A/N: Here it is, the second chapter of Vir Adahlen! I hope you enjoy it, and remember: Reviews are love! Reviews are life!

It had taken a little while for things to quiet back down in the Lavellan camp, but quiet down they eventually had, and the natural rhythm of every day life had settled back in. For Eilahnen, that meant resuming her dreaded apprenticeship in the Weaver's circle. On the path to becoming a Hasa'asha, Eilahnen had three separate apprenticeships to endure, one after the other: first weaving, then spinning a loom, and finally tailoring. It would take three years to accomplish this – but she always tried hard not to think about that part.

She was now in her third week of her weaving apprenticeship, and was regarded as one of the most skilled in the class. But any praise she received fell on deaf and dissatisfied ears. Weaving had always come naturally to her, but it was partially the lack of any real challenge that was slowly driving her mad.

Some months ago, Eilahnen had been freshly stripped of her sense of purpose, and made uncertain as to what would make her happy. And she still was now. The only difference was that now she realized that it was her own lack of backbone, her refusal to raise her voice, that had allowed her well-meaning parents to back her into the corner she was trapped in. If she had taken more initiative, much could have been different.

Now, she just felt hopeless. Her mother was so happy, the clan so accepting of her 'chosen' path, that she couldn't imagine shattering that illusion. So she chose self-pity and condemnation, instead; when there was no one to mock you for your cowardice, you had to do it yourself.

On this particular afternoon, Eilahnen's group was working with strands of spindleweed and feladara stem that they had stripped apart days before; now that the strands were dry, they could be twisted together by hand into a large quantity of cord. The cords would then be processed with a simple handheld machine and twisted together to make the tough ropes that the Dalish depended on – to secure their goods, for relocation, and in clan Lavellan's case, for bartering.

Currently, they were still twisting the dried pulp into cord strands. It was a simple enough job, and Eilahnen was so involved in her silent stewing that she had stopped seeing the coil of shiny, pale green cordage her hands were deftly twisting.

'Um, excuse me...excuse me? Eilahnen?'

She was suddenly snapped out of her reverie by a voice in her ear. Startled, she turned her head to see who'd spoken. It took her a second to absorb the nut-brown skin, the luxurious fall of wavy black hair, the shimmering green eyes of the person at her side, and then another moment to realize that it was Revassa, the younger of the two Sabrae sisters. She had joined the Weaver's circle as an apprentice earlier on in the week, and was about Eilahnen's age. Once she had gotten over the initial hurdle of grief at separating from her clan, her excitement for meeting new people and seeing new things had returned, and she had proven to be friendly and approachable in the days that Eilahnen had known her.

Still, she wouldn't call the two of them friends.

'It is Eilahnen, right? I'm still having a bit of trouble getting everybody's name straight.'

Eilahnen shook her head. 'No, you're right, that's my name. What do you need?'

'Hmmm. I was hoping that you could give me some pointers, on how to twist this the right way? You do it so quickly, it's as if you've always known how.' She held up her own length of cord, which was considerably slower coming and interspersed with catches and gnarls, and let out an easy, rolling laugh.

Freedom, she thought to herself as she watched Revassa's face light up with her laughter. What a suiting name for her.

Even in the short period of time Eilahnen had known her, it was easy for her to see the differences between them. The Sabrae girl radiated a confidence and natural, easy grace that Eilahnen just couldn't seem to find in herself.

Perhaps, she mused, it was the difference between grabbing your own fate firmly, and letting it be set down in front of you.

Pushing aside her gloomy thoughts, she met the girl's gaze and offered her a smile. 'Of course. It's easy enough, once you get into the rhythm of it. I'll show you.'

At these words, Revassa burst into a huge and dazzling smile. 'Thank you so much!'

Her words were as earnest as her gaze, and Eilahnen couldn't help being swept up into her genuine smile. As they stared at one another for an instant, she noticed a small and endearing gap between the girl's two front teeth, and as she uncoiled the gnarly cord she'd been handed and started demonstrating how to twist it correctly, she felt a pang of guilt. Maybe she was being a fool, not rushing to make such a girl her friend. Maybe she'd retreated too far within herself for her own good, yet again.

'I-it's nothing, really. I'm...glad to help.' Another beaming smile from Revassa at her words, and this time she felt her own smile bloom easily in return.

Some time later, she had finished her demonstration and was carefully watching Revassa work, when she was struck by the feeling of being watched. Stiffening, she lifted her head, her gaze flitting over the clearing, searching for the eyes burning into her skin. It took only a moment before she found them, and then her own eyes were fleeing back down to the coils in her lap.

It was him; the man from clan Sabrae. Through overhearing conversations in the camp, she had learned that his name was Elendren. He was two years her senior, and back with the Sabrae clan, he had already completed his apprenticeship and was an accomplished hunter. Now that he was here, he had joined ranks amidst the hunters in their clan. Apparently, they were already impressed with his skill.

This was the third day in a row that she had caught him staring at her.

It was also the third day in a row that she'd had to battle a stomach teeming with butterflies, as a result. It would take someone stone blind or very foolish to miss the fact that this Elendren was a beautiful man – the most beautiful man that Eilahnen had ever seen, anyway. As his eyes burned a hole in the top of her head, she didn't have the courage to meet his gaze, to look squarely back at him. But she still knew what she would have seen, if she had.

A streamlined, muscular body with long legs, and an easy gait that spoke of many hours stalking gracefully through thick underbrush. A face with a strong, well defined jawline, and high cheekbones resting just below a piercing stare. Full lips, tanned olive skin, and a head of long, chestnut brown hair that fell just past his wide shoulders, partially shaved to reveal a section of scalp above his left ear.

All of this she had noticed during the brief periods of time when she'd been brave enough to look, and never when he'd be able to see her looking. Immediately, she had noticed that he radiated an easy grace, and a wild sort of beauty.

And she noticed that she wasn't the only woman in her clan to take note of him. On the contrary; the day he chose to become himal'arlisen, he had drawn the attention of many Lavellan women, and a few brave girls had already approached him in attempts to get better acquainted. Eilahnen hadn't heard any news of how these girls had fared, and she was chagrined to realize that wondering left her stomach in knots.

Many different sets of eyes were trained on him...and yet, she still felt the heat of his gaze.

This time, she wasn't the only one to notice.

'Elendren is looking at you again. He seems to do that a lot, lately.' Revassa was grinning at her when Eilahnen snapped her head up to stare at her, and when the dark-haired beauty took in her expression, she laughed.

'You look like you've seen the Dread Wolf,' she teased. 'Where exactly is the harm, if he finds you fascinating?'

'He doesn't,' Eilahnen gasped, feeling herself blush from her cheeks to the roots of her silvery hair.

Seeing the blush, Revassa laughed at her again, shaking her head at Eilahnen before gazing out at the hunter across the clearing. There was a fondness in her warm green eyes that came from many years of familiarity, and she appeared to fall deep into thought before suddenly speaking again, sounding serious this time.

'Endren is a good man, Eilahnen. You'll see for yourself, in time.'

Eilahnen could only wonder.

Later that same day, as the evening sky shot through with smears of red and violet, and the air filled with the scents of families cooking their evening meal outside their aravels, Eilahnen was just finishing her work for the day, trying not to curse under her breath. Her mother had decided that the class was doing well enough with their cordage that they should twist all they would need for the ropes in one sitting. 'So that you can begin the next step in the rope-weaving process tomorrow,' she'd said excitedly.

This had resulted in the class being over an hour longer than usual, and a few of the students had their parents wandering over to watch them with amused smiles on their faces by the time Brierdahla ended the lesson. Now she and her mother had nearly finished storing the heaps of cordage properly for tomorrow, and night was starting to descend upon the camp. Eilahnen watched as her mother paused to shove her graying sheet of long blonde hair over her shoulder with a huff, and then shoot her a lopsided smile.

'Your father will be thinking he needs to scrounge berries for his dinner, right about now,' she laughed. 'Would you mind finishing up here and then meeting me at home, da'len? I need to get the stew started.'

Eilahnen swallowed a sigh.

'Of course not, mama.' She cracked a convincing smile. 'Go and save papa from his fool self. I'll meet you when I'm done here.'

Brierdahla smiled again at her daughter, and came to drop a kiss on her forehead before scurrying off toward their aravel. As soon as she was out of sight, Eilahnen allowed herself a loud and defeated sigh, flopping onto the grass and tossing aside the cordage she'd been holding. Rolling onto her back, she let her limbs splay to her sides, and stared out somewhat numbly at the colors streaking the sky, the first stars peeking through.

She was lost in her own world, and therefore she didn't hear the footsteps approaching her, didn't see the shadow that had fallen across her legs. She wasn't shaken from her reverie until she was being spoken to.

'Why do you look so miserable, every time I see you?'

Oh, halla shit. That definitely wasn't Revassa.

She barely had the courage to look, and her stomach was already thrashing like a sea serpent, but after a moment she dragged her eyes from the twinkling watercolor sky, and registered the tall and angular person at her feet.

Elendren.

Of course it was Elendren. She had wondered more than once what she would do and say if he ever actually spoke to her, and none of the scenarios she'd dared to envision had involved her laying splay-limbed on the ground like an idiot.

Stomach in knots, she sat up so quickly her head swam, and the response she bit out sounded rude and defiant, caught off guard.

'What do you mean?'

He looked at her steadily, and after a moment he actually crouched down on his haunches and looked her square in the face. Up close for the first time, she realized that his eyes were a golden brown, the color of the honey they harvested every spring. There was a small golden hoop piercing the lobe of his left ear, and another on the left side of his nose. But the most unusual thing was his vallaslin; a light, unobtrusive grey, like charcoal water, depicting a twisted briar in stark contrast, lightly shadowing half of his face - the patron symbolism for Elgar'nan. Hardly anybody honored the god of vengeance anymore, at least not that she knew of.

Those full lips quirked into a devilish smirk, reminding her that he wasn't a sculpture to study, and he rephrased his question.

'I've been seeing you around for a while now. Every time I look at you, you're wearing a frown. You're obviously miserable. Why?'

She stared at him in shock for a moment, and then collected herself and looked at the ground. Shrugging, she replied.

'I'm not miserable, not really.' Lie.

'Then why the long face? I've seen Sylvans look less haunted.'

Confused and a little annoyed, she peered up at him again. 'What is a Sylvan?'

'It's a possessed tree. That isn't my point. Look, I'm just wondering why you look so unhappy if you insist you aren't. That's all.'

She arched an eyebrow. 'Spirits take hold of the trees, where you're from? Spooky.'

At this point she could feel some of her wariness loosening its grip. Maybe he really did want to hear about her problem, even though they were strangers.

He actually laughed at this, a highly appealing sound that made her squirm.

'You're funny. I like that. So why do you keep avoiding my question, ma ni?

'Why do you want to know so badly? We're perfect strangers.'

He grinned at her words. 'It doesn't matter. Nobody deserves to look so grim day after day, without an ear to talk to. It may as well be mine.'

'I don't usually talk to other people about my problems,' she admitted.

'Maybe that should change today.'

Tongue made of butter.

The words jumped out of their own volition, in the presence of someone so keen to listen.

'I hate my apprenticeship, okay? Weaving isn't what I want to do.' Maybe he'll understand.

But it became immediately clear to Eilahnen that the hunter didn't understand. His face screwed up in confusion, and he shook his head, as if unsure he had heard correctly.

'What do you mean, you hate your apprenticeship?'

'I...dislike it heavily?'

'And, what, your parents force you to continue?' His brows had furrowed. 'Why?'

'No, no, my parents don't even know. It isn't their fault.'

'Oh. So...why don't you just switch to something else? Why did you take that one on in the first place?'

This was not going very well.

'I...' she struggled to find the words, to make him understand. She was suddenly embarrassed all over again.

'I do it because of my parents. I don't want to be a Weavewoman, but they've always dreamed that I would follow in my mother's footsteps. I didn't know what I wanted to do, for sure...so I just did what I knew they wanted.' What a bizarre conversation to be having with a stranger.

'And now you're regretting it?' His face had straightened out, and he no longer looked confused. Some other emotion seemed to sit on the edges of his features. Maybe he was starting to understand after all?

'Yes. I do.'

'Every day?'

'Every day.' Where was this going?

'If your parents knew that were unhappy,' he asked slowly, 'would they support you changing your apprenticeship to something different?'

'I...don't know,' she replied, flushing.

'And yet, you don't change your situation, because this is what someone else would want.' He was eyeing her directly now, and his words had been a statement, not a question.

Warily, she responded. 'Yes. They've always played a very direct, important role in my life.'

Then the hunter did something she definitely hadn't been expecting: he tsked. Loudly, and impatiently.

'You mean they make your decisions for you.' His inscrutable expression was gone, replaced with disbelief, and something considerably more sour.

Shock rolled over Eilahnen, as well as a considerable wave of hurt. Where had this sudden accusation come from?

'What do you—?'

His next words cut her off.

'That's honestly kind of ridiculous. Where is your spine?'

Eilahnen's jaw clicked audibly open; her eyes bulged as she looked at him in utter disbelief. His words, so unexpected and rude, had hit her like a physical slap, and she struggled to respond.

'Ex...Excuse me?'

The man who had looked so intent and open at first was gone, replaced now by an equally disbelieving sneer. His eyes were bright with some kind of incredulous fire.

'Why so shocked? I'm the one who can't believe what I'm hearing. I watch you moping around for the better part of a week, wondering what in your life could possibly be so awful, and when I finally get you alone to ask, you tell me that you choose your own unhappiness for the comfort of people who don't even live your life?'

His hands had started to move around erratically as he spoke. Before she could answer, he continued.

'People who might support what you want, if you would just tell them? But you refuse – you just do what you assume is expected of you.'

The silence after his statement rang between them like brass bells, and was rivaled only by the blood that had started to roar in Eilahnen's ears. Heat had been swelling inside of her chest from the moment she'd understood that his sympathy had morphed into mockery; now the accusation in his voice had her blood nearing a boil.

'I'm shocked. When I first laid eyes on you, there was no indication that you were such a pushover.'

Resolutely, he straightened up out of his crouch and towered over her, looking down on her both figuratively and literally.

But his words were like hot coals underneath her, and she came springing to her feet right after him. Scandalized, the picture of indignance, her hands were actually clenched into fists as she replied in little less than a shout.

'Where do you get off saying things like that to me? You don't even know me. I have reasons behind my choices! Things you obviously can't understand,' she spat. And to think she'd been starting to develop an attraction to him!

'Oh?' His eyes still gleamed with that strange fire. 'Can I not possibly understand the choices of a person I don't even know?' He laughed at her seething glare, and it was a mirthless sound.

'You're right—I don't know you in the slightest, nor do I want to overstep. You are, after all, the only child of some of the clan's most important members. But where I come from, people don't stand around pissing on themselves, and say it's raining. We need something, we make it happen.'

'You bastard,' Eilahnen choked disbelievingly. 'How dare you attack me like this?'

Her voice shook with the weight of her emotions, a visceral response that scared her. Nobody had ever made her so angry before, so defensive. Then again, no one had ever had the gall to talk to her like this before.

'I didn't ask you to listen to my problems. You came to me, prying! So don't try to pretend that you have some sort of insight into who I am, or why I do the things I do!' She was practically yelling now, and her breath was a bit ragged when she stopped.

But he wasn't finished, she could tell. As she had stormed at him, he had stood back and watched her, a look of polite interest on his face, his eyes thoughtful. When he did speak, he sounded calm, almost triumphant.

'So not entirely spineless, then. No...now I'm starting to think it's more likely that you're all set up this way, and deep down that's okay with you. You have an easy living that was thrust upon you, and on top of that, you get to wallow in self-adoration over what a martyr you are. That's what it looks like to me.'

She could only gape—primarily because her fury was clogging up her throat, but a small part of her squirmed in uncomfortable denial, because the words snagged at her and she hated it. What could this asshole possibly know about her?

A surprising, uncomfortable amount, was the whisper that returned to her. Finally, face flushed bright red from anger, she found her voice.

'Who raised you? A wild animal?' she hissed. She took a blind step back, and almost tripped in the discarded pile of cordage she'd forgotten all about.

'You have no right to talk to me this way. Why couldn't you just stay back with your own clan?'

He sneered, and she'd learn later that she had hurt him with those words, but right now she couldn't have cared less. She wheeled around and took off like an arrow in the direction of her family aravel, wishing only to get away from Elendren, and her own crush of emotions. As she plunged ahead she heard him call after her, loud and clear, his voice confident and mocking:

'This is my clan, now. I'm just trying to toughen it up.'

Eilahnen sprinted home in the rapidly falling darkness, fighting off both tears and the strong desire to scream, passing her mother in front of the cook fire without acknowledging her questioning look.

Silently, she leapt up the front steps that folded out from the belly of the aravel and ripped aside the bright red curtain that served as a makeshift door. Climbing the ladder affixed to her immediate left, she found herself in the loft where she slept and kept her things, and she hurled herself face down on her browse bag, fuming.

Later, when the stew was ready, she sat down with her parents at their small dining rug as usual. But she was much too quiet, and both her mother and father could tell that something had her in a stormy mood. The scraping of spoon against bowl was all that could be heard throughout most of the meal, and Eilahnen was too aggravated to notice her parents sharing meaningful glances over her head. As soon as she was finished, Eilahnen excused herself; sensing she wanted to be alone, her parents bid her goodnight and left the aravel arm in arm for a nighttime stroll.

The moment they'd gone, Eilahnen was back on her browse bag, staring at the ceiling of her loft. She was still fuming, her emotions a tangled mess as indiscernible as June's knot. Just this morning, she'd thought to herself that if you had no one else to mock your cowardice, you had to do it yourself. But as it turned out, she didn't like someone else doing it for her!

It was true; she was the daughter of important people, and no one had ever spoken to her before the way he had that night. Callous and presumptive, mocking and provoking...but also, loathe as she was to admit it, insightful. The asshole.

The entire thing had happened in maybe ten minutes, but to her it seemed an eternity of unwarranted injustice. As the soothing sounds of nighttime and a few cheerful notes from a lyre came drifting through her window, Eilahnen squirmed in discomfort, forced for the first time in far too long to examine herself in new lighting. Could Elendren, the bastard, be right? Could it be that she had settled for an easy life, her potential wasted, and now she was acting like a martyr?

Long into the night she fretted over these questions, and she was so shaken by the whole thing that it was only later, when she was actively trying to fall asleep, that she realized he had never even asked for her name.

Come back next Tuesday to read chapter three!