, feel no lust, feel no desire, feel no kinship beyond companionship because she didn't have her tattoos on her features. The truth of the matter being that she didn't desire the knives to peel back her flesh, and couldn't decide upon one elven god to have on her features for the rest of her days. She was to be a child...

But still.

"I found these shemlen lurking in the bushes, bandits no doubt." Tamlen turned his head slightly to Laeti's beautiful features, not allowing his gaze to wander from the three wiggling shemlen before him. Sickeningly, one of the shemlen, a red headed one gave Laeti a slow, deliberate look over the entirety of her body.

Not for the first time did Tamlen come to realise just how revealed her body was in that armor.

Damn shemlen. He thought maliciously, feeling rather strange to have so suddenly sparked a fury to a simple gaze. Laeti shook her head to Tamlen slightly, her red hair falling down her back animatedly. "Bandits come armed." She directed his attention to the men before her. The men gave a relieved look, latching on silently to the idea that one of the Dalish before them would help them out of their prediciment.

"We aren't bandits, I swear! Don't hurt us!" The men begged, stammering over their own tongues. Both archers eased along the open field, weight shifting with each stride as they drew closer and aimed higher for the hearts of the men, each in perfect sync. They had always shared a connection, and no longer did either of them doubt or deny it.

When they hunted, they were one.

"You shemlen are pathetic. It's hard to believe you ever drove us from our homeland." Tamlen breathed a short breath, eyes narrowing to the three before him. "W-we've never done nothing to you Dalish! We didn't even know this forest was yours!" The balding man stammered, moving his arms to and fro in a nervous gesture.

"The forest isn't ours, fool. You've stumbled too close to our camp. You shems are like vermin. We can't trust you not to make mischief." Tamlen declared, his feet as well as Laeti's sliding to a stop as they stood before the men, their bodies clearly before them. The last time mercy had allowed one of the shemlen to leave while knowing their location, there had been an attack.

People had died.

"What do you say, lethallan? What should we do with them?" Tamlen didn't even have to look at Laeti to know what she'd say. "Allow them to speak a time longer, Lethallin, I'm sure they have a story to tell us. You always like those, eh, Tamlen?" Laeti muttered back, amusement flashing in her features.

Never did she promise they would survive the encounter.

It didn't matter what she felt. She would not endanger those dear to her for the sake of some shemlen, or even for the sake of her emotions that so despised killing the unarmed. It was simpler not to feel, not to have those inclinations to do what she so saw as right. It was wrong to endanger those that were innocent for some whimpering, whining men before her. So, why did it feel like she was being weighed down by such choices? She cleared her mind of those thoughts, she had made a choice, same as she always did, and she would stand by it.

Besides, she had desired to know just what lie they would concoct.

Hours later, with her arrows freshly retrieved, stained with blood and put away in quivers, Laeti and Tamlen had discovered the dark cave the shemlen had told them. Laeti was the one to hesitate, the one to stand at the opening, remarking upon the eerie, death like foreshadowing feeling that seeped from the end of the cave in such abundance. But Tamlen's curiosity had them press on, and as she could not deny him, she swallowed her fear and lead on.

Laeti was the one to hesistate, and insist they turn back as the dead lay re dead upon their feet. She had been the one to demand his curiosity be sated upon the strange stone sculptures that crept into her heart with their cold eyes. Tamlen has once again insisted that something else was to be seen, and urged her to continue on.

He knew that when he looked at her like that, with his lip quirked just so, she would do all she asked.

She had allowed it, leading the pair into the large room. A terrible beast had awaited them, half bear, half grotesque monster of disgusting proportions and strength. When it's pelt was once again pressed to the ground, bleeding and dead with eyes wide open, Laeti had loudly been the one to demand they left. Tamlen had seemed so enraptured with the mirror that he strode on feet that weren't his towards the surface, eyes sparkling with interest at the city underground, mumbling aloud his discovery without a second thought.

It was here, within his grasp.

The lost past that the Dalish so longed for, surely it was worth a little shaking fear to hold it in his palm?

It wasn't his palm that touched it.

It was hers.

Laeti called out, bolting upright in her tent, red hair falling around her in mad strands as her entire body shook with fear. Settling her gaze on the dying embers, she willed herself to stand, willed her arms to move from her knees as she whimpered, holding her own body as close as she could.

The dream continued as if she'd never woken, her cursed mind replaying the memory, the ghost of the emotions wrapping around her in wisps as her short call rang through the heavy air. She'd felt something behind her palm, something evil just behind the slick coolness of the glass.

Something pulling her in.

Laeti strode out of the tent, knocking the tent flap aside and ignoring the coolness of the night that stroked her exposed skin in her clothes she wore to bed. Glancing upwards, the dalish woman gave a miserable sigh. The sun was starting to come up.

She'd survived another night.

Supposing that it was early enough to wait for the others to wake, Laeti sat herself by the dying embers of the fire, absently starting the fire a new with much skill, recalling those hands outside of hers, instructing her what to do, how to make the fire stand and dance. Oh, she could just feel the palms of Tahras' hands behind hers, even now. Laeti leaned back a silent moment, eyes slipping over the sparking flames in silent thought.

Tamlen's hands had slipped over hers back then, and with a ferocity he'd torn her from the mirror's surface, knocking her to the ground behind him as the world flashed and a voice called out.

When they'd returned, he was no where to be seen, and her amulet lay crushed beneath her weight.