Definitely not a fan of the Brecilian Forest - it's taken me ages to write since it's so tedious!

Chapter 37:

Just Keep Going Until You Fall:

We'd been wandering through the Brecilian Forest for hours and my energy levels had been sapped. My exhaustion was really catching up with me, but I didn't have the time to stop and rest. Even if I did stop to sleep, I'd see the sodding Archdemon again, so I was happy to have an excuse not to sleep. The forest felt uncomfortable and we were all on edge as we weaved our way through the trees. We'd been ambushed by a few mutant spiders and a group of sodding werewolves (they do actually sodding exist), so my hands hovered over my daggers as we cautiously walked into the depths of the forest.

The silence was starting to grate on me nerves. I knew we had to be cautious but walking in silence was making me more unsettled. Zevran walked close beside me, his eyes darting around the trees. I sighed, even he was more on edge than usual. "So, Zev, tell me about Antiva."

Zevran chuckled. "You wish to know about Antiva? The only way to truly appreciate it would be to go there."

"That's a bit tough at the moment."

He laughed. "This is true. It is a warm place, not cold and harsh like this Ferelden. In Antiva it rains often, but the flowers are always in bloom… or so the saying goes."

"You don't like it here? In all the wet dog smell glory?"

"It is fine enough with its dogs and its mud. The people are spirited even if they can't tell the difference between an assassin and a mere killer."

I giggled. He wasn't wrong about that. "Where in Antiva did you live?"

"Ah! I hail from the glorious Antiva City, home to the royal palace. It is a glittering gem amidst the sand, my Antiva City. Similar to Orzammar and its beauty admist the stone. Sad that it will never see the sunlight or smell the salt of the ocean, however."

I shrugged. "When you live there you don't think about it. The sky is kind of a scary concept to most dwarves."

"This is true. I suppose the dwarves have all they need in Orzammar. You cannot miss what you do not know."

"Some dwarves do and they head to the surface. But… even I didn't want to come up here. If it wasn't for the Grey Wardens… I'd still be down there. Well. I'd probably be dead but that's beside the point."

Zevran laughed again. "Orzammar is a peculiar place." He paused for a moment and frowned. "You know what is most odd? We speak of my homeland and for all its wine and its dark-haired beauties and the lillo flutes of the minstrels… I miss the leather the most."

I cleared my throat. "What?"

"I mean the smell," laughed Zevran. "For years I lived in a tiny apartment near Antiva City's leather-making district, in a building where the Crows stored their youngest recruits. Packed in like crates. I grew accustomed to the stench, even though the humans complained of it constantly. To this day the smell of fresh leather is what reminds me most of home more than anything else. The thought of never returning makes me think of it constantly."

"I know how you feel. I never thought I'd think of Orzammar and miss it so much but… never being able to return makes me miss it so much," I sighed and smiled at Zevran. "Your home will always be there, Zev."

He smiled back at me. "True, and it's a comforting thought. One simply never knows that is to come next. How could I have suspected I would end up defeated by a beautiful Grey Warden, a woman who then spares my life? I could not."

"Beautiful is it Zev?"

"I say you are beautiful because it is true. Should I not?"

I chuckled again. I could always count on Zev to lift my mood. "I don't mind, Zev."

I heard Alistair clear his throat behind me and glanced back at him. He was glaring at Zevran. Should he not call me beautiful then? I didn't want to be concieted but I was never called beautiful in Orzammar… I kind of like Zev calling me that.

Zev followed my eyes and saw Alistair glaring at him. He laughed and drew closer to me. "We have made Alistair jealous, no? I quite enjoy the sight of him all flustered."

"I never imagined I'd have somone jealous over me," I replied with a small smile. "It's… nice."

He leaned even closer to me, his breath tickling my ear. "We could always make him more jealous."

"Can we focus on the task at hand!" suddedly snapped Alistair.

Zevran laughed. "That was easy," he whispered, giving me a wink before slinking away to walk behind me.

Alistair quickly replaced Zevran at my side. A tight frown was plastered on his face. "What's wrong? Zev and I were just chatting."

"More like flirting," grumbled Alistair.

I nudged his arm. "Are you jealous?"

He sputtered for a moment. "No, I'm just, he's just… he's an assaassin. He's probably trying to lower your guard or something. I'm just… ah… looking out for you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Sure you are," I drawled with a sly grin. He flushed bright red and cleared his throat.

"So, ah, what are we looking for?"

I shrugged. "Werewolves I guess. Not that I really know what werewolves look like."

"We will know them when we see them, no?" interjected Zevran.

"I guess… must be like… humanoid wolves? Maybe?"

I glanced at Wynne for clarification and she nodded at me. "Humanoid wolves is a good explanation of them," she said. "We will know them when we are confronted with them."

I sighed and focused on the path in front of me. Everything seemed to look the same and the whole place was creeping me the sod out. I frowned and stared at the trees surrounding me – they were so sodding eerie. Suddenly, Zev's arm shot out and pulled me to a stop.

"Be on your guard," he murmured. "Something is heading toward us."

The four of us stopped walking and drew our weapons. A group of wolves galloped up to us, with a werewolf in the centre. It stood on it's rear legs, dirty white fur standing upright. A sneer was plastered on its face, highlighting the sharp teeth and prominent jawline. It growled as it approached us, yellow eyes glinting. "The watch-wolves have spoken truly, my brothers and sisters. The Dalish send a dwarf, of all things, to put us in our place. They send a dwarf to make us pay for our attack."

"Geez, I'm not just a dwarf," I grumbled. "Who are you?"

The werewolf growled and its eyes narrowed as it watched me closely. "You speak to Swiftrunner. I lead my cursed brothers and sisters. Turn back now, go back to the Dalish and tell them that you have failed. Tell them we will gladly watch them suffer the same curse we have suffered for too long. We will watch them pay!"

"Watch them pay? Why? What did they do to you that makes you hate them so much?"

"You know nothing, do you? Zathrian wishes only our destruction. You are a fool, and we are done talking. Run from the forest while you can. Run to the Dalish and tell them they are doomed."

"I'm not retrating. I don't want to fight you, you must have your reasons. But I need the Dalish to help fight the Blight."

Swiftrunner growled. "I do not wish to fight you. You are the first to talk with us and try to understand. But we cannot trust you, you work for the Dalish."

"I wouldn't say we work for them. We don't really know what's going on to be honest."

He let out another heavy growl. "Come brothers and sisters, let us retreat. The forest has eyes of its own, and it will deal with intruders as it always has."

I let out the breath I'd been holding in as they scurried off. "Sod. We can't just destroy them if they're not mindless beasts," I grumbled. "They must have a reason for attacking the Dalish."

Alistair placed a gentle hand on my shoulder as I sheathed my daggers. "We can't do much until we know more. We just have to press on and hope they talk with us."

"Considering that they just said they won't trust us… I don't know how well it will all go down," I said with a sigh. "But we'll give it a shot."

Zevran moved ahead of us. "Let us continue," he said with a smile. "I say we head for the big tree, no?"

I shrugged. "Might as well. Looks like a centre point so we might get some sense of direction there."

We continued deeper into the forest, finally stumbling into a clearing. A large tree stood in the middle of the clearing, nothing else surrounded it. I slowly walked into the clearing. "Do trees usually grow this big?" I asked.

Wynne shook her head. "Not usually. There is something strange about this one," she said.

The branches suddenly started moving around us. I screamed and ran into Alistair's chest as one brushed against my arm. "It's moving! The tree is moving!"

Wynne took a step back and Zevran bounded behind us. "I would classify this as not normal," he stammered.

The tree creaked and a groan echoed in our ears before a loud, booming voice followed. "What manner of beast be thee, that comes before this elder tree?"

"Oh dear sodding me," I cried, burying my head further into Alistair's chest. "It talks. The tree sodding talks!"

Wynne made a strange noise behind me. "What kind of magic is this?"

I looked up at Alistair and shook my head. "The tree sodding talks." I repeated. He patted my head gently and stared at the tree in shock.

"How can you talk? You're a tree!" said Alistair.

The tree creaked and it's branches stretched out. "I speak the same as you. I form the words and sound them true."

"It doesn't just speak, it sodding rhymes," I said in shock. "What the sod is going on in this sodding forest?"

The tree moved it's branches again. "Now I have answered a query of thine, but thou hast yet to answer mine."

"What query?" I said shaking my head.

"It asked what you were when we approached it," said Wynne. "Perhaps that is the query it refers to?"

I cleared my throat. "I'm a dwarf. Short and adorable – can't you tell?"

"Ahh, a child of the deeper stone, I should have heard it in thy tone. The woods have never been thy home, 'tis far beneath the earth you roam."

"You can say that again. But the open seems to be my home now after I left Orzammar."

"Who… or what are you?" questioned Alistair, holding me tightly.

The tree moved it's branches towards us, a leaf brushing me on the cheek. "Allow me a moment to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder Tree."

Wynne moved forward, her hand brushing over one of the branches near us. "The world is certainly full of marvelous and unexpected creations," she murmured, her eyes shining in delight. "Each day we see something we never thought possible."

"You rhyme while you speak, no?" questioned Zevran. "Why?"

The Grand Oak let out a sigh that sounded like wind whistling past us. "I do not know, why dost thou not? Thy words seem plain, a mundane lot. Perhaps a poet's s soul is in me… does that make me a poet tree?" It laughed a deep, earthy laugh. The ground shook slightly and we all stumbled to catch our feet.

Zevran snorted. "A poet tree? That's ridiculous."

The tree laughed again. "It was but a simple jest, a jibe to entertain my guest."

"What are you?" said Wynne, her eyes still glowing in curiosity.

"I am an elder oak and nothing more, though once I dreamt of a time before. When I roamed the world and howled with pain, not of this world but twixt and twain. Perhaps I was a spirit then? A wandering thing drawn to this glen? But then that spirit joined with a tree, since then, a tree is all I be."

"You are happy like this?"

"I am the Elder Tree, this is all I will be."

Wynne patted the branches that hovered around us. "I can't imagine such serenity while you are trapped within a tree."

The Grand Oak laughed its deep laugh again. "I am no spirit trapped in a tree, I have a mouth to speak and eyes to see."

"But I have seen spirits merge with trees before – they can be quite hostile. I believe there are some within the forest here – surrounding us as we speak."

"Of the sylvans, this is true; they are quite mad, their virtues few. A spirit trapped swithin a tree, no mouth to scream or eyes to see. A cage of bark, a prison wood, a thing of rage where nature stood. So twisted sylvan they became, but I am not the same as some. I accept my fated oaken home, I feel no need to rage or roam."

"Amazing," sighed Wynne. "I feel such joy that I have seen such an amazing creature."

The Grand Oak chucked and stretched it's branches. "Unless thou thinkest it far too soon, might I ask of thee a boon?"

"What do you need?" I asked, staying close to Alistair. Talking, rhyming trees weren't exactly an amazing thing to me.

"I have but one desire, to solve a matter very dire; as I slept one early morn, a theif did come and steal an acorn. All I have is my being, my seed. Without it I am alone indeed."

"It's like… your child?" I said.

The Grand Oak let out a long sigh that seemed to contain such deep sadness. "I cannot go and seek it out, yet I shall die if left without."

"We're in a bit of a rush though," I said. "We're trying to find the werewolves base."

"I know of everything in this place, help me and I will show you their base."

It's not like we had any better options. I shurgged. "Okay. We'll find the acorn for you."

"Go to the east to find this man, I shall await, do what thou can." It let out another groan and shuddered slightly before returning to a stationary state.

"So we have to find some random man in the forest who took an acorn?" I said as soon as the tree returned to it's tree-like state.

Alistair nodded. "Considering how big this forest is… it may take a while to find him."

I sighed. "Right. Let's get moving then."

We turned around and headed east, further into the forest. After fighting a few mutant spiders and some wolves, we came across a creature lying in the middle of the path. I motioned for my companions to stop and slowly walked towards the creature.

It looked up as I approached, pain evident in its golden eyes. It was another werewolf – but it didn't look well. "P-please… help… listen… I am not… the mindless beast I appear to be."

"Don't worry, we already met one werewolf who spoke. I know you're not mindless. Are you okay? What happened?"

The werewolf coughed, splatters of blood appearing on the ground. "They… I am cursed, turned into this creature. The curse… it… it burns in me! I… fled inro the forest. The werewolves… they… they took me in. But I had to return, I had to!"

I went to kneel beside her and Alistair grabbed me arm to stop me. "Careful," he said. "The werewolves might have lain a trap for us."

I shook my head. "I doubt it. I don't think they want to destroy us. And she looks injured." I knelt beside her and placed a gentle hand on her furry shoulder.

She looked at me, confusion in her eyes. "You are… one of the dwarven folk. I am… was… once an elf, one of the Dalish. Until my… change. Do you know of my clan."

I nodded. "They sent us in here. Were you in one of the scouting parties that was attacked"

The werewolf coughed blood again and nodded slowly. "It happened just scant days ago.

"Can we help you? You're in so much pain."

She shook her head. "No… I cannot be healed."

Wynne knelt beside me. "Let me try, I can use a spell on you to see if it will help."

"Not even magic can heal me now," muttered the werewolf. "Please… my name is Danyla. My husband… he is called Anthras. Please, bring him a message from me." Her arm shook as she handed me a red scarf. "Please, take this… and… tell him I loved him. Tell him I am dead and with the gods. I beg you…"

I grasped the scarf that she handed me, my knucles turning white. "I can't tell him you're dead when you're alive. There must be something we can do for you! There must be a cure somewhere, somehow."

"Magic… will not work against… the curse! Please! You must end it! Please end it!"

I stood up and backed away from her. "I can't kill you… I can't do it! You're alive, you're in there. I can't just end your life."

"Please, this is no life!"

"We must end her pain," murmured Zevran as he stepped towards the werewolf. He knelt beside her and drew his dagger. "You will be with your gods soon." He swiftly moved his dagger across her neck and I buried my head into Alistair's chest.

Gods… bless… you," gurgled the werewolf before collapsing to the ground.

"We could have helped her," growled Alistair. "She didn't deserve to die."

"She felt no pain dying," said Zevran. "The pain the curse was inflicting on her was far worse than a slim hope of survival."

I grimaced. I knew Zevran was right… but I wanted to help her. There had to be some way to cure the curse. I couldn't just abandon these wolves to their fate.

Alistair gripped my shoulder. "Let's keep moving," he said. "We need to find this guy with the acorn for the talking tree."

"That has to be one of the weirdest sentences I've head," I murmured. "I think I can see a campfire ahead."

We walked cautiously towards the glowing light. I sincerely hoped that it was a friendly face for once, this forest was filled with enemies at every turn. My grip loosened on my dagger as we walked into a small clearing, a lone elf aiming his bow at us.

Once we crossed into the area, he lowered the bow. "Friends, turn back, please. These woods are a danger to those who do not know the paths."

"Aneirin?" murmured Wynne, taking a step towards him. "I thought they had killed you."

The elf frowned and tilted his head. "Wait. I… I remember your face… but younger, more impulsive, stern… Wynne?" He frowned. "The templars did find me while I was searching for the Dalish. They nearly killed me, but the Dalish helped me."

"I brought that on you," sighed Wynne, her head drooping. "I was a dreadful mentor, harsh and impatient… I am so sorry for the way I treated you. For what happened."

Aneirin smiled and stepped towards us. "I have but that behind me and you should too. I didn't fit in with the templars and your Chantry… my path lay elsewhere. I enjoy my life with the Dalish, away from the templars and the Circle. This was always my path."

Wynne smiled. "Irving could find a way for you to return, if you ever wish."

"I have fond memories of Irving, he was always kind to me. I will consider your proposal, however my place is currently with the Dalish." He grabbed a small stone-like thing from beside him and held it out. "This is the hardened sap of a tree native to this forest. It's been something of a lucky charm for me, and now I want you to have it."

Tears dribbled from Wynne's eyes as she gently received the sap from Aneirin. "I am grateful," she murmured. "May your gods smile on you, Aneirin."

"And on you," said Aneirin gently. He looked around him and frowned. "It is getting late. The forests are not safe to travel at night. Stay with me until morning, I have protected this clearing with my magic. It will be safe."

I was grateful for his offer. I was worrying about what we would do when night fell – it's not like we could set up camp just anywhere in this forest. "Thank you," I said. "We needed somewhere to sleep tonight."

He nodded. "Do not venture outside this circle clearing during the night, it prevents all evil from passing through. Many creatures lay beyond in the forest." He retreated to a small campfire and my companions quickly joined him.

Night was falling quickly. I took a seat near the edge of the clearing, watching the woods beyond. I could see movement beyond in the trees, but I felt at ease within the clearing. I assumed it was Aneirin's magic. I sighed as the breeze rushed past me, making my hair flutter in the breeze. As creepy as this forest was, the spot Aneirin had created as his camp was so beautiful and peaceful – it was hard to imagine a Blight was taking place. I bit my lower lip as I stared out into the dark forest. I wondered how my companions were going on the outskirts of the Elven camp. And I hoped the Blight wasn't spreading too quickly while we were trapped helping the Elves.

"That is a terrible habit of yours, Kaela."

I jumped slightly and watched him as he plunked down beside me. "What is what?" I asked.

"Biting that poor lip of yours," replied Alistair, "One of these days it's just going to get sick of being bitten and run off!"

I grinned and shook my head. "That'd be a sight to see – a bottom lip running on a pair of legs."

"It could happen." I let out a chuckle. Trust Alistair to make me laugh while I was feeling so down. "Your poor lip must feel so unloved!" he continued, "Getting all cracked and looking sore."

Oh, he was being cheeky now. I grinned and turned to face him, rising onto my knees. "I don't think so. I think it feels loved with some of the things it gets to do – being the victim of my bad habit is a small price to pay."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "And what would it get to do that makes being victimised by you okay?"

I leaned into him, so that my face was directly in front of his. His cheeks instantly flushed red – he is so sodding cute. "It gets a few… special things," I murmured, "Like this."

I leant further into him, my lips brushing against his for a moment. I heard him sigh. "I see what you mean," he murmured, before pulling me into a deep kiss.