Author's Note - I finally found the time to finish this chapter! To those of you following my story, thank you so much for your patience! Just as a side note, even if I have long periods between postings, I will finish the story. One of my elves uses quite a few elven words so I thought I'd post the meanings for you. Bear with me on this as I've taken the meanings from the wiki so I'm going on what they have there.
vhen'alas – term for land that the elves have claimed as their own
Elvhen – Elven name for their own race
Lethallan/Lethallin – similar to 'cousin' or 'clansman' (Lethallan for females, Lethallin for males)
Shemlen'alas – "Dirty humans"
Ma halam – "You are finished"
Ar tu na'lin emma mi – "I will see your blood on my blade"
Halam sahlin – "This ends now"
Ma nuvenin – "As you wish"
Abelas – an apology ("I'm sorry" or "Forgive me")
Eluvian – ancient Elven mirror thought to have been used for telecommunication and/or travel between cities
Elgar'nan – the Elven God of Vengeance
Ghi'alas – "Dirty beasts"
Da'len – "child"
Dareth Shiral – "Safe journey"
I hope you enjoy this loooonnnnggg overdue chapter and, as always, reviews are always welcome!
Chapter 25 – A Shaky Alliance
"Stop where you are, shemlen! You go no further!"
In unison, Loghain and Parean immediately brought their horses to a halt with a quick tug on their reins. With a loud whinny, Red lowered his massive head and laid his ears back in annoyance; the muscles in his powerful legs flexing and pulsing as he pawed the ground in anger. In a display of her own disapproval, Chance breathed a hearty snort, shaking her head roughly in an effort to free her reins from Parean's grasp as she gnawed against her bit.
Loghain gave the young elven man standing before them an appraising glance. He imagined the boy to be a scout as his small frame was sleek and thin, affording him the ability to be extremely agile. The severe cut of his short, sandy brown hair accentuated the length of his pointed ears and his facial markings looked disfigured beneath the harshness of his scowl. There was an air of confident intelligence about him and Loghain detected a glimmer of veiled curiosity behind the stern look in his azure eyes. Just as he was about to speak, he heard another voice call out from the woods.
"You approach the vhen'alas of the Elvhen. If you wish to live, turn around and return from whence you came."
Turning to identify the source of the voice, Loghain saw a young elven woman striding out of the woods, walking towards her companion. She stood at his side, holding a large, intricately carved bow in her hand as she retrieved an arrow from her quiver. Her straight, midnight black hair fell to her waist save for the front portion that sat just above her eyebrows. The deep purple facial markings etched into her sickeningly alabaster flesh only served to enhance the intensity of her striking periwinkle eyes. 'There is a ferocity in her glare that would rival even my own.' Loghain's eyes darted between the pair of elves, 'I should be able to deal with the boy, but this girl…'
"We mean you no harm and would speak with your leader." Loghain's commanding voice broke through the silence.
The young man made no attempt to mask the suspicion in his tone, "Who are you and what business have you with The Keeper?"
"We are Grey Wardens and our business with your Keeper is our own," Loghain replied flatly.
"Grey Wardens…" the girl spat with malice, "Has your kind not plagued our clan enough?" Her disgusted glare raked over Loghain and Parean as she nocked her arrow, "Tamlen, we cannot allow them to pass. To do so would only inflame the Keeper's grief." Contempt permeated her expression as she drew the bowstring back to her cheek, "Better that we kill them now so as to prevent them from alerting their fellow shems to our presence."
Parean sat silently at Loghain's side, her hands gliding effortlessly in the air. The familiar purple haze of her shield spell flickered to life around them. "It is pointless to attack. Your arrows cannot reach us."
"Slikia, stay your hand." Tamlen placed a firm grasp on her wrist. "They have given us no cause to attack…as of yet."
A look of genuine shock filled Slikia's expression; her incredulous gaze boring into his eyes, "Have you taken leave of your senses? Can you so readily cast aside the actions of their clan member?"
Tamlen breathed a heavy sigh, "No…I cannot…but slaying innocent members of their clan would serve no purpose."
Slikia's eyes burned through him with a venomous rage, "Did you care so little for Vanna that you would deny her justice?!"
"You dare?!" His words spewed from his lips with contempt, "Vanna was my wife! My love for her is beyond your ability to comprehend…" Overcome with sadness, his voice trailed off as his eyes began to glisten with tears.
Unmoved by his emotional display, Slikia's tone was cold and callous as she spat her reply, "And she was my sister. I cannot so easily forget the torment she endured in the hours before her spirit mercifully departed." She shut her eyes tight; her face twisted into a painful grimace, "The images of her body thrashing uncontrollably…her beautiful face distorted and grotesque as she suffered in agony…the sound of her voice, once calm and gentle, becoming harsh and jagged from her screams as she pleaded for relief…the look of stark terror in her eyes. They are forever seared into my consciousness."
"As they are in mine," Tamlen whispered with a long, solemn breath.
Her periwinkle eyes were hard and brimming with disgust as she glared first at Parean then at Loghain, "And their clansman, standing before The Keeper, bathed in his own arrogance and self-importance, so casually offering a cure but only if she agreed to his demands." With a fierce twist of her arm, she wrenched her wrist free from Tamlen's hand, "If you will not aid me then I will honor my sister and avenge her death on my own. It matters not that they are 'innocent'. Vanna was innocent as well and if I cannot bring an end to her murderer, it is fitting that I take his clansmen instead."
Tamlen stared at her, gesturing helplessly toward the Wardens with a quick sweep of his hand, "What would you have us do? Both are protected by a magical barrier."
Slikia's eyes narrowed and she flashed him a brief malevolent grin before pursing her lips and sending a short, high-pitched whistle into the air.
Red and Chance's ears pricked up at the sound; their nervous shuffling accentuating the tension of the moment. Within seconds a bevy of arrows flew silently through the air, pummeling Parean's shield from every direction. Both horses reared up, agitated and confused by the onslaught. Loghain's expert horsemanship made it a simple matter for him to regain control over Red. Parean managed to remain seated as Chance bolted toward the forest, only to be thrown from her saddle when Chance abruptly stopped at the road's edge.
"HOLD!" Slikia's voice rang out and her hand shot into the air, stopping the barrage of arrows in an instant. With a wave of her hand, several elven archers crept from the forest onto the road, surrounding Loghain with their bows at the ready.
Momentarily dazed from the fall, Parean shook her head to clear her mind and quickly surveyed her situation. Apart from a few scrapes, she was largely uninjured. Her right foot remained firmly wedged in the stirrup and her right arm was entangled in Chance's reins and the branches of a thorn bush. "Loghain," she called out, keeping her voice calm and steady, "Are you alright?"
"I am…for the moment," came his terse reply.
Unable to see him past Chance's hindquarters, Parean gently nudged the horse to the side. Her heart leaped at the sight of Loghain sitting tall atop Red with sword and shield in hand; his piercing icy blue eyes hard as steel and his expression a mask of stone. In her struggle to control Chance, her shield spell had dissipated leaving Loghain vulnerable to attack from the archers that now surrounded him. With a few deft movements of her free hand, her shield rapidly reformed around Loghain. Her attention focused on Loghain, Parean hadn't noticed Slikia's approach. She gasped in surprise then turned her head and scowled as Slikia firmly gripped her wrist.
The archer nearest to Slikia called out, "The barrier around him returns. What shall we do, Lethallan?"
Slikia stared down at Parean and chuckled softly, "We kill the mage. When she dies, the barrier will fall and the swordsman will be defenseless."
"Slikia! Stop this!" Tamlen bellowed as he rushed toward her.
"I shall put an end to your madness," Parean's calm, matter-of-fact tone sent a chill down Slikia's spine.
Slamming Parean's hand to the ground, Slikia pressed the end of her bow roughly against Parean's palm, pinning it in place. "And how do you presume to do that without the use of your free hand?" she scoffed sarcastically.
"Do you truly believe that will stay my hand?" Parean smiled in amusement at Slikia's shocked expression when flames from her fingers ignited the bow, reducing it to ashes.
Enraged, Slikia slammed her foot down on Parean's wrist with a crushing force, grinding it against the ground as Parean winced in pain. "That was my sister's bow!" Her eyes narrowed and a sinister, deathly growl slithered through her clenched teeth, "Shemlen'alas…Ma halam!"
Parean stared unflinching at the seething elf, "Attack me and I will freeze you solid and the arrow that Loghain currently has trained on you will shatter your body into pieces." In an effort to emphasize her claim, Parean instantly froze the branches and reins holding her right hand and shattered them with one quick tug of her arm.
Unable to resist the urge, Slikia glanced over her shoulder to see Loghain leveling his bow and arrow toward her. She knew that the archers would be powerless to stop his attack so long as the barrier remained. 'Even if they succeed in killing me, they will not escape with their lives.' Her thoughts were interrupted when Tamlen grabbed her arms from behind.
"It is over, Slikia." His voice was soft and soothing as he tried to calm her dark mood. "Please, Lethallan. You go too far." He had no time to react when she suddenly turned and threw him to the ground.
"You are almost right, Lethallin. It will soon be over…" she quietly grumbled, returning her gaze to Parean, "for her…or me." Grasping the hilt of her sword, she paused for an instant before unsheathing it and pointing the tip directly at Parean's heart.
Ice crystals began to form and swirl around Parean's hand, "If that is what you wish, then let us find out which is faster; your blade or my magic."
'Ar tu na'lin emma mi,' Slikia mused silently. Her body tensed and she screamed in a bloodcurdling tone, "Halam sahlin!" She moved to strike Parean but her attack was thwarted when Tamlen leaped on her, hurling them both to the ground. A streak of ice rushed past them, narrowly missing Tamlen and striking one of the archers squarely in the back.
Scrambling to her feet, Slikia stared at Tamlen for an instant. Her eyes were wild and filled with a maniacal rancor that bordered on insanity. "I will kill you for that!" She lunged toward him only to be sent staggering backward when his closed fist found its mark.
"Enough! This ends now!" Tamlen peered at her, unrepentant, as she rubbed her cheek; the skin already beginning to bruise from the force of his strike. "You are behaving as though you were a madman. You forget yourself."
"Vanna deserves her vengeance so that she may find peace in The Beyond." Her words carried more anguish than venom as she struggled to bring her emotions under control.
Tamlen's visage exhibited his utter chagrin, "Vengeance for Vanna, or for yourself? While I share your contempt for the shems, you know as well as I that Vanna would not want this. Your actions only bring dishonor to her memory and disgrace to our clan."
Realizing the truth in his rebuke, Slikia slowly lowered her head, "Ma nuvenin, Lethallin." With an authoritative tone, she called out to the archers surrounding Loghain, "Lower your arrows and disarm!" Though they were hesitant at first, the archers obeyed their leader's command.
"Thank you Lethallan." Tamlen rested a comforting hand on her shoulder, "We shall leave it up to the Gods to decide if there is vengeance to be had."
"If you're quite finished with all this foolishness, I would thank you to take us to your Keeper," Loghain intoned with biting sarcasm.
"Of course," Tamlen retorted, bowing in mock courtesy. "Give me a moment to aid your mage. Unless you prefer that her horse drags her through the forest?"
Loghain's irritation with the elves had gone far beyond its peak, "Do as you will. The sooner our business is concluded with your Keeper, the sooner we can leave your charming company."
Parean accepted Tamlen's extended hand, grateful that she could finally right herself and remove her foot from Chance's stirrup. "Thank you for your help," she smiled warmly. "And please forgive Loghain's callousness. He has little patience for interruptions in his duty."
Tamlen smiled in return, "His reaction is understandable as this was a bit more than a mere interruption. I would also ask forgiveness for Slikia. She has always been quick to anger, but she has become even more ill-tempered since Vanna perished."
"It would seem that we share something in common then," Parean chuckled, "we both are cursed to deal with insufferable people." Her smile faded as her jovial expression melted into one of sympathy, "I am sorry for the loss of your wife. Please tell me, who was this Warden that you spoke of and how is it that he caused her death?"
Tears began to well in Tamlen's eyes as he fought to keep himself in control, "If you truly wish to know, you should speak of it with the Keeper."
"Parean!" Loghain's aggravation was plainly evident in his tone, "Mount your horse and let's be done with this!"
When she turned to respond she noticed the archers attempting to move their frozen comrade. "No! Don't touch him!"
"Yes…that would be unadvisable," Loghain agreed with an amused smirk. "I am fairly certain that you would not be happy with the result."
Parean hurried over to the frozen elf and bathed his body with heat. Freed from his icy prison, the elf dropped to the ground in a violently shivering heap.
"T-t-th-a-nk y-y-ou," he stuttered through his fiercely chattering teeth.
Loghain stared at Parean; his eyes silently asking, 'What do you think you're doing?' as she began to unstrap the blanket from his saddle. She stared back at him and smiled sweetly with a silent, 'Attending to him.'
Completely ignoring Loghain's annoyed sigh, she set about wrapping the blanket around the trembling elf. "He should suffer no ill-effects and this should help to warm him. I am a healer and, if you wish, I can examine him once we have reached your camp."
Slikia roughly pushed Parean to the side, motioning for two of the archers to carry the fallen elf. "There will be no further need of your 'aide', Shem. We will attend to our clansman on our own."
"As you say," Parean replied flatly with a retreating bow. She trotted back across the road and, grasping the tattered remains of her reins, mounted Chance and returned to her place at Loghain's side.
Tension permeated the air as they made their way to the Dalish camp. Tamlen and Slikia were in the lead and the remaining elves surrounded Loghain and Parean. Keenly aware that, should the need arise, there would be little room to escape without a fight, Loghain began to devise attack plans and escape routes in his mind. His thoughts were interrupted when Parean placed a gentle hand on his arm.
"Loghain," she whispered, "we should speak with their Keeper about what happened with this Warden."
"That is not our purpose for being here," he replied quietly.
"Not at first, but now that we know about it…"
"No, Parean," he interjected sternly, "our duty is to affirm the Elven treaty. Nothing more. Whatever happened with another Warden is none of our concern."
"But if the possibility exists that there is another Warden…"
Loghain held up a hand to stop her, "Yes, if there is another Warden in Ferelden then it would to our benefit to locate him. It would also prove a fruitless task as you would, no doubt, reduce him to ashes the moment we found him."
Parean's face flushed a bright crimson at his comment. She was indignant that he would believe her capable of such an act and shameful at the realization that he was right. "If their claim is truthful, he needs to be punished for his crime."
Loghain's expression was hard and he spoke with finality, "That is not our judgment to make and I will not discuss it further. When we meet with The Keeper, you will not speak of it. The matter is settled. Understood?"
Anger flashed in her eyes as she stiffly nodded, "Understood, Ser." She turned away from him, muttering under her breath, 'You can be such a sodding stubborn and infuriating bastard at times.'
"Yes…yes I can," Loghain remarked quietly with a self-satisfied chuckle. "And yet you still love me. What would you imagine that says about you?"
The corners of Parean's mouth twitched with a sarcastic smirk, "That I take great pleasure in tormenting myself over my fondness for a dashing rogue."
"So it would seem." His stony expression held the barest hint of a smile and his eyes flashed with a brief glimmer of his affection, "And I am eternally grateful for it."
His tone was flat and devoid of emotion and yet her heart melted with his words. The familiar rush of warmth flowed through her body banishing all traces of anger. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to wrap her arms around him. 'Those moments are best indulged in privacy,' she mused and instead simply smiled up at him, her eyes whispering a silent 'As am I, my love.'
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The devastation surrounding them was overwhelming. The fetid stench of death blanketed the air and the soil was stained a deep crimson. Grotesque mounds of putrid flesh intermingled with long, stringy bits of entrails lay rotting in pools of coagulated blood. Mutilated and broken bodies of men, women and children were strewn throughout the Dalish camp. Many of the bodies were so disfigured that it was impossible to determine whether they were human or elven.
Several of the able-bodied elves gathered up their fallen brethren and placed them side by side at the edge of the clearing in preparation for burial. Parean stared at the horrific sight before her eyes. She noticed that even Loghain seemed somewhat taken aback by the sight, though his reaction was barely perceptible to the others. "Blessed Andraste," she gasped in shocked disbelief, "what could have caused all of this?"
"Werewolves…"
Loghain and Parean turned and leveled a questioning stare toward the source of the revelation; an elven woman of advanced age with shoulder-length silver hair and soft, mournful grey eyes. It was apparent that she was a person of some importance as the elves accepted her judgment on the matter without question.
A loud grunt bursting from his throat, Loghain scoffed mockingly at her comment, "Harumph! You can't be serious…Werewolves? Such things only exist in the realm of legends and fairy stories."
"And such was my belief as well, until my clan arrived to find…this." Her hand swept back, once again drawing their attention to the disquieting state of the camp.
"You came upon this?" Parean muttered in confusion, "So these elves are not part of your clan?"
"No, they are not. This camp belongs…belonged… to Keeper Zathrian and his clan." The woman briefly closed her eyes and gave them a slight bow, "Forgive me…I am Keeper Marethari. We were making our way to the Free Marches, fleeing from the Darkspawn. One of our scouts happened upon a wounded hunter from Zathrian's camp. Before his spirit departed, he spoke of the werewolf attacks. It was my hope to arrive in time to lend aid."
Anxious to settle their duty with the elves, Loghain bowed stiffly in return, "I am Warden Commander Loghain Mac Tir and this is Junior Warden Parean Amell. Dealing with your fantasies of werewolves and the like is your own affair as we are here on a more pressing concern. I would speak with you about the Elven Treaty and the coming Blight."
The callousness in his tone caused Marethari to stare at Loghain with cautious suspicion, "You are Warden Commander? It is my understanding that Duncan leads the Grey Wardens in Ferelden."
Loghain's hard eyes glared at the Keeper with equal suspicion, "And how is it that you know of…"
"He is the murdering shemlen that killed Vanna," Slikia interjected with a low, threatening growl. She recoiled in submission at Marethari's disapproving glance, "Abelas Keeper. I have spoken out-of-turn."
Parean's wide-eyed gaze shifted between Slikia and Marethari before finally coming to rest on Loghain. "That's…that's not possible. Duncan had a kind heart and gentle soul. He would not so blithely murder someone without provocation."
"Do you dare suggest that my sister's illness provoked him to cause her death?" Slikia's anger began to rise at the mere implication that her sister had been at fault. Tamlen reached out to calm her but she quickly brushed his hand aside.
Marethari held up a hand to silence Slikia. "Duncan found Vanna unconscious near an Eluvian; an ancient Elven artifact. Apparently she had been exploring a cave and stumbled upon it. He destroyed the Eluvian as it was tainted by the Darkspawn but Vanna was already stricken. He brought her back to our camp, stating that he had the ability to heal her but his aid came at a price. She was to accompany him to Ostagar and she would never be able to return to us. Though he would neither reveal how he would accomplish this nor why it was that she could not return, he was adamant that without his intervention, she would most certainly perish. Without an understanding of his motivations, I could not risk her well-being by agreeing to his conditions."
Parean focused her attention on Slikia, reaching out a hand to comfort her, "If that is so then your hatred of Duncan is misplaced. It was not he who caused Vanna's death, but the Darkspawn taint."
Slikia roughly slapped Parean's hand away, "His demands were not met and, as a result, he allowed her to perish. To the Elvhen, such actions are no different that if he had ended her life with his own hands."
"None of this is relevant to our purpose." Loghain's exasperated tone did nothing to ease the tension of the moment. "Duncan was killed at Ostagar while protecting King Cailan and I am now Commander of the Grey. Whatever events transpired between you and Duncan is not my concern. We are here solely to affirm your obligation to aid in our fight against the Blight as agreed upon in the Elven Treaty."
"Praise be to Elgar'nan!" Slikia shouted in triumphant glee, "He has granted Vanna her vengeance and slain the murderous shemlen." Lowering her head in solemn reverence, she touched her steepled fingers to her lips, "Now, sister, you can be at peace in The Beyond."
Loghain tried to control his mounting frustration with the elves and their insistence in deviating from the matter at hand. "We have other matters to attend to and I have neither the time nor the desire to indulge your bemoaning any longer. I ask one last time, will you abide by the treaty and join our fight or do we leave you to fend for yourselves?"
"Or you can leave the elves to us and gain our support."
The werewolf led his pack into the clearing. Their hunched bodies were massive in size with long, muscular arms bearing razor sharp claws. Some were poised to attack, their muzzles, moist from their salivation, were drawn back in fierce snarls that accentuated their jagged yellow fangs.
Slikia drew her sword as her archers readied their bows, "Ghi'alas! At least you have spared me the trouble of hunting you down!"
With a quick gesture to his pack, the werewolf's deep throaty growl sent a chill into the air, "We will kill them all and put an end to our torment!"
A loud high-pitched howl gave the werewolves pause as a large silver wolf charged out of the forest. Within seconds the wolf transformed into beautiful woman with mossy green skin and lavender eyes that floated like islands in a sea of black. Her nakedness was partially covered by her chest-length black hair and the brown branches that wove their way around her legs and waist then down her arms, giving form to her hands.
"Swiftrunner, hold your anger. I wish to parley with the mortals." The woman's soft, melodic voice and gentle stroking of his fur visibly calmed the raging beast. "Greetings mortals, I am the Lady of the Forest."
"I am Marethari, Keeper of the Sabrae Clan of Dalish Elves." She motioned for the archers to lowers their bows, "Might I inquire who you are and why your werewolves attacked this clan?"
"You will not question the Lady!" Swiftrunner growled defensively.
"Be calm, Swiftrunner. Her request is appropriate, given the circumstances." The Lady returned her focus to the Keeper, "I am the Spirit of the Forest, summoned centuries ago by Zathrian and bound to the body of the great wolf Witherfang. Humans had committed grave atrocities against Zathrian's family and he sought to use Witherfang to seek his revenge. The fortunate ones died of their injuries; the rest were cursed with lycanthropy. They became savage beasts who continued to spread the curse to succeeding generations. I was able to convince Swiftrunner that there was more to him than his bestial nature and his humanity re-emerged."
Marethari's incredulous gaze drifted over the camp, "I find that difficult to believe. The brutality of what occurred here is anything but humane."
Swiftrunner responded with a menacing snarl, "We sought him out to end the curse. He said that we remained nothing but savage beasts; that he would never end the curse."
"And in ending his life, you sacrificed the only opportunity to lift the curse." Marethari's heavy sigh was laden with remorse, "Even if I wished to do so, I could not remove the curse. Sadly, only Zathrian had that power."
The Lady's expression fell into a vicious scowl, "Then it would seem that we have reached an impasse. Unless your human companions can offer some solution?"
Loghain assumed his "General's Persona" in his stoic reply, "We are Grey Wardens and our only cause is defeating the Darkspawn. As such, we must remain neutral on any matters that do not serve that purpose. Our order was not established to rescue every kitten from a tree."
"You see, My Lady, they will not help us. We will never be accepted by the humans. We must kill them; kill them all!" Swiftrunner lifted his head and howled in anger with his pack mates following suit.
"Yes…because wantonly killing people has done much to alleviate your suffering." Loghain's sarcastic mocking drew a ferocious growl from the already enraged werewolf.
The Lady's harsh expression equaled the stern tone of her voice, "No, Swiftrunner. Killing them for no reason would make you no better than Zathrian."
Swiftrunner accepted her chastisement, bowing his head and dropping to his knee, "Yes, My Lady."
As much as he was loathed admit it, Loghain found himself wishing there was a skilled diplomat in attendance. Maric would often tease him mercilessly over his glaring lack of diplomacy. He tended to prefer a more direct approach. 'One side is right and the other is wrong. Let them fight it out to determine which one is which.' Unfortunately, he did not possess the time for such a resolution to the current situation. Diplomacy was his only option. 'Well Maric,' he mused inwardly, 'let us hope that I've learned something about being diplomatic in my observations of you and Anora.'
Throwing caution to the wind, he stepped toward the two factions, "This endless bantering benefits no one. As I see it, since the werewolves can no longer be freed of the curse, their acceptance into human society would be a satisfactory alternative. On the other hand, the elves wish to avoid being slaughtered where they stand. I would offer this compromise; that you both join our cause and work together to aid in defeating the Blight."
Swiftrunner growled in defiance, "Such a compromise would only benefit the Wardens. After the Blight is ended, the elves will continue on with their pathetic lives but we will still be cursed. Where is the benefit to us? Why should we strike such a bargain?"
Loghain's tone was frank and unwavering, "Because your petty squabbling will become meaningless as the Darkspawn disembowel you. If you assist in ending the Blight, your honor will be restored and you will be hailed as heroes. In exchange for their lives, the elves will search for an alternative means of lifting your curse and, if found, they will administer it without delay."
Both sides remained quiet for several long moments. Unable to tolerate their indecision any longer, Loghain opted to include his normal brand of 'diplomacy', "Truthfully, it makes no difference to me what you decide. While it is to our advantage to have both of you as allies, I am perfectly willing to accept the aid of whoever remains standing in the end. Time's wasting; what is your answer?" He suppressed an amused chuckle at the sound of Parean's hand striking her forehead and he was certain that somewhere in the back of his mind he could hear Maric loudly snickering.
The Lady was the first to respond, "Are you certain that they will be acknowledged for lending their support?"
"My lady," Loghain began, trying to sound somewhat charming and sincere, "the Grey Wardens are held in high regard to a great many people. I assure you that, assuming we survive the battle, we shall sing their praises to whomever will stand still long enough to listen."
"Then they will accept your compromise, provided that the elves will honor their part." The Lady glanced over at Swiftrunner who reluctantly nodded his agreement.
Marethari bowed slightly to Loghain, "And we will agree as well."
Incensed over the unexpected turn of events and unable to remain silent, Slikia approached Marethari and blurted out, "Keeper! How can you agree to this after what they've done?"
"I understand your feelings, Da'len," Marethari spoke gently to her and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, "but the Warden Commander is correct. We must work together to defeat our common enemy."
Slikia muttered softly, "Ma nuvenin Keeper," and returned to her place at Tamlen's side.
"Then it is settled," Loghain breathed a frustrated sigh of relief and stiffly bowed to Marethari and then to The Lady. "Now we shall take our leave."
"The hour is growing late," Marethari gestured to an area at the edge of the camp, "We would offer the both of you shelter until the morning."
Loghain glanced toward the sky, already beginning to turn an ashen grey as the sun slowly made its descent toward the horizon. He surmised that they would have an acceptable amount of traveling time before completely losing the light and he did not wish to linger. "Thank you, no. We have much to accomplish and our time is growing short." Without another word, he turned on his heel and strode toward Red.
Marethari nodded toward his retreating form, "As you wish. We will begin preparations. Send word when you are in need of us." She looked at Parean with a warm smile, "Dareth Shiral, Grey Wardens."
Parean smiled in return, crossing her arms over her chest with a slight bow, "And to you both as well. May the Spirits protect us all."
I know I made Duncan look like kind of a jerk but I was approaching the Dalish Warden's origin from the perspective of the Dalish. If someone told you that they could heal someone you cared about but only if you agreed to their (in your opinion) outrageous conditions, then let them die because you didn't, wouldn't you think they were a jerk?