The servants arrived at Lhiannon's chambers shortly after she and Loghain settled in, several large plates of food and a carafe of ale with them. Lhiannon and Loghain had both removed their armor, sitting at her table in typical longshirts and leather trousers. He picked up the carafe and began to pour ale into their tankards as Lhiannon picked up the parchment with Calenhad's seal on it. Breaking the seal, she began to read the contents. Loghain watched as her brows shot up in what appeared to be wry amusement.

"Alistair and Anora are summoning all the nobles to Denerim for court in three weeks from the date of this letter. That was several days ago," she said, handing the parchment to Loghain. He rolled his eyes as a sigh of exasperation escaped his lips. "A necessary evil of the nobility," he growled to her, taking the offered parchment and quickly perusing it. Court, especially high court in Denerim, was perhaps his least favorite duty as a member of the nobility. In the brief time he traveled with Lhiannon as simply a Grey Warden and not a Teyrn, he found himself looking forward to a life without the obligations of court. Fate, of course, saw fit to deny him that small bit of respite.

Lhiannon looked at him, a look of curiosity and excitement on her face. "I've never been to a royal court before. What's it like?"

Loghain sighed, not understanding her childlike enthusiasm for such a tiresome affair. "It's a lot of favor mongering, to be honest. Some work does get done; new oaths are taken, new laws passed, announcements and such. But for the most part, it's favor mongering." Loghain scowled, his mind running back over the previous royal courts he had to attend. The very first court of Maric's that he had attended in Gwaren saw him run Bann Donall through with his sword for suggesting the gathered nobles take Maric to the usurper Meghren in an effort to save their pathetic, traitorous hides. Most sessions of high court were not so dramatic as that, but were still in many ways tiresome.

"After my wife died, I went to court and every noble in Ferelden was trying to convince me to marry his or her daughter. Or every widow was trying to convince me to marry her."

Lhiannon covered her mouth to stifle a laugh. Loghain scoffed and rolled his eyes at her. "This is rather amusing to you, is it not? Insolent child. Maker help me."

"I just keep picturing noblewomen trying to fawn all over you," Lhiannon giggled.

Loghain took a drink of ale, snorting as he set the tankard back on the table. "They were insipid and shallow, concerned more with their salons and what clothing was in fashion than in anything practical," he growled irritably.

"Then what about me?" Lhiannon asked, a grin on her face. "How did I, a simple mage, succeed where all those noblewomen failed?"

Loghain's eyes locked onto hers and she could feel them boring into her once more, making her heart skip a beat as his intense stare held her enthralled. "You are neither insipid nor shallow. You are strong and beautiful. People are drawn to you, implicitly trusting you. You reminded me much of Maric when we first met."

Lhiannon was surprised. "King Maric? How so?"

Loghain nodded. "I told you once before that Maric could inspire such devotion in people that they would lay down their lives for him. You also possess that same quality."

Lhiannon suddenly found she had a lump in her throat. "I never knew that."

Loghain rose from his chair and came to hers, kneeling down before her and placing a hand on her knee. "The decisions I have made led to you; as such, I would not change them." Lhiannon leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Loghain's neck, burying her head in the hollow between his neck and shoulder as his arms wound about her waist. He lowered his face to her head, breathing in the scent of her hair; he could still smell the soap she used to clean it that morning and the freshness of the air that had infused it on their return journey to Vigil's Keep. He closed his eyes in contentment; this is where he wanted to be.

Lhiannon pulled away from his embrace after a moment and he could see the tears in her eyes. Loghain was confused for an instant, until he saw her smile and felt the warmth flowing through the taint in their blood. Her tears were those of happiness. Loghain scoffed to himself; he could never understand why women cried when they were happy. "I suppose we should read the letter from Anora," she said, brushing his cheek with her fingers.

Loghain rose to his feet and went back to his chair, picking up the scroll with Anora's personal seal on it. Lhiannon reached for a plate and began to fill it with food, her heart seemingly swollen to twice its size in her chest. Loghain broke the seal and read the letter, his brows lifting as he read. "Anora and Alistair would like us to arrive a day or so before court begins, if we can. They want to speak with us privately before the nobles arrive and the formalities begin." He paused, considering. What could Anora be up to?

Lhiannon sighed. "Is the life of a noble always spent on the road? I've been Arlessa for only a short time and it seems like I always have to go somewhere. It would be nice to sleep in my own bed for more than a couple of days in a row."

Loghain picked up a plate of his own, filling it with food. He snorted at Lhiannon. "Get used to it."

Varel sat in a chair across the desk from Lhiannon the following morning, scowling at the ledger the Grey Wardens had brought back from the smugglers' den in Amaranthine. "I do not like knowing that weapons are being smuggled into the arling. These aren't poor grade weapons either; many of these appear to be enchanted."

"Enchanted weapons can inflict a great deal of damage; as such, they are hardly inexpensive. Which tells me that someone with deep pockets could be involved," Lhiannon said, resting her elbows on the desk and propping her chin in her hands. She scowled as she thought about this newest revelation. Whoever was doing this was working quietly, preferring to buy the weapons rather than steal them. Stealing weapons, especially enchanted ones, drew attention. That sort of news would have traveled in the merchant circles like wildfire. Lhiannon was sure they would have heard about such activities by now if they were indeed stolen. She made a note to speak to Mervis about any such rumors he may be privy to.

Loghain stood near the window, his gaze on the buildings outside. He rubbed his chin in thought, a deep frown crossing his face as he turned to face Lhiannon and Varel. "Such weapons are often used against powerful adversaries. Some can cut through the heaviest armor with little difficulty." He paused for a moment, considering. "Many are used by assassins; especially those weapons that can render armor ineffective."

"Had you observed enchanted weapons at the shops in Amaranthine?" Varel asked, turning his troubled gaze to a pacing Loghain.

"Few. There were only a handful of enchanted items of any sort in the shops," Loghain said. "Clearly these weapons are not destined for the shops. Where, then, are they going?"

Varel pursed his lips together, scowling. "Stockpiling? Could someone be gathering them for another purpose?"

"I care not for that thought," Loghain growled, turning his gaze to Lhiannon. She appeared to be deep in thought; her eyes were lingering on her desk, slightly unfocused. Loghain could almost hear her racing thoughts as she drummed her fingers on the top of her desk. He returned his attention to Varel. "I take it there are no names in the ledger?"

"Coded," Varel confirmed.

"The questions now are who is behind this and why." Lhiannon paused for a moment before continuing. "Varel, I'm going to have to leave the investigation in your capable hands for the time being. Not only must we investigate the Wending Wood regarding the problems there, but also Loghain and I have been summoned to Denerim for court. We shall investigate the Wood on the way to Denerim."

"As you wish, Commander. I will also have Captain Garavel assist in the investigation."

"See to it," Lhiannon agreed, "however, I would like Captain Garavel and some of his soldiers to accompany us in case we encounter an organized group of miscreants in the Wood. Safety in numbers, you know. Perhaps Sergeant Maverlies can assist you. Also speak to Mervis of the Merchants Guild in Amaranthine to see if he has heard rumors of missing or stolen weapons."

Varel nodded at her. "I will speak with Captain Garavel and Sergeant Maverlies; I will let her know what we suspect. I shall also use my own contacts within the arling to aid in the investigation while you are gone. Perhaps we can uncover some of the true identities of the individuals referenced in the ledger." He paused, furrowing his brow in thought. "What have you learned about the Wending Wood and its connection to the smuggling?"

Lhiannon tapped her fingertip on the top of her desk. "The Merchants Guild suspects the darkspawn could be disrupting the trade routes, but they're not certain. It could be just smugglers causing all the trouble. With the difficulty in communications, no one is entirely sure. Some people have claimed to have seen 'monsters' in the Wood."

They sat in silence for a few moments, Varel scratching notes on a piece of parchment he held on his lap while Loghain returned to the window to gaze outside. Lhiannon waited patiently for Varel to finish; she liked that he was such a meticulous seneschal. His value grew on her with each passing day. She was not afraid to admit that without the support of her seneschal, the arling would be running far less efficiently. When he had finished scratching his notes, Lhiannon asked him what he knew of the Wending Wood. She had only been through it a handful of times; the last was when they accompanied Mhairi from Denerim. Mhairi had stuck to the main path and was rushing her and Loghain through it to get to the Vigil as soon as they could, leaving no time for exploration.

"Well, Commander, there are some ancient Tevinter ruins there and a number of Andrastian statues scattered throughout. The last time I traveled through it, I found it no more dangerous than other wild areas of Denerim. That was before the Blight, mind you." Varel shifted in his seat, looking for a more comfortable position. "How long do you think you will be in Denerim, Commander?"

Lhiannon shrugged slightly. "The plan is to return to the Vigil right after the formalities are concluded. The formal sessions of court are scheduled to take place over two days, but there's sure to be more mingling and informal gatherings before and after." Lhiannon snorted, grinning at Varel in a conspiratorial way and glancing in Loghain's direction. "Loghain hates court; it would be easier to talk him into taking a trip to Val Royeaux to have tea with the Empress than to stay at court any longer than the formalities dictate."

"Mind your words, insolent child," Loghain growled at Lhiannon. "I would not stoop so low."

Varel returned her conspiratorial smile before looking at Loghain. "I am hardly surprised that you have little patience with court, Warden." Loghain grunted as Varel turned back to Lhiannon. "When you leave, may I suggest taking several messaging birds with you? If you need to get word back to me quickly on any matters that arise at court, that would be the best way to do it," Varel said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands in his lap.

Lhiannon nodded her approval. "Agreed. Also, I'd like you to send Oghren, the Glavonak brothers, and some soldiers down into the basements to seal whatever breach the darkspawn used to infiltrate the Vigil. I'm sure they will be back eventually and I'd rather not have them walk right up to our front door." She grinned at Varel. "Make sure you secure the ale barrels; I don't want Oghren to think he can drink himself into an even greater stupor with me gone."

"I understand, Commander, though you know he won't be very amenable to that," Varel chuckled.

Lhiannon joined in Varel's amusement, laughing for a moment before continuing. "Speaking of Voldrik, I'd like you to keep tabs on the repairs to the Vigil. I want the fortress to be ready for the darkspawn if they come again. I have a feeling we've not seen the last of them."

"Do you feel something through the taint?" Varel asked, his face betraying his deep concern. Lhiannon paused before shaking her head. "No, Varel, I can't say I feel anything specific. But I do feel something and that is enough for me to want to take precautions."

Shortly after her meeting with Varel and Loghain was concluded, Lhiannon exited the Vigil, walking the walls of the fortress as she observed the ongoing repairs. The sense of something brewing within the taint was tickling at her mind, growing with each passing day. It did not have the feel of a full-blown Blight, but the sense of wrongness remained; that should have been fading with the demise of the archdemon. That the feeling of wrongness was still niggling at her senses was enough to concern her.

The largest breaches in the walls were finally closing; Voldrik Glavonak was certainly worth the eighty sovereigns she had needed to part with. He may complain about the quality of the granite and stone he had to work with—and his assessment of the "shoddy" workmanship of the humans that built the fortress—but his progress in sealing the breaches had been nothing short of remarkable.

As Lhiannon walked the Vigil's grounds, she felt the taint nearby; not darkspawn, thank the Maker, but a melancholy brooding not unlike that she felt from Loghain on occasion. Rounding the corner of a small building, she saw one of the ladders leading up to the top of the wall; it was meant for archers to quickly scale the wall to help fend off any hostile parties that may approach the fortress. The brooding feel was coming from the top of the wall. Curious, Lhiannon climbed the ladder and found Nathaniel there, leaning against the stone wall and gazing out over the countryside. She could tell he sensed her there, but he made no move to acknowledge her. She leaned against the wall a few feet away, knitting her fingers together and looking out over the countryside with him.

"Delilah is pregnant with her first," Nathaniel began, his voice low and melancholy. "She's due in the spring."

"That's wonderful news, Nathaniel."

"Albert, her husband, was on a trip to Orzammar, looking for gems to sell in his shop. Delilah wants me to meet him when we next go to Amaranthine, if I can."

Lhiannon nodded. "Of course. We shall try and make it a point for you to visit."

Silence came down on them for several long moments, each gazing out over the countryside, lost in their thoughts. "The last thing my father told me when he sent me to the Free Marches was to learn all I could, as one could never learn too much. He was so...normal then," Nathaniel said, sighing sadly. "Now the Howe's are pariahs. Maybe I should have insisted on staying here instead of going to the Free Marches. Maybe I could have done something to stop him."

"Had you stayed, Nathaniel, you likely would have been with Thomas and died in the war," Lhiannon said. They were silent for a few moments again before Lhiannon scoffed lightly, breaking the silence between them. "The last thing my father told me was that I was an abomination in the sight of the Maker, and that I should do the world a favor and slit my own throat, as I was not fit to live in the Maker's world. That was just before he cursed and disowned me."

Nathaniel heard a small amount of bitterness in her voice. He also found himself shocked at her revelation. "Why would he say such a terrible thing to his own child?"

"He, my mother, and my brother were all fundamentalist, cultist Andrastians. They believed magic was a sin and an abomination in the Maker's eyes. As soon as my abilities manifested, he had me dragged off to Kinloch Hold, my hands bound like a criminal."

"Have you had contact with them since?" Nathaniel asked.

With a sigh, Lhiannon shook her head. "Not a peep. I don't even know if any of them are still alive."

"You have no other family?"

"Not blood family, but I do have a family of sorts from Kinloch Hold. Anders and I have been friends for years." She paused, her voice growing emotional. "I have wonderful friends and that means far more to me than anything."

Nathaniel slightly turned his head toward her, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "And what of Loghain?"

Lhiannon sighed, this time Nathaniel noted that is was one of contentment. He watched her face relax and a small smile cross it. "When darkness is all around me, he is my light. I am drawn to him like a moth to a flame. I love him so completely that I can scarcely fathom it."

Nathaniel turned away from Lhiannon and returned his stare to the countryside for several moments before dropping his head, his eyes downcast. "When you were...held...at my Father's estate in Denerim, did he...torture...you...?

With a reluctant nod and sigh, Lhiannon answered, knowing that her answer would be like pouring salt into a gaping wound. "Yes, he did," she said quietly.

"I'm so sorry, Commander," Nathaniel whispered, his voice breaking slightly.

Reaching over, she placed a hand on his forearm. "Nathaniel, it wasn't your fault. You're not responsible for what he did. You are not to blame, and I hold no such blame against you." Nathaniel turned to look at her, a deep sadness in his eyes. She also saw something else there: hope. "Nathaniel, I'm proud to have you as a Grey Warden. Your actions bring honor back to the Howe name."

Nathaniel nodded and placed a hand on hers in silent thanks. Lhiannon briefly studied Nathaniel's face; he was still holding his gaze down, but his face had lost some of the bitterness and sadness it had held. "We'll leave for the Wending Wood and Denerim in the morning," she said.

"I'll be ready, Commander," Nathaniel said, nodding as she turned to leave. Nathaniel brought his gaze back up to look over the countryside once again. Perhaps he was mistaken about the Commander. After what Delilah told him, he was beginning to agree with her; perhaps Father did deserve to die for what he had done. He had brought ruin upon the Howe name through his reckless ambitions, and it was up to him and Delilah to restore it. The Grey Wardens were the opportunity he needed to bring about his name's restoration; he vowed that he would stop at nothing to achieve it.

The sun had been hiding behind the clouds for most of the day as Lhiannon and her companions made their way south toward the Wending Wood from Vigil's Keep. The density of the trees had steadily increased as they traveled The Pilgrim's Path, eventually filtering out what little sun there was. The breeze caused the leaves to rustle together and they could occasionally hear the creaking of tree limbs from high overhead. Captain Garavel and his soldiers traveled at the front and back of the group with the Grey Wardens positioned in the middle. As they traveled, Anders would occasionally stand in his horse's stirrups to brush his hand on a low hanging branch or reach out and run it along the trunk of a tree that sat close to the path.

"What in the Maker's name are you doing?" Nathaniel asked after observing Anders run his fingertips along a tree trunk next to the path.

"Well, I grew up in a tower in the middle of a lake. Trees weren't exactly common there. I find them fascinating," Anders explained, plucking a leaf off a low hanging branch and examining it. "I wonder what kind of tree this is."

Lhiannon was traveling just behind Captain Garavel and one of his soldiers, studying the path ahead. The wind had turned direction and blew a gentle breeze into her face, ruffling the small locks of hair that had come loose from the tie at the base of her head. She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head as she caught the faint smell of smoke on the breeze.

"Do you smell that?" she asked Loghain, who rode next to her. He nodded in confirmation. "Smoke," he agreed, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the path ahead. They continued down the path for several more minutes before coming upon a bend in the road ahead. As they rounded the bend, they saw before them the source of the smoke that they had smelled earlier. A wagon was burning fiercely in their path, crates scattered around the wreckage. Some of the shattered crates were also smoldering themselves. Captain Garavel held up his hand, guiding his horse to a stop as the others followed suit.

"Hold here Captain," Lhiannon said quietly, sliding off the back of her horse. She could feel the faint stirrings in the taint telling her that darkspawn had recently been in the vicinity. Loghain, Anders, and Nathaniel slid off their horses and began to scan their surroundings warily. They handed the reins of their horses to the soldiers accompanying them. "Darkspawn have been here recently," Lhiannon explained at the other Grey Wardens came to her side. "Let us investigate first. We'll let you know when it's clear."

"As you wish, Commander," Garavel replied, quietly relaying the command to his soldiers.

Lhiannon and the other Grey Wardens began to cautiously approach the burning wreckage, hands near their weapons and eyes searching for movement from the trees. As they drew closer, they heard low voices and shuffling sounds from behind the wreckage. "Bandits?" Lhiannon whispered to Loghain.

"Uncertain. I'll take Nathaniel and flank them if you'd like to investigate." Lhiannon nodded and watched Loghain motion to Nathaniel to follow him off to the side. They quietly took cover amongst the trees, keeping Lhiannon, Anders, and the burning wreckage in sight.

"Hello there," Lhiannon called out once Loghain and Nathaniel had moved away to hide among the trees. "You seem to have had a spot of trouble. Do you require assistance?" She and Anders had walked toward the three men poking through the ruined caravan. They quickly looked up at the approaching mages and settled their hands close to their weapons.

"This is our find. Go away before you get hurt."

"Your find?" Anders asked. "So you're not the owners of this caravan?"

The men suddenly drew their weapons and rushed forward. Lhiannon put an arm out and shoved Anders behind her as she drew Spellweaver. "Wrong answer, gentlemen."

Lhiannon heard the whistle of an arrow in the air an instant before it found purchase in the arm of the man rushing toward her. He flinched and swore but before he could continue charging at Lhiannon, she swung Spellweaver upward and cleanly severed the man's head at his shoulders. The blood fountained out of the corpse for a moment before falling silently to the ground. She heard Loghain crashing through the brush beside her, raising his shield to deflect the oncoming sword of the second man. Before Lhiannon or Anders could rush over to help, Loghain had used his forward momentum to knock the attacker off his feet, plunging his sword into his chest and pinning him to the ground.

The third man turned to run deeper into the forest. Lhiannon began to give chase but stopped when first one, then two arrows suddenly appeared in the man's back. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw Nathaniel release a third arrow with deadly precision. It found purchase in the man's neck, knocking him to the ground where he went still. Lhiannon ran over to the downed man and seeing that he was indeed dead, pulled the arrows from his body. No sense in wasting them.

Lhiannon hurried back to where Captain Garavel and his men had joined the other Grey Wardens in examining the burning wreckage. Lhiannon approached one of the crates that was not burning and opened it. Inside were bundles of food and basic sundries. Anders had opened another crate and was delighted to find fine bolts of cloth inside; expensive weaves of cotton and silk. He ran his hand over the fabrics, delighting in their textures and wondering if anyone would miss just one bolt.

"I think we may have stumbled onto some of the goods being smuggled into Amaranthine," Lhiannon surmised. "The bandits probably attack the caravans, taking some of the goods for themselves and smuggling the rest into the city where they can sell them for exorbitant prices to either the merchants or the common folk."

Loghain scoffed. "The lawlessness of this arling turns my stomach."

Captain Garavel nodded his agreement. "It sickens me as well, Warden. We should investigate further and see if there are any other smugglers in the Wending Wood and put a stop to them."

The soldiers and Grey Wardens mounted their horses again, continuing their journey through the Wending Wood. They found more evidence of destroyed caravans; wreckage that was still actively burning and others that were little more than piles of ash to be blown about in the wind.

As they traveled the paths through the forest, they found themselves beset by more than one troublesome pack of sylvans. After fighting what seemed like the umpteenth pack, Anders announced that he was no longer fascinated with trees. "That's it. I'm done. Trees are evil," he said as he pulled a lyrium flask out of his pack and drained it. As he moved to put the empty flask back into his pack, Lhiannon saw his eyes go wide as he looked at something above and behind her. Lhiannon turned around and saw a new sylvan lurching toward them, it's crown of leaves burning in a bright corona of fire.

Lhiannon looked over her shoulder at Anders. "I'm beginning to agree with you about the trees." Both mages began to cast icy spells, hoping to freeze the creature in place so Nathaniel's arrows or Loghain's sword could do the most damage. As the creature began to move again, Loghain would move away, waiting for the mages to freeze it in place again. After several minutes of back and forth freezing and fighting, the creature finally fell.

"Clearly, there is more going on in this Wood than mere smugglers," Loghain surmised, sheathing his sword. "I have not experienced sylvans quite like those before."

"Nor I, and I have been through these woods a great deal," Garavel said, kicking at the smoldering carcass. "We should keep moving. Perhaps we will find something more."

Lhiannon and Anders gave each other a wary glance. They could sense magical energies in the area; some of it very recently cast. "We need to be careful," Anders told the others. "There is magic at work here."

Lhiannon looked at the rickety bridge ahead of them and wondered if they would even be able to cross it without falling into the deep chasm beneath it. The bridge looked like its troubles were recent however; there were fresh scorch marks all over it, indicating that someone, or something, had tried to set it on fire. Captain Garavel and one of his soldiers had begun to inspect the span, looking to see if it would be safe to cross. After a number of minutes peering over the side and running their hands along the span, they declared that the bridge looked worse than it appeared and should be safe for them to cross. One by one, they began to carefully traverse the derelict looking span.

Lhiannon had just crossed over, sliding off her horse to stretch her legs when she heard the pounding of running feet approaching. She pulled Spellweaver and looked up to see a man running toward the bridge, eyes wide with fright and panting heavily. She held up her hand to stop him. "Easy now, stranger. Do you need assistance?"

The man stumbled and stopped briefly, putting his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. His face was red with exertion and Lhiannon could almost smell the fear coming off him. "I need…to get out…" he stammered, his chest heaving in exertion.

"What is this?" Loghain asked tersely as he approached Lhiannon's side. "Speak quickly man. What is going on?"

"I…just wanted easy money…from the caravans…"

"You're a smuggler? Lhiannon asked.

The man nodded, standing straight now with eyes still wide with fear. He pointed to the area behind him. "The elf, she's making the trees come alive! I have to get out of here!" He quickly bolted away from Loghain's reaching hand and fled across the bridge, into the forest behind them.

"Maker's breath," he swore, pointing at two of Garavel's guards. "Go after him. Bring him back."

The soldiers turned to give chase. As they did so, the sound of many snapping twigs from the ledge above them made everyone turn their heads. A column of tangled roots and branches appeared to grow upwards from the ground, twisting and tangling among themselves in a living, writhing mass. As suddenly as it appeared it withered away, leaving behind the waiflike form of an elf. Lhiannon could clearly see that the elf was from one of the Dalish clans. She had light hair and subtly drawn tattoos over her delicate face. She wore robes made of animal skins and carried a long staff that appeared to be made of dragon bone, an orange crystal held in the claw at the tip of the weapon. Not only did she remind Lhiannon of Morrigan, but the elf also wore a scowl on her face that would have made Morrigan look perky and bright.

"You shemlens are not welcome here," the elf snarled at them, raw hatred in her voice. "Leave, now, before I do to you what I did to the others that dared to come through."

Lhiannon sheathed Spellweaver and raised her hands in front of her, showing that she was unarmed and not a threat. She looked back to the others and motioned for them to sheathe their weapons as well. They did, but Lhiannon caught Loghain's disapproving glare as she turned to regard the elf again.

"We are only here to investigate the missing caravans. I assure you we mean no disrespect. We only wish to continue our investigation and carry on passing through the Wending Wood on the way to the capital." She continued to walk slowly forward, keeping her motions slow and deliberate as not to further antagonize the elf.

"You stupid shemlens, thinking you can go wherever you please and do whatever you wish, heedless of the consequences. The merchants kidnapped my sister and killed those of my clan. I have exacted my revenge upon them. I shall do so to you as well, if you do not leave now." The elf held up her staff at Lhiannon menacingly. "That's close enough, shemlen."

"Perhaps we can help you find your sister, if you will let us continue our journey in return," Lhiannon suggested in a calm voice, halting in place. She watched the elf's face shrivel in disgust.

"I will not accept help from shemlens," she spat angrily. The elf raised her staff, moving her delicate hands as she began to cast. "You have brought this upon yourselves, just like the shemlens who took my sister did. Die now." Branches and roots enveloped her again before she disappeared. Just before she was completely enveloped however, Lhiannon saw her wave her hand as she cast out her magic. Ominous creaking and groaning began to rise from around them and as she turned her head, the trees came to life around them.

A/N: As always, thanks to all of you who take the time to read and review the story. It's much appreciated!

Did I just leave another cliffhanger? ;)