I am unaware of how it happened, but she and her fellow Warden are in a relationship. In the time between the events of Redcliffe and the Dalish Camp, where she is remarkably stoic. Wren also brought her dog. This camp is just like the other places she has gone, in need of help. Not that she minds very much. I can only imagine her internal glee at the idea of having so many people indebted to her.
"Why don't they seem to treat you like one of their own? You're just as Dalish as they are." Alistair inquires when he thinks no one is within earshot. Wren is watching the clan leader with a frown as she pets her ever-faithful mabari. He was quick to let everyone know how he felt about the Keeper and she trusted his judgment more than her own.
"My face isn't painted with vallaslin, blood writing. To them, I am no more than a flat ear, child, or seth lin. Most elves get their markings done once they have become of age and picked the god their markings correspond to."
"I was curious about that." Leliana began from her spot on a log.
"How come you don't have your vallaslin? You are of age, are you not? Were you not able to choose a Creator to follow?"
"Once my clan caught word of which god I followed, they rejected my ceremony and told me to come back when I have chosen a god that wouldn't disgrace the clan...or whatever. Dalish elves are no more elf than city elves but are often so much more judgemental. This place is wrong and the Keeper is damning his clan with his secrets. Let's get this over with so we can go." This admittance was interesting. For a while, I'd assumed she missed her clan and looked at me strangely because I made her homesick in some way. She didn't treat me at all negatively but the pain on her face...I wanted to know more about why she made that expression. As far as I knew, I was going to be in her company for quite some time.
"Sooooo, it would be bad for them to know we were involved?"
"Yeah, probably. The nerve of us." She shrugged before something caught her eye. More like someone. It was a young man in the distance. After speaking to him, her eyes flickered over to the woman he desired to Bond with. Wren's mouth became a hard line before she glanced at me. Oh? What was this? I sent her a grin, letting her know I would continue to watch her. The mood of her look changed ever so slightly before going back to the boy.
"No promises." Her body language told of a need to get away from there as she was already leaning away from him. She traded a few things with their merchant and he marveled at her crossbow. Wren proudly allowed him to look at it as he went into his request for her to find more of the ironbark so he could utilize it in some way. This was the first time a conversation with one of the clansmen flowed so smoothly for her. With that, we were off…
And the first thing we found was an injured elf. Not the best sign. She asked Wynne to tend to him and then had Sten carry him back. Our dear leader found Athras on the way back into the camp and spoke with him. The more she interacted with this clan, sans Varathorn, the more uncomfortable she became.
Her tenseness was not unwarranted either. The forest holds a spell and meets us with werewolves, assassins, a poetic tree, and a man all but Wynne and Wren thought to be crazy. Though, Morrigan made a comment about meeting a man just as old, mad, and dangerous as her mother. Wren simply glances from her dog to the man and appears to whisper "blood mage" under her breath, but I am the only one who hears it. The old mage speaks in riddles and likes asking questions. He is also willing to trade things of a particular value. I spy her lip twitch as her hand reaches up to the pendant around her neck, fists and then goes to the ring on her finger.
"What of this? It isn't a normal silver ring. Maybe it is worth the same to you as that acorn?" Without worry, Wren offers the item to the hermit for him to scrutinize. He screws up his face, suspicious, then grins, drops the acorn in her hand, and snatches the ring from her grasp. Of all the time I had spent in the company of the elvhen Warden, this camp adventure was teaching me the most about her. After him, we meet one of Wynne's old proteges and, true to Wren's words, he doesn't hold anything against Wynne.
Our Warden is angry and tired of fighting. Still, her attitude towards the nobles held more spite and malice than here with Swiftrunner. A werewolf of all things. She spoke to him softly yet sternly, trying to communicate her disinterest in fighting them. Eventually, we followed them to the ruins and her movements slow and become almost rigid again. Nothing is showing on her face, but I am not the one who brings it up.
"Wren, what's eating you? You were more okay storming through the Deep Roads." The bumbling man's reminder makes her flinch almost violently away from him and towards the entrance. Really, he was terrible at reading her. I scoffed at his idiocy on my way past him.
Of course, the place was haunted by spirits of those before us. In one form or another. Once we all made it to where the werewolves collected, Zathrian's secret was brought to light in the form of the lovely Lady of the Forest, a wild spirit clothed only in vines.
"Okay. Time to invite Zathrian to the party in the ruins." Wren's steps were lighter than before. Likely at the thought of leaving the rather dreary place. We didn't have to go far to find him.
"Why did I have a feeling you'd be here?" She was shocked by her own intuition and I quirked a smile. Then Keeper Zathrian went and said something condescending and Wren didn't change her tune.
"Will you protect me if things go the way I think they will?"
"You attack first and I wreck you myself. I can promise you that. They attack first, I help. Make sense?" The Keeper didn't like it but still followed begrudgingly.
"I really hate ruins." The woman sighed out as she watched everything return to normal after Zathrian and Witherfang made up and moved on.
"How could you be so unhappy, right now? The place is filled with naked people all so relieved to see you that some are in tears. What gratitude they show, hm?" When she giggled, my heart clenched.
"That may be so but I will feel much better once we are somewhere else. Anywhere, really. Even if it means going back to that Dalish camp."
Our dear Warden does so much. She saved many lives this day, gave some closure, denied two young lovers help, and then saved a halla. Her happiest moment was probably giddily handing Varathorn the ironbark she found.
"You should return to see what I make of it." The older man suggested and she shook her head.
"Make whatever sturdy weapons you can with it. The Dalish will need it for the final battle with the Darkspawn."
"As you say, Warden. It will be a sign of our thanks. We stand with you."
Then we were on the road and almost all of us wanted to have a dig at the budding relationship between the Grey Wardens.
"What a strange turnout. She was spending so much time with you." Morrigan mused from beside me.
"Whatever could have happened?" Her question was rhetorical in nature as the woman rarely cared for what went on here. My bet was on her using this turn of events to get back at me for actually making her speechless with praise.
We made camp just before it was too dark and Wren was quick to give herself more responsibility as she...what was she doing? Standing before an expanse of dirt and bits of grass, she was deep in thought. A stick in one hand and a pile of rocks near her, she set to placing the rocks and writing something in the dirt by it. The whole time she did this she looked to Fen' Harel to keep him up to date.
Wynne beat me to asking.
"Child, what are you doing?"
"Its a list. A crude one but a list all the same. See? We started in Lothering and went to the Tower where we found you. Then here, was Orzammar and the Deep Roads, where we gained Oghren into our ranks. Then the crap at Redcliffe and the Dalish Camp. Our best chance of having the treaties completely filled by all parties is finding these Ashes Isolde mentioned. Ser Henric's letter is telling us to go to Denerim and find a Brother Genetivi. Is he some kind of scholar?"
"Yes, that seems to be it. Some of his works may even have survived the ordeal at the Tower."
"I see. Thank you, Wynne. Denerim has been on my mind lately. At the same time, I kind of want to go see what is back at Ostagar. The Darkspawn should have decreased in number by now if there are any there at all. There may also be supplies there that we can use. Call it a feeling but I kind of want to go back…" The elvhen woman gazed over to Alistair, who smiled and gave her a little wave from his spot by the fire.
"If we can find Duncan's body, that would be good too. He was a great man from what I hear. Besides, thanks to that man from his honor guard, we have a key."