This story will be updated slower than the others. Reborn and Paths take up a lot of time, plus From Isolation is a rather different story for me, so that takes up quite a bit of brain matter, too. I hope that once one of the others is completed (or takes less time to put together) this one will update quicker.

In the meantime, I know the chapters are short, but this is how the story is coming to me. So, most likely, that'll mean more chapters, just not as meaty as some of us like them to be. I felt it better to post shorter chapters at shorter intervals rather than longer ones at a longer span of time as I hope people will continue to be interested in this more original storyline. Let me know your thoughts.

Thanks to Katrina-Irene for reading and reviewing. Also, thanks go out to everyone who has alerted and favorited this story, and those who have read yet remain strangely silent.

The Halla Tainted

Chapter 4

Her steely eyes settled upon the figure of the young man, her hard gaze sweeping up the height of him. He seemed nervous, but she gathered that was to be expected. She, after all, had not been as welcoming or affable a traveling companion as the young warden perhaps had wanted.

Or, deserved.

She watched as he valiantly stepped into the very unfamiliar terrain of the ancient Forest, his dark eyes searching out the shadows of the trees, taking in every sight, alert to any noise. He walked with careful footsteps, carefully avoiding leaving any noticeable trace of his passage, his footfalls silent. She gave him a brief, acknowledging nod before turning away.

She let out a sharp sigh, turning her gaze back to the Forest. She had not set foot into the Brecilian Forest since the Rebellion, and it now felt so strange and alien to her. No, it was not the Forest that felt different, she realized as she paced further into the northern most border of the great, ancient wood. It was her. Her life amongst the shemlen and flat ears had irreparably changed her. Dalish she had been born, a Hunter second to none during her youth; sister of her tribe's Keeper and leader of their Hunters, now she was merely another flat ear, traversing the ancient ways, seeking answers.

On behalf of the shems.

Another sigh escaped her lips. She turned to Duncan, who was watching the surrounding forest with barely concealed ill-ease.

"Carefully, Warden," she warned, a slight smirk playing across her full lips. "It is said that the very trees of the Brecilian Forest can reach out and snatch the unwary traveler."

His eyes widened, going directly to the nearby trees, his eyes narrowed and suspicious. Duncan then risked a glance over at the smirking elven woman. The young Warden obviously could not tell if she was serious or not, and so decided to rely upon prudence. He choose to believe her and so stepped closer to the elven warrior.

Chuckling, Adaia clutched her curved longbow in a strong hand, and led the human deeper into the forest.

"You have not explained fully why you needed my assistance," she prompted the young man, more to keep his mind active and alert than for any real information. In her experience, if someone was overly nervous, they were less alert and more jumpy, making better targets. And therefore making their companions better targets. She knew this from her own experiences. Traveling with Maric had been enough to fray her nerves for a lifetime. She had no desire to repeat the experience.

Duncan took a deep breath, turning his attention to the lovely yet fiery Dalish woman. He had already experienced a degree of her temper, and knew that he was about to set himself up for another taste. "It's a Grey Warden matter," he said, giving her a simple shrug of his shoulders, trying to appear relaxed while inside his stomach roiled. He took note of the narrowing of her eyes and added hastily. "There are things…secrets that the Wardens can't share to those outside of the Order."

"And yet you feel no compulsion against risking the lives of those outside the Order for your own benefit?" she snarled, her lips pulling back from her teeth in a sneer.

Defeated, his shoulders slumped slightly. "All I can truly tell you is that we are seeking out an apostate," he noticed her eyes narrow slightly. "Well, technically, he's a Warden. But, he left the compound, against orders, and was last known to be making his way through the Forest and then on his way to the Wilds."

"Any idea why?" she prompted, twisting slightly to avoid an overhanging branch.

Duncan took a deep breath. "That's actually where the 'secret' part comes in." He held his hands up apologetically, his face crestfallen and concerned.

Duncan watched as the Dalish warrior adjusted her armor. The glance she threw him spoke of her displeasure with being here, without any true answer to her questions. However, the young warden knew a strange sense of duty obviously kept her there and true to her word to help him - the Wardens.

"You are fortunate that Loghain sent you to me, effectively requesting that I assist you," she explained tersely. "Had it been anyone else, I would have laughed in his face."

"Even had the king himself asked?" Duncan had to ask, curious.

She scoffed, slinging her bow over her shoulder, adjusting her quiver on her back, setting the angle so that she could grasp an arrow quickly and efficiently while in battle. "Had Maric deigned to speak any word to me," she replied, barely concealed anger in her voice, "I would have shoved it back down his throat."

He was surprised by her vehemence. "I take it you and Maric do not get along?"

"Phwt!" she turned, eying the dark human, "Maric would have you believe we are old friends. However, he is a fool," she started walking off, her long legs carrying her away from the Warden. Grimacing, he hurried to keep pace. "Had he not had Rowan and Loghain by his side, and myself as well, the whimpering idiot would have died long ago." She cast a sidelong glance at her companion. "Sometimes I wonder if that would not have been for the best."

"You are aware that I am friend of Maric's, aren't you?" he asked, watching her reaction.

She shrugged, undeterred in expressing her opinion. "So? Perhaps as a human, that means any promises he grants to you are kept. However," she paused, frowning, allowing the anger she had kept all these years to resurface. "if you are less in their eyes," she looked directly into his dark eyes, her steely orbs sad. "then they are merely words."

With that, she continued on, the conversation obviously at an end.