Chapter 12: The Dalish

"Who are they Mithra?"

The senior hunter watched carefully as the outsiders made their way down the path. It was not the first time that strangers had wandered so close, but she had to admit that this was one of the strangest groups to appear on their borders.

"Mithra?"

"Hush Bellethiel," Mithra regarded her fellow hunter, Mithra was several summers older with blonde hair and silver eyes. Her fellow hunter was dark haired with violet ones. Bellethiel was still very young, she had only just received her vallaslin, her forehead still pink and raw where the blood writing had been cast. Her short dark hair was cropped close to the skull like a boy, but only a blind fool would mistake Bellethiel for a male. The girl had grown from a coltish, gawky da'len into a beautiful elvhen woman. Several of the hunters had expressed a desire to mate with her.

So far Bellethiel had refused them all, she had no interest in being bonded at this time.

She was also extremely curious, she did not understand the dangers that outsiders posed. Of course that knowledge only came with experience.

Mithra intended to see she lived long enough to get it.

Their hunting party moved to surround the outsiders, if it was trouble these people wanted then that is what they would find. The Dalish were not easy pickings to anyone.

Mithra counted three shemlen, along with the giant, the dog, and an elf dressed in strange robes with a pointed hat. It was surprising to see an elf leading this little group, likely some flat ear servant that the shems hoped would distract the Dalish, to keep them from unleashing their arrows.

Foolish shems.

Mithra gave the signal, it was time to close the trap and see just what they had caught here.

IOI

"We're lost aren't we?" Alistair asked.

"Nooo," Alim answered, trying to keep his temper under control, "According to Bodahn the Dalish camp he visited should be just up ahead."

That had been the fourth time Alistair had asked that question. The elf saw Leliana whisper something in Alistair's ear that was good. Hopefully she was warning him to keep his big trap shut.

Alim was not the only one that the former Templar was annoying.

Morrigan shook her head, if the elf was not here, she likely would have cut Alistair's throat in his sleep by now, the suspicious dimwitted fool was always working her last nerve. He had to be the most annoying person she had ever met.

"I've always wondered what a Dalish camp would look like," Leliana said smiling wistfully, "I'm truly grateful that you asked me to join you on this…whatever it is…quest? Adventure?"

Morrigan sighed, perhaps Alistair was the second most annoying person she had met.

Sten brought up the rear, the Qunari seemed distracted, looking over his shoulder and at random trees and rocks as they proceeded. He seemed…agitated.

The large warrior frowned.

"We are surrounded," the Qunari said quietly, "I believe we have found the elves you have been searching for wardens."

"Really," Alistair asked, "How can you tell?"

Dalish hunters sprang from the shadows, their bows trained the wardens and their companions, a lithe elven woman with blonde hair, pinned the human warden with an icy glare. A nocked arrow rested over his heart.

"Never mind," Alistair coughed.

The blonde elf glared up at him.

"Hold it outsiders," she hissed, "The Dalish have camped in this spot, I suggest you leave…now!"

Alim glanced around them; he had to give the Dalish credit. They managed to sneak up on them without alerting either himself or Morrigan.

The elven mage could not help but be impressed.

"Is this any way to greet a fellow elf?" he asked.

The blonde elf snorted.

"Flat-ears are no different from their shemlen masters, we have no inn for you to stay in, nor bread to share. AS I said I suggest you leave."

Alim paused, trying to consider how best to proceed, he had no desire to harm these Dalish, in fact he hoped to win them over to their side, but at the same time he did not like their cold attitude. Humans called him a knife-ear, the Dalish a flat ear, neither slur appealed to him truth be told, but never the less he was trying very hard not to fry the arrogant little woman with lightning.

"We are not your enemies,' he said quietly, admiring a pretty little female with dark hair and violet eyes. His eyes fell over her armor; it left her belly unshielded, but gave him an excellent view of her muscular figure. He gave the woman a polite nod.

Bellethiel smiled shyly.

"You have no reason to be here," the leader spat.

"Actually I do," Alim said, "I am a Grey Warden, and I seek an audience with your leader, your…keeper is it?"

Alim's response drew the Dalish up short.

"A…a Grey warden?" the blonde leader repeated.

Alim nodded.

"How do we know you are telling the truth?"

"People go around claiming to be Grey Wardens do they?" Alim quipped.

"I suppose they don't," the leader admitted, she lowered her bow, but motioned to her fellows to remain ready, "We will bring you to the Keeper, but I advise you to be on your best behavior. Our arrows are still trained on you."

She motioned for them to follow.

IOI

Leliana watched in wonder as the Dalish led them back to their camp. It was…like entering another world.

The scent of wood smoked and jasmine filled the air; she heard the soft bleating of animals, goats perhaps, though she saw none. Dalish land ships ringed the camp; inside women tended children while elders performed the needs of daily life. Preparing food, making weapons, she even saw one old woman tending to linens.

It was strange thing such a different people doing such ordinary things.

Growing up she had always heard that the Dalish elves were heathens, wild savages that butchered outsiders.

It was clear that those tales were wrong; these people were far from the wild raiders of the tales.

The lead hunter led them to an elf with a bald head and decorated yellow robes.

Their leader she supposed.

He introduced himself as Zathrian, the clan's keeper. Alim spoke to him in respectful tones; it was a new experience for Leliana.

She had started to think that Alim could not be respectful to anyone.

Or perhaps…he was only disrespectful to his allies.

If that were so then she should be happy, Alim must consider her a true companion now.

The Keeper knew about the Blight it seemed, and the treaty his people had signed long ago, but said that there was nothing that he could do to help. He apologized to Alim, saying that given his clans troubles, he did not believe that they would be able to fulfill their obligations to the treaty.

Alim would not accept that, he insisted on seeing what was wrong for himself.

The Keeper nodded, if that is what the wardens wanted, then that is what he would show them. The keeper led them over to the tent where the Dalish tended to their wounded.

The sight made Leliana feel faint.

Dozens of elven men and women lay sick or dying, the sickly smell of fear, sweat, and vomit filled the air. All of the wounded showed signs of being attacked by wild animals; bites and claw marks were all clearly visible on their bare skin.

These were most of the hunters of this clan, Zathrian feared that all would die soon, or be lost to a fate worse than death.

Leliana shuddered, what could possibly be worse than this?

Alim asked the Keeper what had done this.

His answer both shocked and surprised the wardens and their allies.

Werewolves.

IOI

Zathrian permitted the wardens to make camp just outside their own, considering how nervous the Dalish were around outsiders, Alim could not help but agree. He advised the others to tread lightly around the elves whenever possible.

The hostility here could easily blow up in their faces if they were not careful.

Alim moved quietly through the Dalish camp, with Bandit at his side, speaking with those who would talk to him. The Dalish were understandably nervous around hounds considering their recent problems, but said nothing regarding the dog, Bandit would not leave his side. The hostility earlier had triggered the dog's desire to defend Alim, and he would not shirk that responsibility. Fortunately the Dalish seemed to understand that, and once they realized that Bandit was not a threat, accepted the dog's presence.

Lanaya, the Keeper's apprentice, or First as she was called, had been cordial enough, the clan's storyteller had been downright hostile. Varathorn, the craft master, had been polite; Alim had offered to search for some ironbark for him when they entered the forest.

Werewolves, Alim could still not believe it, he had read accounts of such beasts during his time in the Circle, but had thought their time long over.

Apparently the scholars were wrong.

Zathrian believed that the heart of their leader, this Witherfang, could cure his people. If Alim wished the treaty fulfilled then they would have to see to getting it. Normally the thought of facing such beasts with so few to back him up would have filled the elven mage with dread, but something was here…something that he did not entirely understand.

The forest…it called to him, speaking to the natural magic that he wielded. He felt as if he was being pulled somewhere, drawn…

He needed to see where this feeling led.

"You have a hound?"

Alim turned, that dark haired huntress stood before him, her violet eyes stared inquisitively at Bandit, her elven ears twitched.

"How can you enslave this poor animal like the shemlen do?" she asked him.

Alim frowned.

"I did not enslave him," the elf snorted, "He chose me."

The girl tilted her head, "I…I don't understand."

Alim smiled, he leaned down and petted Bandit.

"A Mabari is not just some common lap dog; the Tevinter Mages bred them to be intelligent warriors on the battlefield. When one chooses to follow you, it is an honor. Few outside of Ferelden understand that, it is a bond of trust and friendship, not servitude."

The girl's eyes lit up. She thought she understood.

"Like Halla," the elven woman exclaimed.

"Halla?" Alim asked.

She took him by the hand and led him over to the animal pens. He had heard the creatures bleating when they arrived, but had not seen them up close until now.

"I am Bellethiel by the way," she said smiling lightly.

"Alim," he responded.

"Aneth ara Alim," the girl replied, "that means hello in the tongue of the shemlen. The relationship you describe with the hound is similar to that of our halla, a bond of friendship, and not servitude."

Bellethiel led him to a great pen, within large stag like white creatures roamed.

Beautiful creatures, Alim thought with a smile, both the halla and his companion.

"Who comes?" the Dalish tending the Halla called out, she was an older woman with silver colored hair.

"It is only I Elora," the huntress responded.

"Oh…hello Bellethiel," the older Dalish responded, she turned to Alim, "Greetings outsider."

Alim nodded, his eyes were drawn to the creatures, pale fur and majestic antlers. The Halla were like no creature he had seen before.

His eyes fell on a lone female, separated from the rest, he could sense her agitation in her every movement. Every step, every breath radiated fear and trouble.

"Is something wrong with this one?" he asked.

Elora frowned.

"I fear she may have been bitten during the werewolf attack," the herder explained, she touched the creature but it shied from her hand, "The curse would not affect her like it does us, if I cannot treat her, I may have to put her down."

"Elora…that is horrible," Bellethiel gasped.

Elora nodded in agreement.

"I have tried speaking with her, but she is too agitated."

Alim regarded the halla thoughtfully, he could sense the poor creature's emotions, perhaps that would be enough…

"Is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

"I don't know," Elora said, "Do you have any skills that could help her?"

He was not sure himself, but he would try, he had to try.

Alim came forward; he reached out with his mind to the near frantic creature. It was similar to what he did when he called upon the elements, the lightning and the rain. The Halla's thoughts were far less chaotic. He touched them easily; he sent waves of the soothing thoughts into the creature's mind. The process was similar to how he fed his anger into a storm, but this…this was something far more… calmer, but more complex.

Elora and Bellethiel watched him, the master herder's eyes widened in surprise.

"You have done it!" she exclaimed, "she is calming down," she turned to the halla placing a hand on its head, "That is it love, be calm, tell me what troubles you."

The Halla reached out to her, showing her its fear.

"Ah I see," Elora said softly, "It was her life mate who was injured not her, and she worries for him deeply. I…I had not realized that another Halla had been injured."

The Master Herder bowed to Alim, expressing her thanks.

"Mas Serranas, thank you, I can now begin to tend to the Halla as is needed."

Alim nodded, it had been strange, he should not have been able to do that, but somehow…it had felt so natural…so right.

Bellethiel was grinning from ear to ear.

"You are a powerful sorcerer indeed Alim," she exclaimed.

""I am simply a mage and a Grey Warden," he said dismissively, "I was grateful to be able to help."

Bellethiel's eyes warmed at his generosity.

The Dalish girl could not take her eyes off of him, Alim was…different, unlike any man she had met before. He fired her curiosity; she wanted to know more about this outsider.

She needed to know more.

IOI

Zathrian watched the flat-ear warden mover through the camp, he wanted the warden gone, outsiders had never brought anything but pain to the clan, and now the flat-ear had brought shemlen into their midst. They would try and find Witherfang, they would fight the werewolves.

Better the shems than his own clan.

Zathrian did not believe they would succeed, but if they did he would need to be there to make sure this played out just so.

He would not allow the flat-ear and his friends to stand in the way of justice.

With luck they would die trying to kill Witherfang, and if by some miracle they succeeded he hoped that they would not escape unbitten.

Flat-ears were no different from their shemlen masters. He had saved Lanaya from the shems years ago, but she had still been a child, uncorrupted by the outsiders' cruelty and savagery.

This Alim was not like that, if he was bitten during the course of this quest, Zathrian would not hesitate; he would give the man a quick death.

It would be the only merciful thing to do.