A/N: Warning, mild language.

Duncan had warned Nike of this, back all those ages ago on the road to Ostagar.

"We need to burn it," she said, looking at the poor dead beast with a mix of revulsion and pity. "Anything that eats it will end the same."

"Smoke column would bring the soldiers running," Carver said. Adaon pursed her lips and stepped back a pace, regarding the dead deer. Her head tilted this way and that.

"I've got it," she said at last, and her brother narrowed his eyes.

"Magefire still makes smoke," he said, and she rolled her eyes.

"I didn't know, so glad you're here. Step back please, Nike. I don't want you to go in too. Carver, you can stay right where you are. I may be able to solve two problems with one stick."

She waggled the odd chunk of wood in her hand. Her brother snorted, and stepped back with Nike as well.

"What is that?" Nike asked him as Adaon held the stick out.

"Part of our father's old staff," he replied. "Mage staves help them focus and direct their powers. A mage with a staff is quite a lot stronger than one without. And they're pretty good at knocking things about if the enemy gets too close. Bethany's got the other part, she made it look like a bo. Doesn't get too many questions that way."

Nike nodded thoughtfully. Of course Adaon couldn't walk around with a mage staff without questions suddenly arising. This one looked like a heavy bole or knot of wood, slightly L shaped, and the broken end had been carefully sharpened to a dagger point.

Adaon made a gesture with it over the deer, and a thin film of green light suddenly sped after it, chasing the motion like a mabari pup after its own tail. She traced what looked like runes with this odd light, and with every swirl or dip it made, the green grew stronger, and more miasmic. Then, to Nike's surprise, the traces of light began to drip, then run, pattering down like an ill rain upon the deer.

Where they touched, the beast started to steam and dissolve.

Acid, Nike thought, and covered her mouth and nose with one wrist. The steam started to billow but it was pale, and did not raise over the lower branches of the nearby trees. Unlike smoke, it would not be seen at a distance. The deer had turned into a steaming pile of sludge and bone, when Adaon's gestures suddenly changed. Now, the dirt beneath the deer was opening with a soft, slipping sort of rumble. The still smoldering remains sank into a small pit, and then the dirt closed back up around them until not a mark could be seen. Only then did Adaon straighten, and tuck the dagger-staff back into her belt.

"There we go, neat and clean," she said.

"Won't something dig it up?" Carver asked.

"I doubt there will be anything left of it by the time something tried," Nike said, and scanned the woods. She felt no more of those odd little tugs in her gut, but where there was one animal corrupted by the taint, there would be more.

Her worry turned to Morrigan. She had winged off back toward the house but there was no saying if she had truly returned there. Carver had noticed her a time or two while he was hunting, though that should have been before her cranky little snap at the pair of them.

If she runs into a tainted animal out here, she could be hurt, she thought. But, no. Morrigan was a mage herself, and savvy. She was probably safer out here than they were at the moment.

"We should go back to the house," Carver said, unconsciously echoing part of Nike's concerns. "It's a tainted deer now, but it could be wolves or foxes close after. Maker forbid, even a bear. And the horde cannot be far behind."

"There's no more darkspawn near," Nike said. "At least, not yet. But they are coming, and sooner than I would have thought."

"How long do you think we have?" Adaon asked.

"I couldn't say. I'm too new to this. A few days, perhaps? Certainly no more than three or four."

"We need to let the village know," Carver said. "The Chantry. These people have got to start moving in the next day or two."

"For once, Carver, you're speaking sense," Adaon said. "Nike, come- we'll head back to the house. We'll have to make do with the squirrels- "

"Yes, you should go back," Nike told her. "The Gully- it's along this path? How much further?"

"You're still going to the Gully?" Carver asked.

"I will be fine," she said. "That Qunari will not be."

"That's noble of you but I think we have bigger concerns than the Qunari," Carver said. Adaon put her hand on her brother's shoulder a moment, then stepped past him.

"Go on, Carver. Go back to the house, let Mother and the other warden know. We'll be back soon."

"Oh, now you're staying too?"

"I'd be a poor host if I let our guest wander in these woods alone, warden or no warden," Adaon told him. "Half an hour more will make no difference one way or the other."

Carver gave her a distrusting look, then threw up his hands with a shrug. "Fine. Fine, I'll tell mother you'll be back in half an hour. Don't turn me into a liar, 'Day."

"You don't need my help for that," she said with a cutting little smirk. He just headed off back the way they'd come, mumbling arguments under his breath until he was out of sight.

Once he was gone, Adaon leaned over toward Nike and said, "This really is a terrible idea. I don't like the Chantry, but even they would have good cause to put that Qunari in a cage. Right now he should be the least of our concerns."

"He may very well be just that," Nike said. "I want to speak to him either way."

Adaon gave her a bright but dreamily befuddled smile. "You know, I really think I could get attached to you. All right, fearless one. It's just down a bit further."

Nike felt her face warm again slightly, and not unpleasantly. Sad as the thought made her, she decided it was probably a good thing she and Alistair were not going to be able to stay with the Hawke family for more than a day or two. She was certain she could get very attached to her too, if she had to spend any longer in the smiling sunshine that was Adaon Hawke.

They continued on, Nike paying particular attention to her stomach to make sure no other tainted creatures, darkspawn or otherwise, were close. The path soon dropped down to a shallow, dried stream bed, and from there finally into the small rocky hollow that was Cutter's Gully.

Old, rusted iron cages stood in a semi-circle like the old bones of some long dead leviathan. One had topped onto its side and no one, it seemed, had bothered to straighten it again. Various rubbish, including scraps of old clothes and what looked like belt buckles or metal eyelets, was strewn through heaps of leaf litter.

In one of the cages a man stood, almost perfectly still and watching them as if he had been expecting them.

Nike looked at him curiously as she approached the cage. He looked back with a neutral, implacable expression.

In tales, the Qunari had always been described as horned giants with iron skin. Nike knew better than to equate fanciful tales with reality- she'd grown up with more than one war-braggard in her family, whose tales of battle became more fantastic with each telling.

Even so, there usually was a kernel of truth hidden away in fancy. This man, however, seemed as far from that fancy as you could get.

He was a tall man, a head taller than she, but he was no giant. He had not a horn on his head, only white hair braided efficiently back from his face. His skin did not seem made of iron- at best, there was a dark and dusky cast to it which was a bit uncommon but would never have made her look twice.

Had the Hawkes been mistaken? He looked like any other human soldier without arms or armament.

"You are a Qunari?" she asked.

"I am," he said, and his voice was just as neutral.

"What are you called?"

"I am Sten of the Beresaad," he said. Nike's brows knit a bit. He seemed to have all of the personality of a rock.

"I am Nike," she said, and inclined her head a little. "Pleased to meet you."

"You mock me. Leave me in peace."

"Well, aren't you charming big guy?" Adaon said from where she stood a bit behind Nike. He looked at her.

"I will not amuse you."

"You're already amusing me," she replied.

"I'm not mocking you," Nike told him. "I'm curious. Why have you been caged?"

"I am a prisoner," he said, and she smiled slightly.

"Yes, I know. I- "

"He slaughtered an entire family," Morrigan said as she came into the Gully behind them. Ashamed that she was even a little startled, Nike turned to look at her.

"He what?" Adaon asked. Morrigan, her arms folded as she strode with a casual, thoughtless grace toward Nike, ignored the blonde as if she did not exist.

"Yes," Sten said, and Nike's head snapped back to him.

"It's true?" she asked, horrified. The images of her own slaughtered family rose unbidden in her mind. The pleasant afternoon had suddenly grown quite cold.

"Yes," he said, with no more feeling than he had otherwise.

"Recruiting more friends?" Morrigan asked Nike with an airy tone edged in ice.

"I thought it was horrible that the Chantry had caged a man, intending him to feed the darkspawn when they came," Nike said, feeling suddenly defensive. "Whatever his crime."

"Whatever his crime?" Morrigan asked pointedly. "Even a betrayal and the murder of an entire family?"

That one cut Nike hard, and her jaw tightened as she fixed Morrigan with a glare. "Don't you dare," she said in a low voice, unable to keep the tremble from it. For the tiniest moment, a flash of hesitancy was in Morrigan's yellow eyes. It passed so quickly Nike could not be certain it had been there.

"This is a proud and powerful creature," Morrigan said instead, as she looked toward Sten. "Trapped as prey for the darkspawn. If you can see no use for him I would suggest releasing him, for mercy's sake alone."

"Release him?" Adaon asked. "So he can go on and murder another family?"

"I would also suggest you put that apostate in his place," Morrigan said tersely, again without looking at Adaon.

"Me?" Adaon said, straightening with a thunderstruck expression. "That's pretty rich talk coming from you, Ms. Raven!"

"That's enough, both of you," Nike said. Whatever warmth and good humor she'd had that morning was melting away faster than ice in the sun, and the shadows seemed eager to rush into the void it left behind.

"I suggest you leave me to my fate," Sten said, and Nike returned her eyes to him. For a moment she didn't see him there at all. Instead, it was Rendon Howe, Oren's blood drying on his tunic. Nike's throat closed in the wash of fury and grief.

Does even Howe deserve this? she asked herself, and the answer her heart spoke back to her was as cold and frightening as the darkspawn themselves.

"Did you really murder an entire family?" Her voice sounded alien even to her own ears. Morrigan and Adaon had gone quiet, though she could almost hear both of them fuming at each other.

"I have been convicted of it, have I not?" he replied, in that same impenetrable, stoic calm.

"Did you do it?" she said through gritted teeth.

"Yes. Eight humans, in addition to the children."

Her throat burned with fire, and for a long moment she feared she would vomit. She was unconscious of her hands clenching at her sides.

"You speak as if you don't care," Adaon said when Nike could not manage it. She sounded just as horrified and disgusted as Nike felt.

"My feelings on the matter are irrelevant," he said. "My fate is decided."

"Why?" Nike's voice sounded rough, strangled. "Why did you do it?"

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"You are doing neither yourself nor this man a kindness in continuing," Morrigan said. "Let him free, or kill him where him where he stands, and be done with it."

"It matters," Nike said. When the Qunari only kept looking at her, she turned on her heel and started out of the Gully.

Holly's head came up under her hand, the dog giving a soft whine. She didn't look back, but heard both Adaon and Morrigan following her. A moment later a hand landed gently on her shoulder.

"Hey, are you all right?" Adaon asked.

"Clearly, she is not," Morrigan answered.

"She was fine until you showed up," Adaon shot back.

"Stop it," Nike said again, though it lacked venom. "Let's just get back to the house. I'm full up of these woods."

The hand slipped off her shoulder, and quiet fell. As they walked, Nike tried to chase the troubling thoughts that kept spinning in her mind.

The pair of squirrels made a thin stew, but Nike found she lacked the appetite for them anyway. Morrigan did not come in to the house- she had changed back into a raven and vanished in the trees as soon as it was in view. Adaon, sensing now was not the time for her usual brevity, only kept on quietly with Nike.

At supper, Nike met the last of the Hawkes, Carver's twin sister Bethany. She was a beautiful girl, though she seemed reserved and shy, a sharp contrast to her sister. Nike made all the right polite noises but her heart was not in it. Pleading weariness, it was only just before sunset when she moved into the small stable loft. Leandra Hawke had protested, insisting that she take the spare room, but Nike halfheartedly surrendered it to Alistair.

Adaon walked her out to the loft, and the genuine concern on her face -and Nike's hope to recapture some of the good of that morning- kept her from chasing her away.

They sat in the straw as the last golden slips of day fell through the dusty cracks in the barnwood, hand in hand. While Adaon had not pressed, Nike had found herself telling her of Howe and the slaughter of her family. It felt like a poisoned wound that needed draining. After she'd finished, Adaon said nothing for a long time.

"She knew that, didn't she?" she finally said. "Your apostate friend. She knew that your family had been killed, that this Rendon Howe betrayed them."

"She knew," Nike said, and couldn't keep the hurt out of her voice. Morrigan knew, and had wounded her with that knowledge. Why? She couldn't say.

"She seems a real peach of a friend to have," Adaon said, lightly teasing. "Remind me to have her round for Sunday dinner, she'll be the life of the party."

Nike managed a weak smile, and Adaon gently squeezed her hand.

"Seriously, though, I don't think it's really what Morrigan said that is bothering you," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, don't get me wrong. It was terrible to needle you like that, but…what was your answer?"

"My answer?" Nike asked, frowning.

"This Rendon Howe…would you lock him in that cage in the Qunari's place? For what he did to your family?"

"I don't know," Nike muttered. Adaon tilted her head a little, trying to meet her eyes.

"I don't think that's true," she said gently. "I think the real answer is what is tearing you apart. I think that the real answer is 'yes'. If you had the power, you would put him in that cage a thousand times over and watched as the darkspawn tore him to pieces slowly."

Nike let out a sob, and covered her face. "Am I a terrible person?"

Adaon wrapped her arms around her and made a quiet shushing sound. "No. No, you're not a terrible person at all. You're just human, Nike. If someone had killed my family, I'd want to rip them to shreds myself. Probably would. I'm pretty inventive, and as a mage, I'd have all sorts of creative ways to do it. What you should be focusing on is not that your answer was 'yes', but how that answer made you feel."

Nike wiped a hand over her face and looked up at her. "It made me feel that I deserved to be in that cage myself," she said.

"Right," Adaon said and smiled gently. "The answer made you feel sick, made you feel terrible, and that's how I know the real you, Nike. That's how you know the real you. You hate the man that killed your family and rightly so. But you're also not heartless, like he was. You're not cold, like he was."

"Do you think Sten should be in that cage?" Nike said. "He murdered children, Adaon. Kids. He admitted it."

Adaon rolled her head a little and made an uncertain noise. "I think I agree with what you said," she told her. "I think it does matter. The why, I mean. This Howe, he killed your family for what…greed? Power? Ambition? Cocksucker. He's a cocksucker with cocksucker reasoning. But this Qunari…why'd he do it? If it were for those same reasons, I'd say let him rot. You'll feel awful about it because you have a good heart, but let him rot all the same."

"I'm not sure I can think of a reason, a good reason, to kill children," Nike mumbled.

"Yeah, me neither," Adaon said. "And that's pretty shocking, I'm usually quite clever. I'll tell you what. I'm going into town in the morning. I promised you horses and provisions, and to ask about your brother and that elf girl. We also need to warn everyone the darkspawn are close. I'll stop by the Chantry too, see if I can't find out from them just what exactly happened with this Sten, ok?"

"I know you promised us horses and provisions, but you have barely enough for your own family," Nike said. "I can't hold you to that promise."

"Ah, but I have a secret," Adaon said, and gently brushed a finger aside her nose as she grinned. "I have a gift."

"What kind of gift?" Nike asked.

"No, that would be telling," she said lightly. "A Hawke never tattles, especially on themselves. Suffice it to say that when I make a promise, I always manage to keep it."

Nike's eyes were damp glitter in the growing dark. "Would you make me another promise, then?"

"What's that?" Adaon asked.

"Would you promise me that you'll keep yourself safe? That you'll get somewhere away from this Blight, away from the Circle? That no matter what happens…"

She trailed off and lowered her head, silently finishing the sentence that seemed much too childish and flowery all of a sudden to speak out loud.

That no matter what happens, that warm light that surrounds you never goes out?

Adaon's fingers curled under her chin and brought her eyes back up. "Done," she said with a smile, and this time Nike kissed her.

When they finally parted, Adaon blew out a soft breath, gently brushing a thumb over Nike's cheek. "I am going to miss you," she said.

"As much as all the other girls?" Nike asked with a weak tease in her voice and a faint smile on her face. Adaon laughed.

"Oh, much more, I think," she said. "You're really one of a kind, you know that Warden?"

"You're pretty unique yourself," Nike told her.

"I think the word you're hunting for is 'spectacular'," she said, and Nike laughed. Adaon kissed her forehead briefly, then sighed.

"I'd best get back in, before Carver shows up again to ruin my glow. I should be back before midmorning, hopefully with some news. I will see you then, all right?"

"Good night, Adaon. Rest well."

Adaon climbed back down out of the loft, and for a moment it was on Nike's lips to call her back. Instead, she lay back against the hay and covered her eyes with one hand.

She could rarely remember feeling so utterly bone weary, but sensed sleep was not going to be an easy needle to find in all the chaotic straw of her thoughts. She'd hardly had time to even start seeking it out, when a rattling tap echoed through the loft. Sitting up, she blinked at the small window across from her, and the large, raven shaped shadow that sat outside it.

She sat there, arms draped over her knees, for a very long time. Almost timidly, the raven leaned out again and gently tapped the glass with its beak. Brushing the straw off of her hair Nike sniffed and looked away, then thought better of it. Taking her time, she got to her feet, strolled over, and unfixed the latch. As the glass opened the bird hopped in, and Nike closed the window again.

"What do you want?" she said as the latch fell back into place.

"I…wanted to see how you were doing," Morrigan said, and it was the almost sheepish tone to her voice that made Nike look at her. She stood in a shaft of the new moonlight, looking at least somewhat contrite.

"I was having a lovely day, until you had to remind me of my murdered family," Nike said, folding her arms.

"I doubt I needed to," Morrigan said. "Or do you seriously suggest you had forgotten them?"

"Of course I hadn't forgotten them!" Nike replied, feeling her fury want to rise again. "I did not need my face rubbed in them!"

Morrigan looked defensive. "I am sorry," she said. "T'was not my intent to cause you pain. I have had little company before, save my mother, and I do not believe you can truly call her 'company'. I have no doubt my social graces can use some work."

Nike was too tired and miserable to be angry for long. Stepping past Morrigan she sat back down on the straw. "Where were you all day?" she asked.

The mage seemed a little taken aback by the question. "I was scouting about," she said. "When I was safely able, I was trying to listen in on the conversations of the refugees, glean news. That is how I learned of that man's imprisonment, and what he had done. I also discovered that you and the boy have- "

"A bounty on our heads, yes," Nike said tiredly. "Loghain seems to think that we betrayed the King. I don't know what to do. Trying to find help against the Blight, get information from the other Wardens…it's all going to be a thousand times harder now that every sell sword from here to the Marches is going to be looking for our heads."

"The answer seems simple enough," Morrigan said, leaning back against one rough wooden post.

"And what's that?"

She shrugged. "You should kill this Loghain."

Nike blinked, and sat up straighter, looking at her in astonishment. "Just kill Loghain? We can't do that!"

"Why not?" Morrigan asked, and seemed genuinely puzzled. "You would then be able to pursue the business of these treaties without interference."

"I can't just…just kill the man," Nike said. "I mean, killing someone who did something terrible is one thing- "

"Is quitting the field not a terrible thing? Is not spreading falsities about you and paying silver for your head without due process or trial not a terrible thing?"

"I don't know that he knows they're falsities," Nike said. "I mean, how does it look? Loghain had already set his men to light the beacon, but Duncan talked the king into changing that last minute, to send us instead. And suddenly the darkspawn are flooding in from the very tower we were sent to, overwhelming the camp and slaughtering the King and his men? We know we didn't, but he doesn't, does he? From his perspective, he saved the lives of as many people as he could from our treachery and the King's delusions of grandeur."

"You are very defensive of a man who has ordered your death," Morrigan said. "Perhaps he did what he thought best, but will that be a comfort when your head parts from your shoulders? Will that be a comfort to those who die when there are none to stop the Blight?"

Nike blew out a breath, raking her fingers through her hair in frustration. "I don't know," she said, and the weariness was back. "I don't know if you're right, or if I'm right…I don't know anything anymore. I just know that going to kill Loghain feels wrong to me. Maybe that will change but for now, I can't think that far ahead. The darkspawn are close, far closer than I'm comfortable with."

"Yes," Morrigan said, and she moved over and sat down beside Nike. "I saw your tainted deer."

Nike glanced at her out of the side of her eye. "Were there others?"

"Other poor woodland creatures with the taint? None so close," Morrigan said. "But you do not need me to tell you that time here grows short. I would not linger here. To stay beyond the morning, I fear, would be courting foolishness. It is by your leave, however. You are the warden. I am merely your humble guide."

"No," Nike said. "You're not merely anything, Morrigan. I told you that you can go, any time you want. I meant that. If you stay though, I need you to really stay. We need to all be in this together, without any doubts. I don't know much about battle or being a warden and my head hurts with it all but, I do know that. If we're not in this together, I don't think we have a mole's chance in a wolves' den to get through this."