*Got the weekend off but I have to admit that I was distracted by Hurricane Irene. A hurricane of any sort, even a cat 1 taking this track up the eastern seaboard is so unusual that I had a hard time concentrating on writing. I am a huge weather buff and knowing that one of my more devoted reviewers lives in the path of this mess just had me glued to the Weather Channel. Be safe.

Varric pulled open his tent flap and looking out at a surprisingly bright scene before turning his eyes up. What little he could see of the sky peeking from between the thick foliage of the canopy was blue, telling him that usual clouds pregnant with potential rain were for now at least absent. Sighing happily he sat on his step and began pulling on his boots. The rainy season had arrived in Seheron and the character of its precipitation had changed. Instead of occasional afternoon showers that were steady and over quickly there was now an almost constant threat of rain causing a gloom that signaled some types of trees to drop their leaves to litter the forest floor and begin growing new. Most however were evergreen, constantly replenishing themselves. The rain now was heavy, falling in hard downpours at first before settling into a heavy, steady shower that sometimes lasted hours.

Just as he finished pulling on his boots, habitually wiggling his toes to set them comfortably in the heavy leather, Fenris stepped out of Hawke's tent. Pausing to stretch and look up the elf looked more than comfortable with his environment, having not even bothered to button his shirt before coming out of the tent. Raising a hand to the elf Varric was unsurprised when he simply inclined his head and turned his step to leave the camp. He was Varric knew going to his own tent. Shaking his head, Varric thought back to a conversation he had had with Hawke about this. He had wondered why Fenris didn't just admit the obvious and either move into her tent or move her into his but Hawke had just shrugged. 'He needs his own space,' was all she said.

Over the months since Fenris's return, Varric had watched as the relationship between the two had deepened until Hawke he knew had become absolutely devoted to the elf. Though the elf was harder to read, often just as moody and skittish as he ever was, he wasn't as easily angered and Varric suspected that had a few influences. Tansina he knew was pleased with the turn of events, happy beyond measure that the lost and damaged elf her husband had come to respect enough to introduce into his family was finding a measure of the peace and happiness that Warrick himself had found. Even the universal attitude in the camp toward the man had begun to shift with the obvious endorsement of both Hawke and Jerost. Although there was still a general nervousness, Fenris was now enjoying a quiet and gradual acceptance. 'Tansina and Rionna's obvious trust sure doesn't hurt,' Varric mused to himself. That a child innocently gave her unconditional love was nothing to sway them, but that Fenris so gently treated her, constantly accommodated her and without thought came to her assistance in any situation were the factors that had most softened the view of him. Varric suspected that Fenris had no clue that the light touch of these three strong, determined women was probably most responsible for the obvious taming of the wilder parts in him.

Looking back up once more Varric wondered if he would make it to Jerost's camp where he habitually went for breakfast before the Seheron changed her mind and the rains moved back in.

Taking advantage of the break in the monotonously dreary weather that this one determinedly bright sunny morning afforded, Hawke and Tansina had decided a picnic lunch was in order. Grabbing up anything they had on hand that could be made into some portable meal they hadn't wasted time drafting both Varric and Fenris to help. Before long they were all in the one open place close by - the practice field. Even the damp ground couldn't slow them down as Tansina came prepared with a large piece of the same waterproofed canvas that was used to make the tents. Laying it out before covering that with softer sheets, held down in the breeze by rocks and fallen limbs, it didn't take long for the feasting to begin. Soon, everyone well sated, they were lazing about in the extraordinarily humid heat, all knowing that this same humidity would make them pay for their fun later in the day when it created a thunderstorm. Rionna was running about in the now tall wild grass, plucking the flowers that the rain had unleashed on the whole of Seheron.

"Hawke!" she chirped waving her over. "Come here!"

Sighing, not really wanting to move in the heat she squinted up at Fenris from where she lay with her head on his knee. He was smirking down at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"I think," he stated with exaggerated levelness, "You have been summoned."

Groaning as she pulled herself up, she groused, "I'm the one supposed to be summoning people."

"I don't think she's impressed with titles Hawke," Fenris chuckled.

Thinking about that for a moment Hawke shrugged.

"Well that's good. Neither am I." Stretching and glancing out to the shade where Tansina sat with Varric playing with Leto. "Mine sure didn't make a mark on me." Standing she wandered off to find out what the little girl wanted.

Watching her go Fenris sighed. He still found himself occasionally amazed at not only the changes in his life, but that anyone would want to hold out a hand to help. That a woman the likes of Marian Hawke ever gave him a thought spoke so much to her character that the fact she was a mage was least of his worries. Until the rain had set in he had started joining her for her early morning practice rituals, not only to keep his own body and muscle memory sharp, but also help teach her the best ways to defeat a warrior such as himself. Every evening she sat patiently, reading to him from the first of four books or helping him learn to recognize the letters by having him painstaking sketch them out in the dirt around the fire. As often as not his nights were spent curled protectively around her, sometimes needing that physical contact after what he had learned from her reading. But other times he needed space, time to think about things and get some perspective. Those nights he would return to his own tent, laying on his own bed alone and staring up at the slope of the tent in the dark. No matter she always seemed to understand.

Turning his attention away from Hawke as she knelt down in the grass with Rionna to Tansina and Varric, he was had to suppress a smile when he saw that Varric was holding Leto up above him, making faces and pulling the smiling baby down to touch noses before lifting him again. Hawke had sat him down before the first time she had read to him from Danarius's journal and explained to him the significance of that name. Leto, he mused, understanding now why it had so discomforted him. It didn't feel… right to him. He wasn't that person anymore he was sure though they hadn't gotten to those parts of the books. No, he suspected he would be forever Fenris even if the origins of that name still chaffed mightily. It was… comfortable now and probably far more accurate. When Tansina glanced up to see the serious expression he'd taken on at the direction of his musings her own smile died, eyebrows knotting. Seeing this Fenris shook his head slightly to say he was fine and silently reflected that his name was far better given away than it would ever be kept. Let someone try to prove its meaning inaccurate for Warrick's son and they would absolutely deal with him.

Tansina might not have understood the suddenly broody expression that Fenris carried but she very well understood the fierce one that flitted across his face as he went back to watching Varric and her son. She recognized it from her husband, who had for weeks carried a similar one after Rionna's birth. The helplessness he had felt during her hard labor had translated into a hyper-vigilance once it was certain that he wasn't about to lose his wife and child and it had taken weeks before he had relaxed into fatherhood. She knew that it would please her husband that Fenris was so protective of his family and she was suddenly sad. Looking at the happy smile on Leto's face, a face that every day looked more and more like Warrick, she wished not for the first time that things had been different.

Hawke sat crosslegged with Rionna nestled in her lap, patiently showing the girl how to weave the flowers she had collected into chains she could use to make necklaces and crowns. The six year old had just enough dexterity to get through it and soon was making her own with a little encouragement. She was so lost in concentration that she had fallen silent as she worked and Hawke watched over her as flowers of all types and colors began taking shape. When she smiled brightly up at her and popped up to lay her first creation over Hawke's head, carefully working it past her ears, Hawke was completely unprepared when with crashing sound something came falling out of the thick underbrush that lined the edges of the clearing farthest from the camp. She had just enough time to register bronze skin covered with smeared red bodypaint and a healthy set of horns before she snatched Rionna up and began backing up slowly. When a the head raised and a pair of brilliant violet eyes hooded under a heavy brow fell on her she knew beyond any shadow of any doubt she was in trouble.

"Fenris!"

Fenris was already on his feet, the sound of the Kossith falling through the brush having set him from relaxed to ready, his hand landing instinctively on the sword he had laid next to him. Once he'd seen Hawke snatch up Rionna and back away he hadn't needed to see precisely what has happening because she blocked his view, he knew that she wouldn't panic without reason. Once he had rolled up to his feet and saw the form before her, just starting to pull himself up with a sword in one hand Fenris came close to losing all sense of himself as his brands flared brilliantly. His sword raised menacingly he silently charged the threat he saw to his newly founded world. The wild eyed snarl on his face made an impression on the stoic Qunari because he wasted no time getting to his own feet and taking a stance to defend himself against the smaller, faster and glowing elf and at the impressive sight of this Kossith on his feet Hawke began backpeddling faster. Before either man could do anything another form ran from the dark of the forest, throwing herself in front of the Kossith warrior and facing down Fenris with yellow eyes unflinching. Fenris faltered. A woman? A Qunari woman? They did not fight he knew and this one was protecting the warpainted man, knowing that any Fog Warrior on Seheron would know this and the warrior behind her allowed it. Positioning himself between this unbelievable pair and Hawke, he stood ready to cut them both down should either so much as breathe wrong. Behind him he heard Hawke put Rionna down, calmly telling the crying girl to go to her mother and ask that Varric go get Jerost. He heard the little girl run, heard Hawke as she took up a stance behind and to the side of him, studying the pair as hard as he was.

Now that they were apparently at a stalemate, the woman whispered something to the man she was leaned against. He looked at her with an expression that clearly said he thought she had lost her mind as he replied in a gravely voice. Fenris's brows drew together momentarily as he understood what had passed between them and waited to see what would happen. She looked over her shoulder at the man, voice harsh as she repeated herself and held out her hand. Sighing, obviously not happy he turned his sword over to her, firing a sharply defiant look at Fenris as he did. Letting one eyebrow raise slightly Fenris watched warily as she took the sword in both hands and took a tentative step closer before holding it up, her head bowed over in supplication.

"I… means no… harm?" she struggled with the common tongue. "I… Tal Vashoth."

Fenris took that in, deciding that if she was not only willing to surrender their only weapon but also shame herself by showing she had a less than perfect grasp of the common tongue, he was going to be the last person to refuse the gift. The rest of it could wait.

"Hawke," he growled without taking his eye off the two, "Take the weapon."

Cautiously Hawke approached the much taller woman, carefully taking hold of the sword. Pausing once her hands were on the weapon, Hawke quickly studied the woman that towered over her. She refused to meet Hawke's eye, looking instead at a point somewhere around her shoulder. When Hawke didn't pull the sword from her she released it, dropping her arms and as Hawke backed away she realized just how obviously strong even this Kossith woman was. Fenris watched eyes narrowed as the man followed Hawke's movements alertly, now ignoring him completely and felt uncomfortable that this man was on the same page as the woman. Hawke must have been thinking the same thing.

"Fenris?"

"Take that somewhere out of their reach," he gritted, "And find Jerost."

Nodding at his back, she backed slowly away, not wanting to but understanding the sense in what he was asking. As soon as she had a decent distance she turned and sprinted to the tree line on the far side. Tansina and Varric were gone, and she knew it wouldn't be long before Jerost would be there so she planted the sword deep in the soil and turned back to silently watch.

Fenris turned his attention back to the woman as she stepped back again, head still bowed and eyes on the ground at his feet. Now that Hawke was gone he felt himself relax just a little, knowing that if anything went wrong it was only himself at risk. Her expression was stoic, but her yellow eyes which now refused to meet his were anything but resigned to her situation. They were sharp and alert and very intelligent. Turning his eye to the male, his stoicism was tinted with just a hint of defiance, just a flicker of recognition as he looked down his broad sculpted nose at the elf. Studying what was left of his warpaint after who knew how long in the forest and how many rainstorms, Fenris realized this man was a member of Ben-Hassrath, the Qunari guard. Looking back at the woman, her own 'roll' not so obvious he realized that it was entirely possible that he was her guard. That he did as she requested even when he didn't care to was telling. It was not unusual in the outer fringes of the Qunari society for important administrators and priests to have their own guard in case of a raid by the Fog Warriors or an outright attack by Tevinters. But if that was the case he should have cut her down the second she had turned Tal-Vashoth. Looking back to the man, Fenris cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Ben-Hassrath," he grated harshly in accented Qunari. "Why do you not relieve this woman of her shame?"

That got both their attention as their heads snapped back a little in surprise to hear their language, muddled as it was by a Tevinter accent from this unusual elf. The man regarded Fenris thoughtfully a second before growling contemptuously, "Tevinter." Fenris refused to be baited and simply repeated his question, ignoring the woman completely as she quietly studied him.

"Her shame is my own," he finally snarled, lip curling in disdain that he had to explain this. "I am Tal-Vashoth."

Fenris regarded him a moment before nodding, then with a voice dripping with equal venom he announced, "I am not Tevinter."

Both looked hard at the elf a moment before the man nodded though his expression did not change. He understood that this elf was also Tal-Vashoth even if he did not openly admit it. Suddenly his sharp violet gaze snapped to a point over Fenris's shoulder and he knew that Jerost had arrived. Now that he paid attention he could hear the steps of all the warriors in the camp with him and as they approached, he stepped back and allowed his tense stance to relax, his brands falling dark and muscles trembling with the fatigue he had until now refused to acknowledge. Resheathing his weapon as the varied weapons of the camp took careful aim at the two he turned and laid a hand on Jerost's shoulder, whispering "Tal-Vashoth." Jerost's chin shot out just a touch to show he understood as he stood studying the two.

"We see them occasionally," he whispered back. "They never cause us trouble, always run back into the forest. Why are they here?"

Fenris glanced over his shoulder at the woman, who now met his gaze thoughtfully.

"I don't know."

Hawke stood studying the woman as the others debated this newest turn of events. Both Tal-Vashoth sat on a bench outside the tent, a dozen weapons trained nervously at them as they calmly ignored them. Her open curiosity was returned without reservation now and the woman closely scrutinized both her and Fenris who stood next to her looking into the tent.

"They don't understand," he murmured. "They are more concerned that she knew how to find the camp, they don't understand the significance of the rest of what she told us."

"Jerost knows," she returned quietly. "But he has to deal with the imminent threat first. He's going to have to move the camp, because if she knew then others might as well. His first concern will always be his people."

Fenris paused to look at her, studying her profile a moment. She had been remarkably quiet, watching in silence as the Tal-Vashoth were separated and questioned individually. Fenris was not the only person in the camp that had a working knowledge of the Kossith language and it hadn't taken long to understand that the male was unwilling to respond in more than monosyllables. The female however, she had sat and told them a tale that if true had implications beyond Seheron. Hawke had taken it in with an inscrutable look that had him wondering what was going on in her head.

"What of you?"

Turning to look at him he watched while more than a few things flickered across her face before it went to stone cold.

"I am her Champion," she stated flatly. "Their safety will always come first, even before that of her Viscount."

Fenris blinked, not at all sure he understood that.

Turning suddenly, Hawke took three steps into the tent and bought her fist down on the table, causing wooden cups to jump and in some cases to spill their contents. In the sudden silence she looked at Jerost across the table levelly.

"I'm leaving. And I'm taking her at least with me."

Jerost held up a hand to stop the protests her action was already starting to create.

"By all means, take them both if they care to go with you. I can think of few things I would rather not have underfoot than Tal-Vashoth. The Qunari will follow them like your Mabari trying to kill them off. But," Jerost's head ticked to the side as he regarded her. "Why?"

"An Armada?" Hawke fired back. "If she is to be believed they are building an Armada, and that isn't just to take out Tevinter and you know that. With an Armada they can literally overthrow the whole of Thedas. The only thing that sent them packing the last time were mages," she paused to let that sink in. "Magic in vast quantities brought heaping down on their horned heads was the difference and now the Chantry has lost control of its mages, lost control even of its Templars if Isabella's reports are to be believed. There is nothing to stop them Jerost. Nothing."

"You mean to warn them," Jerost nodded thoughtfully.

"No," Hawke ground out as she turned on her heal, "I mean to save them, from themselves if necessary." Without another word she left the tent, Fenris staring after her as surprised as the rest. In the corner where he tended to take up residence so as not to miss anything, Varric chuckled and downed the last of his dwarven ale before following her.