Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed and alerted this story.

As always, I own nothing. I am merely borrowing…well, without permission…the DragonAge universe and using it for my own perverse need to write without actually trying.

The Halla Tainted

Chapter 6

They had been traveling for little over a week, trekking deeper into the heart of the Brecilian Forest. Adaia's stance had relaxed immensely the deeper into the wild woods they went, and Duncan found himself rather grateful for it. Although some of her hostility toward him had eased somewhat, there were still flashes of irritation and anger, and the warden, at times, found himself fearing for his safety.

He watched as Adaia stepped from what could only be called a path by the most generous, walking up to the ancient trees that crowded the forest. Pausing, he watched as she raised a hand, gently tracing over the gnarled bark. With a glance back, she called the young human to her side, a slight smile upon her face. Unable to resist that smile, Duncan stepped closer, watching as her long fingers continued to trace their pattern upon the hard bark.

"Do you see this?" she asked quietly, her fingers pausing in their path, tapping along a slight scar upon the wood.

Frowning, Duncan stepped nearer, fully aware of the closeness of the Dalish woman. When she was like this - friendly, accommodating - he found it difficult to ignore just how lovely a woman she was.

Best not think like that, he chided himself. Instead, he followed her finger's path. "A scar?" he asked, his brow furrowed. The scar appeared quite old.

"A scar, yes," Adaia said softly, her eyes bright and blue. "A mark, for those who know what to look for. It appears quite old, yes?" She turned her gaze to the young man, who looked over and nodded slightly. "'Tisn't so, however. It is mere weeks in age. Telling others that a Dalish clan resides within the forest."

She straightened, and it was then that Duncan noticed the change in her demeanor even more pronouncedly. She was excited, her eyes glancing to the west, an anxiety that almost caused her to bounce upon the balls of her feet. Her smile widened as she glanced over at the young warden. "My clan has returned to the forest." She advised him, letting him in on her excitement.

"Do you think they will assist us?" he asked cautiously, thankful that they may well meet with a clan of Dalish that would be accommodating.

Nodding, she stepped from the tree, turning their path westerly. "They are the more…ah, progressive of the Dalish. My brother, their keeper, always spoke about our being able to survive should we become more a part of the world rather than apart from it. That the Dalish need to take a greater responsibility for what happens in the world around us than we do." She shrugged. "'Twas by his words that I and my hunters had entered the forest the eve I saved Maric's life."

Duncan held in a snort. Adaia had actually called the king by his name, the first time she had done so without any heat or venom in her voice. He decided not to bring attention to that fact.

Her good mood was too good an occasion to destroy.

oOo

"You do understand you will need to be honest and forthright with my clan," Adaia stated matter-of-factly as they continued through the forest, heading westerly in search of Clan Mahariel. Duncan raised a dark brow, frowning slightly. He could not detect any ire or irritation in the Dalish woman's voice, only a calm confidence that he took to mean that she would - finally - get the full truth from him. He merely shrugged in answer, not entirely certain what he was expected to say to the clan, but knowing that he could not truly tell them the truth.

By doing so, too many Grey Warden secrets could be revealed.

By doing so, too many errors in judgment on the Wardens' side would be revealed.

Either way, dangerous repercussions could ensue, and could well erode the Grey Wardens standing in Fereldan even further.

And Duncan truly, truly did not wish to return to Orlais. He had found he rather enjoyed Fereldan, and had yet to really be able to detect the odor of wet dog.

He glanced over at the elven woman, her strides confident, her back straight. Eyes wandered down her trim form to where her midriff was revealed in the two piece Dalish armor she wore. Despite years away from the battlefield and motherhood, her body was well muscled, tone and flexible. Not just her midriff but the generous expanse of leg and arm atoned for that fact that, despite the continued restrictions upon the elves in Fereldan, she continued her weapons training. He shook his head, trying to imagine an entire clan of beautiful elven women thusly attired. While the Chantry may well call the Dalish barbaric heathens, he found their armaments quite…fetching.

He caught her eye on him, and had the grace to flush slightly at her scrutiny. A straight blond brow quirked up in an amused gesture and, with a quirky twitch of her generous mouth, she turned, continuing to led him through the forest, toward her clan.

oOo

"Aneth ara, Lethallan," came the greeting as a female Dalish hunter stepped lightly from the surrounding shadows. Crossing her arms before her chest, Adaia bowed deeply, glancing at Duncan. Taking the hint, he mimicked her posture as Adaia straightened and greeted the huntress.

The hunter who greeted them was young, with dark tattoos covering most of her delicately featured face. Adaia stepped nearer the other woman, and the two conversed quietly as Duncan stood, still, uncertain as to what he should do. Deciding to ere on the side of caution, he remained standing until Adaia turned, smiling, to motion the young human by her side.

He did not miss the openly curious, yet surprisingly non-hostile expression upon the younger female's face. Taking that as a good sign, the young Warden followed the women as they led him toward their clan's encampment.

Duncan's fantasy of beautiful half-clad elven women was somewhat diminished as he viewed the elves about the camp. Certainly, many of the warrior women were clad similarly to Adaia, however, many more wore simple dresses, tunics and britches about their slender frames. Suppressing his disappointment, the young warden hurried after Adaia and their guide.

For her part, Adaia could feel the years of oppression and ill ease lift from her shoulders as she passed and was greeted by the denizens of the Dalish camp. Aravels were placed around the camp's perimeter, and a temporary pen housed the clan's halla in a field of alfalfa and rye. She lifted her eyes, skimming over the figures - many that were familiar to her and who turned, watching their wayward sister as she made her progress through the camp. One woman, little older than Adaia herself, broke apart from the group she had been conversing with, running her hands over her skirt as she hurried toward the hunter.

"Adaia?" the other woman asked as she approached, her kind, lovely face breaking out in a grin.

"Ashalle?" Adaia quipped, turning to embrace the smaller woman. Their guide paused, smiling at the reunion as Duncan approached and stood, uncomfortable, as the pair of women embraced tightly to one another. Finally, Adaia broke the contact, keeping her hands on the smaller woman's shoulders.

"Ashalle! It is wonderful to see you again!" Adaia was genuinely pleased to be reunited with a friend, and Duncan could not help but grin at the near girlish delight that crossed her normally stern features.

"You have been from us too long, my friend," Ashalle replied, her hands grasping Adaia's upper arms, giving the firm muscle a squeeze. "Long had we believed you dead when you had not returned with the other hunters after the shem's war was completed."

Smiling, nodding, Adaia answered, "I know, sister. I…well," she shrugged, "it is a long story, one I look forward to speaking with you about. However, for now, I need to see my brother…."

Ashalle's face fell, and the guide shifted her feet uncomfortably. Other Dalish passing by cast sympathetic glances to the returning warrior, some shaking their heads sadly, others merely passing by.

Adaia knew something was amiss. "What has happened?" she asked quietly, fearfully as the smile fell from her childhood friend's face.

Shaking her head, Ashalle replied, "Come. I will take you to Marethari," she nodded to the young guide, bidding her to leave. With a thankful nod of her head, the young huntress hurried away, obviously to deliver word that one of their own had returned and who it was that had returned.

The huntress's face screwed up in a confused expression. "Why am I to meet with Vidor's First?" she asked as she glanced back to Duncan to be certain she had not lost him. The young human offered her a bemused smile as he followed behind, trying to keep a distance.

"Adaia," Ashalle said, shaking her head. "I…when we reach Marethari, we will both advise you what has transpired."

Her frown deepening, Adaia quietly followed her friend, her eyes searching the figures for the small form of her brother's apprentice. She spotted Marethari's familiar white-blond head, bent down to listen to the words a child spoke to her. With a nod and a pat to the child's dark head, the mage lifted her eyes, scanning the surrounding area, until her blue-green eyes settled upon Adaia's familiar features.

The hunter stopped, staring at the other woman, taking note of the robes of office she wore.

The robes of a Keeper.

Her heart skipped, and she nearly choked as a sob threatened to make its presence known. Urgency caused her legs to carry her, swiftly, passed a startled Ashalle, to stand before the woman who was now, apparently, Keeper of her brother's clan.

"Marethari?"

The other woman, within a few years of Adaia's age, turned sad eyes to the long absent hunter. Duncan, feeling out of place and very much an intruder, stopped beside Ashalle, who stood, watching as Marethari wrapped her arms around the much larger hunter. That feeling of discomfort grew as he watched the stoic, strong woman he had been traveling with these past weeks allow a sob to escape her throat, and then bury her face into the other woman's neck, great sobs of sorrow bursting through.

Ashalle offered a sympathetic glance to the young human in their midst, and then left his side to embrace the other two women, murmuring words into Adaia's ear.