The werewolves shifted and growled as they walked back into the chamber with Zathrian. Cathiel resisted the urge to finger her bowstring, not wanting to provoke any hostilities.

"So here you are, spirit."

"She is the Lady of the Forest. You will address her properly." Swiftrunner started to surge forward, and Brehan stepped between the werewolf and the keeper.

"You've taken a name, spirit?" Zathrian's voice was mocking. "And you've given names to your pets? These..." He looked around, and his eyes narrowed when he saw Jerath and Lenore. "...Beasts who follow you?" Uninfected or not, Cathiel wanted to join the werewolves in growling at him.

"It was they who gave me a name, Zathrian. And the names they take are their own. They follow me because I help them to find who they are."

"Who they are has not changed from whom their ancestors were. Wild savages! Worthless dogs! Their twisted shape only mirrors their monstrous hearts!"

Swiftrunner gazed down at Brehan before turning back to the lady. "He will not help us, Lady! It is as I warned you! He is not here to talk!"

Zathrian shook his head. "No, I am here to talk, though I see little point in it. We all know where this will lead. Your nature compels it, as does mine."

"It does not have to be that way. There is room in your heart for compassion, Zathrian. Surely your retribution is spent."

"My retribution is eternal, spirit, as is my pain. This is justice, no more."

"Are you certain your pain is the only reason you will not end this curse? Have you told the mortals how it was created?"

"He said he summoned you and bound you to a wolf," Saitada said.

"And so he did. Witherfang and I are bound as one being. But such powerful magic could not be accomplished without Zathrian's own blood." She turned her gaze on Zathrian. "Your people believe you have rediscovered the immortality of their ancestors, Zathrian, but that is not true. So long as the curse exists, so do you."

Zathrian shook his head. "No, that is not how it is!"

"You would betray our people for revenge," Brehan said coldly, but he did not move from his position between Swiftrunner and Zathrian. Cathiel found herself a little bit worried, and wondered if what Brehan had said to Zathrian obligated him to protect the keeper if the keeper was the one that started hostilities.

"It is not a betrayal. I did what was necessary. I did what was just, and it still is!"

"The curse would not end with Zathrian's death," the Lady said, lifting a hand in a gesture of pacification. "His life, however, relies on its existence. And I believe his death plays a part in its ending."

Swiftrunner snarled. "Then we kill him! We tear him apart now." He started to push forward, and Brehan used the hilt of the maul to shove him backwards.

"For all your powers of speech, you are beasts still," Zathrian said, all but spitting the words. "What would you gain from me? Only I know how the ritual ends, and I will never do it."

Swiftrunner turned and gestured. "You see? We must kill them all."

Next to her, Alistair shifted nervously. She caught his glance. If it came to battle, whose side, exactly would they be on?

Zathrian apparently had thoughts along the same lines. He turned to Saitada. "See? They turn on you as quickly. Do what you have come her to do, Grey Warden, or get out of my way."

Saitada's voice was cold, and harder than the stone of Orzammar. "You will end that curse if I have to force you myself."

Alistair lifted his shield. "We're standing for what's right, here. No matter what." Cathiel smiled at him proudly.

"Then you die with them! All of you will suffer as you deserve!" Zathrian started to intone a spell.

Brehan dropped his maul, turned around, grabbed Zathrian by the front of his robes, and brought his forehead down into the keeper's nose with a rather sickening crunching sound. He followed it with a punch to the stomach.

#

Leliana gestured at the tracks. "This way."

"I cannot help but notice we are not being attacked by werewolves," Zevran said.

"Leliana, you sure?" Brosca asked.

"Brehan left trail signs for me, see?" She pointed.

"No, but I'll take your word for it. Let me know if you see the egghead's tracks."

#

He bent, and picked the keeper up by the front of his robes. Zathrian started to gesture, and Brehan hauled him off his feet and shook him. "I said I'd protect you from them," Brehan said, eyes narrowed. "No one here will protect you from me."

Zathrian blinked at him, eyes slightly dazed. "No more. I cannot defeat you."

Swiftrunner growled behind him. "Finish it. Kill him now."

"No, Swiftrunner. We will not kill him." Brehan felt the Lady's hand on his shoulder. Her voice was gentle. "If there is no room in our hearts for mercy, how may we expect there to be room in his."

Brehan lowered the keeper to the ground, and then held him to prevent him from falling. Zathrian shook his head. "I cannot do as you ask, spirit. I am too old... to know mercy. All I see are the faces of my children, my people. I... I cannot do it."

"Will you really let your clan die?" Brehan asked him. "For this?"

Zathrian looked at him. "Perhaps I have... lived too long. This hatred in me is like an ancient, gnarled root... It has consumed my soul." He clutched Brehan's arm to keep from falling as he turned to look at the spirit. "What of you, spirit? You are bound to the curse just as I am. Do you not fear your end?"

"You are my maker, Zathrian. You gave me form and consciousness where none existed. I have known pain and love, hope and fear, all the joy that is life. Yet of all things I desire no more than an end. I beg you, maker... put an end to me." She knelt. "We beg you... show mercy." Around them, the werewolves began to kneel as well.

Zathrian pushed Brehan away, and fell to his own knees in front of the Lady. "You shame me, spirit. I am... an old man, alive long past his time."

"Then you will do it? You will end the curse?"

"Yes. I think it is time. Let us... put an end to it all." He inhaled, then looked at Brehan. "Help me to the altar, da'len."

Brehan nodded, and caught his arm. To his surprise, Swiftrunner immediately came to Zathrian's other side to offer assistance. Together they carried the keeper to the altar.

#

Saitada and the others gathered to watch. The faces of Morrigan and Lenore were enraptured, and the fact that both now had yellow eyes lent a rather uncanny affect to their shared expressions.

Alistair had his arms around Cathiel, and Saitada saw tears falling down the young woman's cheeks. Wynne's eyes were wet as well.

Both the Lady of the Forest and Zathrian vanished in the emerald light. It seemed to spread out, blinding. When she managed to blink her eyes clear, men stood where there had once been werewolves.

"It's... over." The man that stood where Swiftrunner had been sounded almost ready to burst into tears. "She's gone, and... we're human. I can scarcely believe it."

"What will you do now?" Brehan asked him.

"We will leave the forest, I suppose. Find other humans, see what's out there for us. It should be quite interesting, don't you think?" He kept looking down at his hands, turning them forward and backward.

"Head north. Or west, to Redcliffe. Perhaps we will meet again one day."

Swiftrunner nodded. Then he shook his head. "I never got your name."

"Brehan."

He nodded. "Brehan. It mean anything in Dalish?"

"Raven."

"How do you say wolf, in Dalish?"

"Fen."

He looked up at Brehan. "Thank you. We... we'll never forget you." The former werewolves left the chamber.

Saitada turned to look at Lenore. Her eyes were still yellow, but she appeared less tense, and she looked sad. She caught Saitada looking, and managed a smile. "Alright?" Saitada asked.

"Yes. It..." She sighed. "It hurts a bit less than hell, now, and it's fading."

"Jerath?"

"Could do with a rare steak."

"Cathiel, shoot him."

#

Brosca started into the ruins, his mace out and ready, when he saw humans start streaming out and leaving. He blinked, then glanced back at the others. Shale shrugged.

A moment later he saw their companions. They looked... well, maybe a bit worse for wear. Lenore's robes were ripped across the front, almost to the point of indecency. There was blood. Something had clawed his girl. She saw him and gave him a cheerful wave. "Oh, are you coming to rescue us?"

"Yep. Big damn heroes, we are," he said, striding forward to meet them. "I reckon we're a few minutes late?"

Saitada nodded. "Any trouble back at camp?"

"No. But the keeper fellow took off. I think he's up to some..."

"He's dead." Saitada sighed. "Let's go see if it worked for the Dalish."

"If what..." He blinked. Lenore's eyes were yellow. "Um..."

Lenore ran her fingers through his hair. "I'll tell you on the way."

#

"It is done," Lanaya said as they entered the camp. Her eyes were red, as though she were fighting back tears. "The essence of the wolf's heart has banished all traces of cursed blood from the hunters." Her voice was strong but sad. "It is too bad that Zathrian had to die. I..." She swallowed. "I felt it, when he departed. I think he was ready to go."

Brehan dropped his voice low so as not to be overheard. "Did you know about his connection to the curse?"

Her face grew troubled. "I suspected, but... Zathrian did not like to talk about that." She shook her head, and wrapped her arms around herself. "Nonetheless, the curse is over, and no one else will be subjected to it.

"He was a hero in the end, Lanaya," Brehan said.

A tear escaped her eye. "It will be difficult to fill Zathrian's shoes. He was our keeper for many centuries and he will be sorely missed." She raised her head, drew her shoulders back, and took a deep breath. "But I am keeper now. As promised, allow me to swear by the name of Mythal, She Who Watches, that we are indebted to you. Call and we shall come, with great speed and purpose, and we shall strike at your foes. This I swear."

"Ir abelas, lethallin."

"Ma serranas."

"How long before your people are ready?"

She glanced at where the hunters were. They looked better, but it was clear they were still weakened. "It will be some time. The curse leaves the hunters slowly, and they must regain their strength before they are ready to fight." She inhaled. "It has been a long time since the Dalish marched to war... but I trust that, in the end, we shall make a difference for you."

"I have no doubt. We will rest a day, and then go to Denerim. When you are ready, head to Redcliffe. Our forces gather there."

#

"You have returned. Is there..." Athras looked at him hopefully. "Any chance you have news of Danyla?"

"She was a werewolf, just as you suspected."

"So I was right..." He shook his head. "But what became of her?"

"She died, Athras." Jerath said. He handed the man the scarf. "But not before she sent her love."

He took the scarf, and pressed it to his lips. "She told you that? Yes... that is what she would do. Then... it is over. I should be thankful, I think. At least she is at peace now. You have been most kind, my friend." He offered Jerath something. "Here, take this amulet. I hope it is worth something to you as a reward."

Jerath closed Athras's fingers back over the amulet, and shook his head. "I am sorry, Athras." He couldn't take a reward from a man whose wife he'd killed.

Athras looked at him, and then nodded. "Oh. I... Oh. I should go and make arrangements. I must mourn my wife as is proper. Dareth shiral - fare you well."

He walked away. The keeper gestured to him as he passed her wagon. Jerath shrugged and approached. "That's a fine thing you did for Athras," she said. "He would have worried forever had you not put his mind at ease." She reached to put a hand on his shoulder, and he pulled back. She sighed. "I have a potion. It seems to be easing the suffering of the hunters."

"I'm fine."

"Your friend, the shem mage, actually hugged me after I gave her some."

"She does that. I'm fine."

She frowned, and started to turn away, then turned back. "If I had given it to the shem mage, and asked her to give it to you, would you have taken it?"

"I trust her."

"I see." She looked as if she wanted to say something. "Did you try to come to the Dalish?"

He laughed. She looked taken aback, almost affronted. "No. I don't run." He shook his head, and went to find his friends.

#

Varathorn smiled at Brehan warmly. "It is good to see you again. Have you need of something?"

"I found some ironbark for you."

Varathorn's eyes widened as Brehan showed him the travois they'd brought back. "Truly? Let me see. Yes... that is indeed ironbark, and a substantial quantity of it as well. Well done!" He clapped Brehan on the shoulder. "An agreement is an agreement, and I will craft something from this wood for you. What would you like? A bow? Or perhaps a breastplate."

"Neither. I'm sure your clan needs it more than I do."

"That is very generous of you. Ma serannas. I see you have not lost your Dalish roots in the time you have spent with the humans." Varathorn shook his head. "I will not allow your generosity to go without at least some reward."

"As it happens, I found some armor in the ruins. It could do with a bit of repair."

"Show me."

Brehan followed him back to the wagon, and took the armor out of his pack. Varathorn's eyes widened. "By the creators... I've not seen... da'len, what you've found here... this might actually have been made in Arlathan."

He blinked. "We found it in those ruins."

Varathorn caressed the breastplate. "I can repair it, but it will take me a bit of time. I can bring it with me, and have it ready when we meet in Redcliffe."

Brehan considered. "How long would you like to study it?"

"I..." Varathorn looked at him, and then sighed. "Years," he answered honestly.

"I seem to do well enough hiding behind the humans when the arrows start flying. Just remember me the first time you manage to duplicate it."

"June enansal, da'len."

#

Cathiel and Alistair almost had to cajole Wynne into going to look for the elven healer. Brehan was busy talking to the craftsman, but a young couple named Cammen and Gheyna had eagerly volunteered to guide them through the woods. She was fairly confident their motives had a lot more to do with the opportunity to steal a few moments alone that it did generosity.

She shook her head at them fondly. "Ah, young love."

"You say that as though you and Alistair do not behave in exactly the same way," Wynne said, shaking her head in mock admonishment.

Alistair looked affronted. "We don't coo."

"You absolutely coo."

"Do not."

"Not only to you coo, I have personally witnessed both of you twitter."

"You are lying and evil," Alistair said.

Wynne smiled. "I think you make her very happy."

He gave her a suspicious look. "Not this again. I'm ready this time."

"I just wanted to say that this was something good, for both of you. Being a Grey Warden isn't easy. I'm glad you found each other."

Wariness spread across his features. "Oh, yes, I bet you are, indeed."

"Cherish this. It may not last."

He actually started to duck behind his shield. Cathiel giggled. "And?"

Wynne shrugged. "That's all I had to say?"

"Really?" He shook his head, confused. "No pinching my cheeks? No making me blush?"

"Of course not. I like you, Alistair. You deserve to be happy."

Cathiel grinned as Alistair gave Wynne a disappointed look. "Not even pinching my cheeks a little?"

"Come here," Cathiel said. "I'll pinch your cheeks."

Wynne's face became completely innocent. "Which ones?"

#

Lenore glanced over at one corner of the Dalish camp. Morrigan sat, leaning against a log. Jerath lay on the ground, his head resting in her lap as the two talked. Morrigan was actually smiling, laughing warmly at something Jerath had said. Brehan and Leliana were on the other side of the fire, positioned similarly. Lenore began walking in their direction.

"You are very beautiful Morrigan," Leliana was saying.

"Tell me something I do not know." Morrigan's voice held a note of laughter.

Leliana sighed. "But you always dress in such rags. It suits you I suppose. A little tear here, a little rip there to show some skin. I understand."

"You understand I lived in a forest, I hope?"

"Maybe we could get you in a nice dress one day. Silk. No, maybe velvet. Velvet is heavier, better to guard against the cold in Ferelden. Dark red velvet, yes. With gold embroidery. It should be cut low in the front of course, we don't want to hide your features."

"Stop looking at my breasts like that." Morrigan put an arm over her chest. "'Tis most disturbing!" Both Brehan and Jerath laughed.

"You don't think so? And if it's cut low in the front we must put your hair up to show off that lovely neck."

Morrigan shook her head. "You are insane. I would sooner let Alistair dress me."

"It'll be fun, I promise! We'll get some shoes too! Ah, shoes! We could go shopping together!"

"She needs earrings too," Lenore said. "Drops of ruby, maybe?"

"Stop helping her," Morrigan said. The glare held no real malice. Lenore suspected that Morrigan might actually be enjoying herself.

Lenore sat by the fire. "We could dress Jerath to match, he'd look nice in dark red."

"He would, wouldn't he?" Leliana smiled.

"You and Brehan need green though."

"Jerath, what scares you more? Facing the archdemon, or letting these two dress us?" Brehan asked.

"I'd have to think on it," Jerath replied.

Leliana gave Lenore a considering look. "For you, I think blue, and sapphires. Your hair is so pale it's almost silver. How long is it, when it's down?"

"Almost to my waist now."

"We'd put a net of gold over it, and let it hang loose, draping over your shoulders. And a simple gold chain, holding a sapphire teardrop in the center of your forehead. I'd give Morrigan a heavier necklace, her features are dramatic enough to pull it off."

Morrigan gave Lenore a considering look. "A small amount of her hair, braided to make a circlet, woven with gold and what am I saying..." Lenore and Leliana both laughed. "Can we discuss some other matter?"

Lenore shrugged, and glanced at Jerath. "You know, now that my blood doesn't feel like molten lava, I have to admit it was sort of an interesting experience."

Jerath turned his head to look at her. "I suppose without the pain and the urge to take bites out of everyone, it could be called that."

"It is disconcerting to have such a clear understanding of why almost everything we encounter tries to eat Brehan."

"I wonder if it's just him, or if it's a Dalish thing."

"Ma serannas. Emma shem'nan, fen'len."

"I think he's threatening me again," Jerath looked up at Morrigan. "He's threatening me again, isn't he?"

"Can you really blame them, vhenan?" Leliana bent and kissed him. "You do taste really good."

#

Wynne stopped dead in her tracks. "Aneirin...?"

The elven man blinked at her. "Wait, I... I remember your face... but younger, more impulsive, stern... Wynne?"

"I thought they had killed you." Wynne said, sounding for a moment like a lost little girl.

He shook his head. "They very nearly did. The templars found me while I was searching for the Dalish... they ran me through and left me for dead."

"I brought this on you. Oh, I was a dreadful mentor, harsh and impatient... I am sorry for the way I treated you." Alistair and Cathiel exchanged disbelieving looks as Wynne spoke.

Aneirin smiled and shook his head. "I have put that behind me and you should too. I didn't fit in with the templars and your Chantry... my path lay elsewhere."

She held out a beseeching hand. "Irving is a reasonable man. He will find some way for you to return. The Circle needs new blood. It needs to change."

Aneirin took the hand, but shook his head. "I have fond memories of Irving. He was always kind to me. I will consider your proposal and perhaps I will speak with Irving. However, I promise nothing."

Alistair and Cathiel made themselves comfortable while Aneirin and Wynne chatted. Nearby, Cammen and Ghenya cooed and twittered happily. Almost an hour had passed before Aneirin offered Wynne a hand getting to her feet. "It is getting late, and I'm sure you have much to do."

"It was lovely to meet you, Anierin," Cathiel said.

He gave them a small bow. "Likewise." He turned to Wynne with a smile. "My years in the Circle were not a complete waste. I learned more than I let on. You did teach me, Wynne, even if you didn't know it." He offered her something. "Look at this. It is the hardened sap of a tree native to this forest. It has been something of a lucky charm for me, and now I want you to have it."

"I am grateful. May your gods smile on you, Aneirin."

"And on you."

#

"And we are out of the trees. This is a glorious day," Brosca said, spreading his arms up towards the sky.

Saitada shook her head and laughed. "I actually liked the trees. Except for the ones that chased us."

"I wish I could have gone back to talk to the Grand Oak before we left." Lenore looked back over her shoulder. "I told Lanaya where to find him. She said she'd visit him from time to time so he didn't get lonely."

"You have the weirdest friends," Alistair said. Lenore gave him a pointed look, and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I guess I walked into that one, didn't I?"

"Eamon should be to Denerim by now," Cathiel said. "We may beat many of the lords there."

"We'll have time to do some preparations then. I'm going to need your help, Cathiel. You know the people involved a fair bit better than I do," Saitada said.

"Wulff and Bryland will be behind us. There will be a fair number who won't want to, well, upset the applecart. They'll back Loghain just because he's the one currently holding the palace."

"Then we will need to do what we can regarding those."

"Best bet might just be to get them to bow out entirely."

"Alright. Start plotting. Let's go take over a country."

"Didn't we sort of do that once already this month?" Brosca asked.

"Cathiel, shoot him." Saitada sighed. "Alistair, you stick close as well."

"Why? I don't know so many of the nobles."

"But you need to. If we are to present you at the Landsmeet, you'll need to be prepared."

"I don't know if..."

Brosca snorted. "You've got a Ferelden noblewoman and an Orzammar princess to tutor you, yer majesty. What else is needed?"

"A very large stick," Jerath said.

#

"I wish to ask a question of you."

Jerath blinked. "Go ahead."

Morrigan inhaled. "I wish to know your opinion of 'love.'" She said the word as though disgusted by the feel of it in her mouth.

"My opinion?"

She rolled her eyes. "You and I have been intimate, for one." She shifted awkwardly, fiddling with one of the straps on her skirt. "We have been... close... for some time now. You are... impressive... in many ways, and you even protected me from Flemeth without hope of reward." She looked away from him, turning her gaze to some trees off in the distance.

He looked at her, folding his arms and leaning on one of the trees she was using as a tent pole. "And if I do love you?"

"Then we are both fools, and we need to do something immediately." She continued to look away from him. "I have allowed myself to become... too close. This is a weakness, for both of us."

A demon in his head. Walls built to protect those he loved from its wrath. Wolf rage in his mind, agony in his blood. Love all that kept him sane. "Love is not a weakness."

She finally turned towards him, but couldn't quite meet his eyes. "You are not listening to me. Do not be such a fool!" She shook her head. "This is for your own good. I would not... I am not like other women. I am not worth your distraction. And you... are not worth mine."

He could see the lie in the way her knuckles were white on the strap. "You are worth my distraction."

"I... you are impossible." She shook her head, and wrapped her arms around herself. "Have it your way. But I will tell you truly now: You will regret it in the end."

It hurt worse than the wolf had, realizing she thought she was telling the truth.

#

Brehan woke with a start. He grabbed his pants and slid them on. Leliana blinked up at him sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"I..." Brehan shook his head, then his eyes widened. "Spawn. Wake the others."

He got out of his tent. Alistair and Cathiel looked over at him from where they were standing. "You're awake! You sensed them in your sleep?"

"No I..." He shook his head. "In the dream, it was like the archdemon turned and saw us."

"I think... wait..." Alistair drew his blade. "Did you hear that?"

Even half out of their armor, his companions were formidable. They met the shrieks as they attacked. Brehan smashed one to the ground, and Zevran finished it off with his daggers. He cast his senses around, and found another on the edge of the camp. He headed that way.

It almost appeared to be cowering as he approached. He shifted his grip on the hammer.

"You... lethallin..."

The maul slipped from his fingers. "Mercy of the gods. It can't be." He shook his head, then shook it again. "It... Tamlen?" Is that you?"

"Don't..." Tamlen scrambled a few paces further away. "Don't come near me. Stay away!" He fled into the bushes.

Brehan followed. "Tamlen, wait!"

#

Saitada cast her senses, then blinked and looked around. "Where is Brehan?"

The others looked around. Zevran nodded to the east. "He started after one that way."

"Jerath, Leliana, go get him. The rest of you spread out a bit make sure we got them all."

#

"Don't... look at me! I am... sick..."

"We can help you, Tamlen. Don't be afraid." Brehan knelt near where his friend was cowering.

Tamlen shook. "No help. No... help for me." His veins appeared nearly black beneath the skin. Brehan could sense the taing pulsing within him. It made him want to vomit. "The song... in my head. It... calls to me. He sings to me! I can't stop it!"

Brehan held out a hand. "I have to try to heal you, Tamlen.

"Too far. You cannot help me."

His eyes blurred with tears. "I wish we'd never found that cave."

"I'm... so sorry, lethallin. Never wanted this..."

"Don't ask me to kill you, Tamlen. Please. I can't do that."

"Then... I must leave you no choice."

Brehan's eyes widened as Tamlen leapt at him with a snarl. He tried to bring his hands up as Tamlen's hands closed around his throat and tightened. Stars appeared in his vision before something pulled Tamlen off him.

Leliana pulled him to his feet. He blinked, and saw Jerath standing between him and the once again cowering Tamlen. "Maker preserve us! Is this... someone you know?" Her voice was horrified.

"Tamlen," Brehan gasped.

Leliana nodded. "Jerath, if you..."

"No," Brehan called out. "No." He repeated the word in a quieter voice, and then walked to Jerath. He held out his hand, and Jerath handed him the sword. "Ma nuvenin. Ar lasa mala din'an, lethallin."

"Ir abelas." Tamlen said. He bowed his head. "Ma serannas."

He stood there a moment, when it was done, then handed the sword back to Jerath. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry, Brehan," Jerath said.

#

Somehow, Leliana's voice joined to Brehan's made the song even sadder. Lenore snuggled down between Brosca and Zevran. She wondered how Brehan's voice stayed clear even as tears fell from his eyes.

Another friend lost. She put her arm around Zevran as she leaned her head on Brosca's shoulder. Would Brehan sing for them one day? A shiver went down her spine. Who would sing for Brehan, should he be the one to fall?

She'd picked up just enough elvish to understand the gist of the song. From the lyrics, she wondered if it had once been a happy song, back in the days when elves were immortal and merely slept.

They would all die young, she thought to herself as she looked at her companions. Even if they survived in battle, the taint in their blood would take them before their time. Her eyes went to Jerath. He'd likely be dead before he saw his first grey hair.

Her mind went to the notes he'd given her, the one's he'd retrieved from Soldier's Peak. Maybe... maybe she could find a way. Cleanse the taint. Grow old.

In the meantime, she'd enjoy what time she had remaining.