A/N: I really appreciate all the reviews this story has been getting! They mean a lot to me. I wanna give a special shoutout to my friend Everscamps, as well as to Judy! Your reviews have really made me smile. And now, on to chapter 7!

Another day dawned over the Lavellan encampment, but on that particular morning, 'dawn' could be considered a bit of a misnomer. As a province, the Free Marches was accustomed to more than its fair share of rain, and in the Wycome Valley, it looked like they were about to get some more; the clouds were making a low, sullen ceiling of the sky, and the sun, finding no cracks in the pearly gray mass, was forced to illuminate the world as best it could from far above.

The result was a day that somehow felt and smelled sharper; the air was thick with ozone, and the colors of nature all seemed muted—all but the greens, which stood out more vividly than ever.

But what really stood out to Eilahnen that morning was the birds.

At the first tinge of light in the sky, they'd all come bursting to life; Eilahnen had watched as they'd flown overhead, diving and swooping in a mass of cheerful feathers, chattering madly amongst themselves, hardly pausing long enough to scoop up a morsel of food. Now, as the day truly dawned behind the clouds, and the Dalish milled busily around the camp, they had started up a chorus. From where Eilahnen sat in the grass, she could see birds of different types in every direction, perched on aravels, flitting through the trees, hopping along on the ground, and all of them singing joyfully with everything they had.

She knew what they were so excited about, and it warmed her weary heart. Spring had finally settled over Wycome, and the birds were rejoicing over the end of another long, cold winter. Even though the day was grey and muted, the birds could see the bigger picture. That was what really spoke to her; even though they couldn't see the sun, their song spoke of change, and hearing it gave her hope.

Today was her third consecutive day of sitting amidst the crafters and not participating, and it was starting to wear on her. With every twinge of irritation Eilahnen felt, she'd remind herself to have patience, to have faith in herself, to relinquish what she couldn't control. But on this particular morning, she found it hard to convince herself.

The class was progressing readily without her; since she'd dropped her apprenticeship, they'd twisted their pulp strands into impressive coils of thick, tough rope, and her mother and the Hearthmistress had pronounced them worthy of use by the rest of the clan. Revassa in particular had glowed with pride when some hunters and smiths came to gather the coils, and Eilahnen had congratulated her friend with genuine warmth. This morning, they were starting on a moderately more complicated project: hand-made netting. When her mother had started giving her instruction earlier on, Eilahnen had watched with some mild interest, but now she was just enjoying the bird song and watching Revassa work.

Revassa's reaction to her change of heart had been even more laid back than her parents', and had thoroughly shamed Eilahnen yet again. As soon as she'd asked her why she wasn't participating, and Eilahnen had explained that she was dropping the study, Revassa had asked why. When she'd (nervously) admitted to her deep and self-inflicted unhappiness, the green-eyed girl had stared silently at her for several seconds with genuine sadness etched on her face. Then she'd just shaken her head. 'Eilahnen,' she'd lamented. 'for goodness' sake, why would you do that? Your parents love you, that much I know. They'd want you to be happy, no matter what you wanted! If it's made you unhappy, then staying in this class was silly of you.'

Eilahnen remembered the blush that had crept up the back of her neck and into her cheeks after that.

'So you don't think I'm making a mistake, leaving the class this late?'

Revassa had snorted. 'It isn't that late. When it comes to getting what you want, it's never too late.'

'So...you don't mind that I'm leaving the class?'

Eilahnen had sat there staring at the other girl then, painfully aware of how inept she was at successfully maneuvering the obstacles of friendship. Once they had no reason to come together every day anymore, she'd have no idea how to keep this girl around, and knowing it made her squirm.

Revassa had simply smiled, and giggled. 'Of course not! You don't need to be a crafter to be my friend, Lahni.'

And that had been it. Just like that, Revassa had accepted her choices. Just like that, somehow, she had a real friend.

That had been two days ago. Now, her friend had her eyes screwed up in concentration, tongue poking out of her mouth as she steadily passed her shuttle through the guiding loop, gradually building the weave of her net. Occasionally she would make some small mistake, and her brow would crinkle as she let out a tiny tsk. Then, with endless patience, she would dutifully go back and correct the mistake, her face smoothing out again when it was time to move on.

Eilahnen watched this in silence for a long time; simply enjoying the rhythm, taking in small details. If she had realized that her staring might come across as strange, she would have worried about it. But the thought didn't occur to her, and she spent several peaceful minutes in mere observation. She was so entranced in Revassa's mannerisms that it startled her when the other girl finally noticed her watchful gaze, and met her eyes directly with a laugh.

'I'm sure it's not my netting that has you staring so hard, lethallan,' she said playfully. 'What's on your mind? You seem a hundred miles away.'

Eilahnen realized then that there was something she wanted to ask her.

'Revassa...do you love doing what you do?' She gestured to the netting lying out flat in front of them. 'I mean to ask, are you really, truly happy, being a crafter?'

'Oooh.' Setting down her shuttle, Revassa crossed her legs and looked over at her.

'I do, Eilahnen, I really do.' There was a hint of sympathy on her lovely face, and Eilahnen thought she understood; she was coming to understand that the younger Sabrae girl was exceedingly sensitive, both of herself and others.

'I've wanted to be a crafter since I was just a little girl,' she continued. 'I always thought it was the perfect mix of practical and beautiful. Why do you ask?'

Eilahnen sighed. 'I guess I'm envious of you. I used to have such a strong sense of purpose, and now I don't, and I'm worried that I never will again.'

'Oh, Lahni, no.' Revassa instantly took one of her hands into both of her own and started to rub it reassuringly, the picture of empathy. 'You shouldn't think like that. You will find your purpose again, you will. You just need patience.'

'Patience is something I'm kind of short on, if you haven't noticed.'

Revassa rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. 'Eilahnen, I'm serious. In time, you'll figure it out.' Giving her hand one last squeeze, she let Eilahnen go.

She bit off a sigh. 'I don't know. I think my major problem is that I'm lacking passion, not that I'm lacking patience.'

Her friend's eyebrows winged up, and she stared at her pointedly. 'With enough patience, your passion will come to you, delav'en.'

She was half-way through some forgettable retort when something in the background caught Revassa's eye; the girl lifted her gaze for a better look, and then her expression instantly shuttered.

'Revassa? What is it? What's wrong?' She made to turn around and look herself, but Revassa grabbed her arm to hold her in place.

'It's him, Eilahnen. He came again.'

Eilahnen whipped her head around.

It was Elendren. She still hadn't told Revassa about their argument in the clearing, though she'd asked a few more times. But despite not knowing why, Revassa had accepted the fact that Eilahnen didn't like seeing him.

The argument had taken place over a week ago—nine days, to be exact. And Elendren had made a point of walking by the crafting classes' meeting place every single morning since then, without fail.

Revassa suggested that perhaps he only wanted to scope Eilahnen out, but Eilahnen was positive that it was to torment her, and said as much. He always did the exact same thing; he'd walk by with his head held high, and then turn to look at her midway across the clearing. He'd lock eyes with her, give her that same infuriating little smirk, the same mock salute, and then turn his head and leave, all without breaking stride. It was as if he was checking to make sure she was still a push-over, and then mocking the fact that she was.

Revassa had observed this exchange a couple times and then offered, fairly upset herself, to go inquire with Elendren about his strange and rude behavior, but Eilahnen had immediately forbade her.

'I couldn't live it down if you did,' she'd choked, and eventually Revassa had given up.

And so, they'd just developed a little ritual. They'd go about their morning, and when Elendren made his entrance, Revassa would warn her, or else she'd tell Revassa, if she saw him first. And Eilahnen would stare him down until he left.

But that morning, Elendren broke the pattern.

He walked midway across the clearing, and he turned his head to look at her. They made eye contact.

But then, he stopped. Stopped walking, and stopped smirking. He stared at her, and the strangest expression came over his face as he took in the fact that all around her students were learning, and she was doing nothing.

She sneered at him in reply—how had it taken him three days to notice?

For a long, long moment, they were both perfectly still, staring at each other, every second making Eilahnen more and more defensive.

What is that idiot thinking?

And then she got the answer to her question. His face settled into an expression that spoke volumes. It was incredulous disbelief, and some kind of dismissal. Everything about him seemed to be asking, really? And then that smirk returned, the smirk that never failed to infuriate her. He didn't need to say a word, and yet Eilahnen was sure she'd received the message; he had been taking his time measuring her over the days since their fight, and now, at her lowest, he'd found her lacking. It was as if he'd always suspected she would end up this way, and now he'd confirmed it for himself.

He didn't salute her this time—he was shaking his head when he turned away and walked off.

Revassa started to speak, but her words went unheard, unnoticed.

Eilahnen was seeing red.

Thoughts were flashing through her head like fireworks; the shame and embarrassment of her situation pricking her like a burr, now burning at Elendren's obvious judgement. Mortification at her initial attraction to him. And an altogether deeper, boiling rage: all her life, she'd been treated with respect and courtesy; whether it was because of who her parents were didn't matter. What mattered was that as a result, she'd never known how it felt, not really, to be disrespected this way—looked down on, underestimated, laughed at. Now that was over. Elendren had done it; had labelled her weak and unworthy that night in the clearing, without even knowing her...now he'd very clearly written her off.

And she was quickly discovering that she did not like it. More than that, she wouldn't tolerate it.

Her chest was actually swelling with rage; her heart was pounding a painful tattoo against her ribs. Her vision was shimmering a bit at the edges, and her hands had clenched into fists. She saw Revassa was now speaking urgently to her, but she couldn't hear a word she said.

The passion that Eilahnen had been mourning for months was now rushing through her with such speed and force that she was drowning in it. It was dawning on her, all at once, what she needed to do.

She would make herself into the strongest, most capable woman she could be—push herself to the limits, and then surpass them. She would become a woman who was formidable, and respected for who she was—and she would do it for herself.

That was her passion—making enough of herself to satisfy her. And then she could rest in the knowledge that nobody else's opinion had to matter.

She'd known that night on the clifftop that she wanted challenge and chase from her life, but now she was realizing what form it should take. It was the daydream that had been dancing in her head since she was a young girl: herself, fierce and proud, with a bow in hand and a quiver at her side, stalking the plains. Following in Andruil's footsteps. A hunter; beauty and practicality, rolled into one.

She saw Elendren in her mind again, goading her, and she forcefully shoved against the image until it shattered. He'd served his purpose, in challenging her. Now she had to take all the ensuing fury and determination, and mould it into something that would work for her.

Feeling as if she could actually fly, Eilahnen leapt to her feet, and sprinted away from where she'd been sitting in the grass. As she flew across the clearing, she could hear her mother and Revassa calling after her. But she didn't stop, didn't turn back, didn't slow down. The path was finally clear to her.

She got a lot of curious looks thrown her way as she sprinted across the camp, but she wasn't going to stop for anybody—not until she reached her destination.

The hunter's class.

She was out of breath when she got there, and the second she stopped running, everyone in attendance turned to stare at her. There were just over a dozen students, both male and female, roughly her age, and all familiar faces. The teacher, an experienced hunter named Inar, was standing at the head of the class. Beside him was Ghilen, a hunter a handful of years her senior, presumably there to assist him.

She noticed Elendren last, standing back and to the left of Inar, and staring at her as if he couldn't believe his eyes. But she refused to hold his gaze.

For a moment there was an awkward silence, broken only by Eilahnen's panting. Inar, known within the clan to be both very handsome and very blunt, was currently looking very interrupted; his chiseled face was marred with annoyance, and as the silence stretched he ran an exasperated hand through his thick brown hair. Finally, he spoke to her.

'Can I help you with something, lass?'

It was obvious that he would rather do anything but, and the many eyes stuck to her were making her want to squirm. But she looked the man squarely in the eye, and when she answered, it was with a lot more authority than she felt.

'I want to be a hunter. I'm here for you to teach me.'

For a moment, Inar looked as if his hearing had failed him.

'I beg your pardon? You want me to...teach you?'

She lifted her chin. 'That's right.'

He stared at her in silence for another second, apparently at a loss for words. Then, slowly, he began to laugh; hearty, rolling laughter that made his shoulders shake. Before she knew it, the rest of the class had joined in, and Ghilen and Elendren were the only ones still standing there in silence.

Her nerves instantly evaporated, and were replaced with bristling indignity. What right did any of these people have to doubt her? To laugh in her face?

Without really planning to, Eilahnen marched across the grass toward Inar, forcing several students to either move aside or get stepped on in her wake.

Inar's laughter had died away in her approach, and he was once again looking baffled and annoyed. When she stopped in front of him and he spoke to her again, he no longer sounded amused.

'You're...serious?'

'Yes, I'm serious,' she shot back. The students had stopped snickering, deciding instead to gape at her, but Eilahnen paid them no mind.

The teacher gave her the briefest of once-overs before he audibly scoffed. Impatience was rolling off of him in waves, and he actually rolled his eyes.

'Well, in that case, you're out of luck, pup.' His voice was thick with sarcasm. 'You happen to be three weeks late, and students of mine take their classes seriously. Now,' his eyes narrowed as he appraised her.

'Do Athras and Brierdahla know you're here? I need you to stop disrupting my lesson, and go back to the Crafter's circle. That's where you belong.'

He lifted one hand in a clear dismissal, and then turned to say something to Ghilen, pretending she was already gone.

Eilahnen's ears were starting to ring, but she could still hear the laughter of the students starting to rise up again around her. She felt hideously self-conscious and exposed, and a part of her—the part she'd spent most of her life listening to—wanted to just shrink away and go home. But this time, she refused to give in. This time, she told herself, she was standing her ground.

'You're wrong, Inar,' she said loudly. Stiffly, Inar turned around, looked at her again.

'You're wasting everyone's time, lass. I've said my piece. Now go.'

'I won't.' She clenched her hands into fists. 'I've given it a lot of thought. I know I started off in a different apprenticeship, but this is what I want.'

Immediately, he snorted derisively.

'Given it a lot of thought?' He threw his hands up into the air. 'You don't know the first thing about being a hunter's apprentice! Look at you!' He shot out a hand, waved it at her vaguely.

'You're not even dressed for the part, Andruil's sake! If you'd put any thought at all into this discipline, you'd at least know that.'

'Excuse me?' Eilahnen looked swiftly down, examining herself. Seeing nothing amiss, she scowled. 'What are you talking about?'

'Your dress, lass!' Inar looked like he wasn't far from having a fit. 'Any prospective hunter knows to at least show up in pants! And your hair!' Gesturing with great irritation now, he mimicked the long fall of her hair. 'The hunters of this clan know to come to lessons with their hair pulled or braided back, if they'd like to keep it from the trees!'

She tried to respond, but the man cut her off, angrily shaking his head.

'Eilahnen.' He spoke her name for the first time, and hearing it made her stiffen.

'If I had any reason to believe that you were serious about this class, then I would have considered letting you in despite being late. But I don't. I don't, and you're clearly not. Now go, back to your class, and just let this foolishness go.'

Eilahnen stood there, mouth hanging slightly open, for several seconds. Then she clicked it shut, whirled decisively on her heel, and stomped off in the direction she'd come from.

She could hear the unfriendly laughter of the students ringing after her as she left, but it no longer phased her. In fact, it only fuelled the fire burning in her gut.

Inar had a hard time regaining the attention of the class after she left; everyone wanted to gossip and snicker about the senior warrior's daughter crashing their lesson and demanding to be let in more than three weeks late. Inar himself was visibly irritated, making only half-hearted attempts at wrangling the students into line, and muttering to himself in between. Ghilen was secretly impressed, but didn't dare say as much to his fellow hunter for fear of getting a loud earful. The only person in the entire clearing to hold his silence was Elendren; he leaned quietly against a convenient boulder, his face set into a brooding mask, and therefore he was easily ignored.

The generally agreed-upon speculation was that she'd gone running off to cry somewhere, after Inar told her off.

The truth was something different..

Eilahnen gave her mother's crafting circle a wide berth on her trip back across the encampment; she'd kept a brisk pace, never slowing down to interact with anybody, and she'd stomped determinedly straight to her family's aravel.

Once she got inside, she'd gone to work.

She'd stripped off her green cotton dress, balled it up, and thrown it into a corner. The dress had been promptly replaced with a plain linen shirt that had sleeves to the elbow and a neckline with a lace-up. After that came a pair of the ever-important pants—a thick brown cotton legging that clung to her legs all the way up.

Without pausing, she'd gone to grab her mother's hand mirror, and had propped it up against a cushion on the floor.

Sitting cross-legged in front of it, she'd taken a minute to examine the face in the reflective glass; her face, with its pale skin, and spray of freckles over the nose. The markings of June trailed from her forehead to her throat in a muddled sort of blue, and her nose sat somewhere in between, straight and long. The eyes that met her were big and upturned, and they threw off shades of both violet and blue. And a mass of tumbling silver hair fell straight down the middle in sheets, framing either side.

For the longest time, it had felt like the face in that mirror wasn't her own. But staring at it then, Eilahnen felt some ownership over the slopes and planes.

With determination tingling from every pore, she'd grabbed her brush.

It was the hair that had taken the most time; Eilahnen had never really cared to fuss with her own hair before. But after some exploration, she quickly discovered that braiding wasn't really that different from weaving, and after that she had no trouble. When she was finished, her fall of long, thick hair was twisted, braided and gathered into a stylish and elaborate updo that she found she actually liked, and that left her face unframed and on display.

Taking one more look to make sure she was satisfied, Eilahnen had left the aravel and marched straight back to the hunter's lecture.

And now, about an hour from when she'd stormed away, here she was. She'd marched right back up to the students still sitting in the grass. This time, some of them had noticed her coming, and the small clearing had lit up with shocked and buzzing whispers. By the time she'd actually walked right up into the middle of the class, complete silence had fallen. Students were openly gaping at her, but she wasn't paying them any mind—she only had eyes for Inar.

Inar looked as if he couldn't believe his eyes, and was considering yanking them out. Taking three steps toward her, he started to speak.

'Lass, I told you to stay away. You are disrupting my class and disrespecting my authority. You—'

'Inar.' She cut him off. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked up at him stubbornly. 'I've fixed what you said was wrong, and now I'm back. I want you to teach me.'

He gaped for a minute, seemingly at a loss for words.

'I will not! You don't get to come swaggering into my lecture several weeks late and just demand that I let you into the group. You're a naive little thing if you think I'll be cowed by a child!'

Blue eyes met pale brown, and for a time they simply stared each other down, neither party giving an inch. The students were collectively thunderstruck. Poor Ghilen didn't know what to do with himself, and kept uselessly alternating between standing up and sitting down.

Inar was a stubborn and prideful man, but Eilahnen was fired up with a confidence she didn't know she had, and she refused to back down. She'd come this far, and as far as she was concerned, there was no going back. The hunter was just going to have to accept it. Putting her hands on her hips, she started to talk.

'Listen to me, Inar, please. I'm not trying to cow you, or disrespect you. I acknowledge that you're my elder. But you're being pig-headed.' Inar tried to interrupt, but she just raised her voice.

'Listen to me! I'm sorry that I'm late, but there's nothing I could have done! I didn't really know how I wanted to contribute to our clan. I picked crafting, and I know now that I picked wrong. I came here as soon as I knew that this was what I wanted. I'm willing to prove myself,' she continued. 'I did everything you said. I put on your stupid pants, and I braided my hair. And again, I know you're my elder. But do you really deserve my respect if you're going to try and bar me from learning just because of when I showed up?'

The words were flowing out of her now, and all of her fear had disappeared. For one of the first times in her life, Eilahnen was radiating not just composure, but authority. And she wasn't done.

'I promise to work hard. I swear I'll catch up. I'll do whatever I have to, learn everything I need to know, to earn my place in this class. I just need you to stop dismissing me. I just need you to teach me.'

Eilahnen fell silent, and noticed that she was breathing a little hard. Inar noticed too; his demeanor had morphed somewhat while she shouted at him, and his expression was now an inscrutable mask. When he spoke again, it was with considerably less heat than before.

'Look, lass, it's not that simple. I can't just let you—'

'You don't have to let me do anything!' She cut him off again, explosively, and threw her hands into the air. 'It's actually very simple, Inar. This isn't just your culture, it's mine too. That includes all of the practices and skills in the culture. By trying to withhold this apprenticeship from me, you're denying me my right to the Dalish way of life.' She started walking up to him again, until she was so close that she had to crane her neck to look him in the eye. She realized distantly that she was shouting, but she didn't care.

'Hunter Inar,' she continued in a rush, 'I'm invoking vir sulevanan. When it comes to our way of life, I think knowledge can be just as important as physical property, and it belongs to all of the People. Pick a task, any task you want. Anything that you decide will prove that I'm good enough to join the hunters, and I'll do it. Hunting is what I've decided I want to do with my life, and you can't stop me. You can't stop me, Inar. So teach me.'

If a feather had hit the grass in the clearing just then, everyone would have heard it. Nobody dared to breathe.

As the silence stretched on, Eilahnen stood frozen, staring at Inar as sweat began to trickle down her lower back. The hunter's face had become completely unreadable, and as the high of her blazing determination started to fade, an unfamiliar nervousness began to settle in the pit of her stomach.

At last, after what seemed like an eternity, Inar finally spoke.

'In fifteen years of teaching, no one has ever spoken to me this way. Ever.'

Dread clamped down on Eilahnen's throat, so that she couldn't find a voice to reply with.

A new silence started to grow. But then, a small miracle happened.

Right when Eilahnen was starting to feel like she was definitely doomed, Inar's mask split apart, and he hit her with an enormous, beaming smile.

'In fifteen years, lass, you're the first. And it seems it's worked out for you.'

Eilahnen blinked like an owl.

'W...what?'

Inar uncrossed his arms, ran another hand through his hair.

'I'm saying, lass, that I believe you. You refused to back down, and I believe now that you have what it takes. I'm willing, now, to teach you.'

She could barely believe what she was hearing, and her stomach was clenching like a fist, but she didn't want to risk losing face in front of the man, so she struggled to keep her face smooth and her voice steady.

'And what about my task, for the vir sulevanan? What will you have me do?'

The hunter actually chuckled.

'There is no task. I'm not going to make you invoke the rite.'

Eilahnen was thunderstruck. 'You're...you're not?'

'No, lass.'

'Why?'

He gave a hearty laugh. 'Because catching up to the rest of the class is going to be task enough. Congratulations, Eilahnen. You're in.'

Eilahnen finally allowed herself to look around her. Boys and girls alike were looking at her with a medley of expressions; some harbored clear resentment, some just plain confusion, and some, a newfound respect. It was only then that she allowed herself, somewhat reluctantly, to look at Elendren.

His expression wasn't anything that she'd expected. He was looking disarmed, and staring at her strangely—as if for the first time since meeting her, he didn't know what to think. Their eyes met for a moment, and Eilahnen couldn't resist hitting him with a smirk of her own.

Inar cleared his throat then, pulling her back into the moment, and spoke again.

'You're an apprentice, now, yes. But there's one more condition.'

He was looking suddenly stern, and she shivered as fresh nerves ran through her. Stubbornly, she squared her shoulders.

'Oh? And what condition is that?'

'That you respect my title, da'len. From now on, it's Master Inar to you.'

The laugh came loose unexpectedly from her chest, and Inar gave a smile in reply that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

'Alright then, Master Inar. I agree to your terms. When do we begin?'

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