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knowl-edge . Familiarity, awareness, or understanding gained through experience or study; state or fact of knowing.

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The second they had passed through the Gates, Kate's memory became a blur. There was the unclear recollection of being led through odd streets and lightened hallways, of someone telling her to undress, a woman who tutted and scolded as she cleaned the wound the darkspawn had left in her flesh, scolded her and those who walked with her; hadn't they seen the taint spreading? They hadn't, don't touch me, she had told them so and all that she also told the woman in impromptu defense. Forgetting it wasn't Sam she was defending but people she knew nothing of. Kate was doomed to remember only things that would make her harm herself in shame. After that, nothing.

When the elf woke, she was alone. Someone had laid her on a bed – a real, honest to Maker bed – and dressed her in an actual nightgown. Or perhaps she had in her sleep hazed walk, that was a much more pleasant thought than some stranger dressing her. Kate's fingers reached out to the pleasant numbness on her shoulder. That hadn't been her work. It had been bandaged carefully, tightly, covered in poultices and something which reminded her of the gardens of the capital. The girl felt rested, cared for. Even protected. It wasn't a feeling she was used to when alone.

Pulling herself upwards was far easier than she thought. It was so good, Kate allowed herself to think, to feel her body obeying her without complaining, feel actual strength flowing through her body. It was nice. Understatement aside, it was really nice. If she ignored the way her hair was plastered to her skin and back – a sign that it would probably wouldn't manage to move in a whirlwind – and the stench the creatures' blood had left behind on her skin, it was the best she had felt in a long time.

It allowed her to focus on something other than herself.

The room she was in wasn't anything special. White walls, long walls interrupted steadily by high windows filled with sunlight. Wooden closets to a corner, a very small desk to the other containing papers and vellums together, mixed in what had little to do with organization. Other beds had been positioned throughout the space and, the one exactly opposite to her, carried signs of having been slept on and a bag she recognized as Sam's. He should be okay. Otherwise that wouldn't have been left behind. The less one had, the more it became precious.

"Ah, you awaken finally."

It was a female voice which greeted her. Sharp but not unpleasant. Kate's head moved immediately to face its origin to find a woman, an elven woman at that. Middle aged. She had pleasantly drawn features, a smooth oval face, ringlets of short brown hair barely covering her pointy ears and her eyes. They were light, a light blue that was one step from white. She was an extraordinarily tall woman for an elf, walking straight and with a confidence that Kate had seen solely on one or two people since a child. Somehow, it was easy to see this woman knew her place in life and knew exactly how to defend it. All in all, not someone to cross unless one wished to be harmed. When she came closer, one hand reaching for her forehead without bothering to see if it would be welcome, the impression only increased.

"I thought the Commander to have more common sense," she commented in a tone that spoke of annoyance. Over her Commander. Kate struggled not to let her confusion show but it probably shone like a beacon in the dark. "I was told you carried your friend all the way to the Compound? And injured. A couple more days and the taint would have set in. He should have known better. Maker, that man listens to no one." Her hands were a flurry of movement, pushing her gown aside to check upon her bandages as if Kate had awaken and immediately started picking at them like a wounded mabari.

Her lips parted in the instinctual wish to say that no, she had obeyed none; she had done only what she had wanted. Only that would be defending the man who had brought her there against her will. Wouldn't that be contradictory? Maker, her head was all knots and drunken stupor. Had someone given her medicine? She ran her tongue faintly against her lips, trying to taste any unknown flavor. Nothing.

The woman rolled her eyes, too close and obviously aware of the movement. Then she actually slapped the back of her head like she was a misbehaved child. "I haven't poisoned you, girl. If I had wanted you dead, all I had was to let nature take its course with your wounds." Maker help her, it had to be her confusion that kept her from reacting because the only thing she did was to raise her hands to the offended area, eyes open like someone faced with a thing out of its range of comprehension. "Your mind must still be addled. The taint. Your injury was festering all over. Couple of hours without proper care and you would have been a walking corpse. My thank you?"

Kate rubbed her temples, trying to get some sort of bearing back. To be on the run was usual but this was different. It was hard to keep running on unsteady floor.

The woman raised an eyebrow, her voice still the same no nonsense tone she had been using so far. "Guess that'd be wishing for too much. Commander did say you were a conscript."

Continuing with her trait of confusing severely the younger female, she moved quickly to grasp a couple of objects and threw them at Kate. A towel. Soap.

"You stink, girl," she informed ever so kindly. "Second door on the right, get going. Surana's already way ahead of you." She had forgotten Sam. How could she had forgotten Sam? Alarm coursed through her body like wild fire, eyes opening when they had been just an inch away of pushing her back into sleep. "I know you're not exactly prone to listen to pretty much anyone bar him but you can listen to me," the woman continued tersely. "Go. I'll keep things stable. You have my word." Just because she was an elf? Elves weren't perfect. They betrayed their kind as well as any other. Kate's fingers tightened around the fabric on her hands, wondering not for the first time where her things were.

Her body moved slowly nevertheless, watching the other carefully for signs of duplicity. Her face was so frank though, honest, bluntly so.

"Tabris. Get your ass in there and clean up before you screw up my work."

And, at that moment, whoever that woman was sounded just like a drill sergeant and not jailor. Kate obeyed without questioning herself.

Maker and how she was grateful after the first two minutes. Baths for her were cold lake water or a river while Sam stood watch. They weren't showers and warm water, scented soap and actual towels instead of the thinnest blanket available. It was the same kind of fascination of the little girl who had once entered into her master's bathroom, stared around at the glinting surfaces and wondered what it was like to own simple things like that. Like that day, Kate allowed her fingers to rest on the marble surfaces, trace the shining surface of the mirror. The only thing missing was her own mother, alarmed and scared, entering only to drag her out as fast as her legs could manage.

What in the world were you thinking, Kallian? Do you want the master to be displeased? Do you want us to be thrown into the streets?

First thing any Denerim elf learned. Never displease the masters of the household. Sometimes the girl wondered if those had been the first words said to her or that her lips had uttered. It did seem like it. That and forbidden. Everything was forbidden. Too much food, too much drink, too much music, too happy, too sad, too energetic, too apathetic. Fade help her, it was like they would complain if elves were made of gold and ready to be sold.

"Just don't take the whole day in there." The not so gentle voice of the older woman came from the other side of the door, complete with kicks against said surface and grumbling.

At least she hadn't said the Commander would be displeased. That would make the parallelism too strong for her pride to handle.

Instead of losing time, Kate moved to do just as the woman had said. The bandages were peeled off carefully, showing a deep scar which carried just the barest hint of black between the white flesh. It didn't seem nearly as dangerous as the woman – doctor, person? – had claimed. She had had worse with a kitchen knife. Her fingers trailed down the scar, noticing how wide, how four scratches laid in parallel lines, deeply etched in what had been smooth skin. Well. Maybe not worse. Still, not life threatening. Kate discarded the now useless bandages into the sink and slipped into the shower. The lukewarm water on her skin was all she needed to scrub herself raw. Like the creatures' stain was still upon her, like the moss she had slept in, the dust of the roads, all of that had found their way into her skin and into her soul. It was liberating. Stupid little notion.

Maker, she was turning into a disturbingly annoying person if her moods continued to shift between distrust and disgust at trusting.

Still, the water was cleansing, perfect. Kate even allowed herself to smile when she got out, even as she rubbed her skin even more strongly, as she struggled to take out every knot her hair had managed to achieve what seemed the last ten years or so. When she looked back at the mirror and saw her own image, she almost did a double-take. She had aged since those days. Her hair was still black, still annoyingly wavy, mismatched tresses since her skill with a dagger was even worse when trying it on herself. Her skin had tanned to an impossible degree, something the still waters on the way hadn't showed, her face had turned sterner, the little lines which had been of smiles had transferred to her forehead even when in rest. She reached out to smooth then with her fingers. A futile effort. She had grown and aged. But her hair, Maker's breath, she no longer looked like she was housing eels instead of hair.

Girlish reaction or not, that was one reason to be satisfied.

Sadly, enough was enough. Kate discarded the towel and pushed the nightgown back into place before reaching out for the doorknob. She was one step from opening the door when known voices stopped her.

"Ines, my love! Passion of my existence. Jewel of my eyes. My dove, my ray of sunshine, my one and only."

And if she hadn't recognized the voice, she surely recognized the disrespectful tone and the utter nonsense. The Commander's friend, Kate recalled, pulling the door just the slightest bit open so she could look into the other division. And Ines? Who was…?

"Yes, me and the fourteen other females who lack round ears in this place." It was the elven woman. Her hands rested on her waist exactly like a misplaced housewife and, if possible, her expression had turned sterner. Thankfully, not turned to her but to him. If it was to her, Kate swore she wouldn't be nearly as tranquil as the man. "You sing well but not well enough for me, Maric," she retorted dryly. "What do you want?"

"Your undying love, my dove. But as that'll take some more years, I'll be content with the new recruit for now." Kate saw him stealing a glance at the bed she had occupied earlier and then around. Searching. The opening she was looking through became ever smaller.

Ines reacted by keeping herself busy, clearing away empty flasks of what had once been medicine. "Bathing. You can't enter. And unless she comes with a chastity belt included, you won't be taking her until her friend arrives." Kate's appreciation for the older woman was rising steadily.

"You wound me deeply, my dear lady." Doubtful, he still looked like the cat that ate the canary. "I would never dare to pursue."

"Anything male or humans. And as sadly, the Commander forbade me to cut anything bellow your waist, you'll keep away from this one." Her hand rose in the air and pointed steadily to the door which, presumably, lead to the rest of the building. "Out. Get Surana."

The blond man – Maric – kept smiling in amusement. It was like the words and threats the woman spoke simply didn't filter even though she seemed highly serious. He seemed eternally amused, like the world was a circus and they the clowns he'd chose to play with. "I should get you a whip, dearest." Kate didn't want to know. Never. Ever. "So I shouldn't say that she's been watching the whole time and looking really cute in that nightgown?"

Not even her muffled curse and run for cover could drown Ines' exasperated sigh.

"Maric?" Silence. "Get out of my infirmary."

A burst of male laughter followed. Kate had to give it to him. He had the lowest self preservation instinct she had ever seen in her whole life. But he obeyed, voice finally too soft for her to hear through the now closed door. Whatever he had said seemed serious as, the second his footsteps faded, someone was knocking on the bathroom door in tandem with her own head, banging against the wood. Cursed the time she had agreed to follow into this place. It was like any of her intelligence had remained on that hill.

"If you want some degree of explanation, this is when you come out. Otherwise, they'll come here and drag you whether you want it or not."

Kate was already moving before the sentence was over, swearing against her bloody curiosity all the while.

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Grey Wardens, Ines had explained, were a little more than simple assassins. Darkspawn were a little more than simple monsters. The taint wasn't a mere stain on her skin, it was far more serious. The more Ines talked about the different things, the more Kate became skeptical over the whole thing, topping it with a wide measure of suspicion and lack of assurance over everyone's sanity. They spoke of legends and times much before their own. How could they believe their sacred duty to be killing off those things? Seriously?

Kate even doubted Sam's intelligence. He couldn't believe in this, really.

Shame that he had appeared half way to the explanation and had adopted the posture of a student near someone much wiser, nodding every time the woman added one more incredible detail to the story. Dragons? Ogres? What would be next? Fairies and magical immortal elves?

Even more unfortunate, every time Kate tried to sign him that these people were all insane and they should find the nearest window and get away from there as fast as possible, the man ignored her in favor of continuing to ask about details. Details. Like anyone could ask details about fairytales. No one cared about the color of Dane's fur, did they? Or how Aveline had had a limp on a leg and a scar crossing her whole back. Fairytales, nothing more. If she forced herself a little more, the girl could almost believe that the creatures they had fought were nothing more than an accident, freaks of nature plaguing the woods.

How quickly would she die if she called them insane to their face?

Ines' expression certainly gave that impression. The older woman was serious – well, more than she had been if possible – sitting in her chair in a manner akin to a noblewoman, never mind the fact that both Sam and her huddled together on her infirmary bed.

"So, we must pass a proof before we become Wardens, yes?" Sam ruffled his now cleaned hair, brimming like fire in the half-light of the late afternoon. "A dangerous one."

"Yes."

Kate had the impression this woman and the Commander were best friends. If only because they ignored the necessity to soften any verbal blows.

Her clear eyes turned from one elf to the other slowly. Was that pity? Fear? Evaluation of the two in front of her? "Though, for some reason," she continued. "I think you won't have trouble. The Commander is unusually good at choosing his recruits. We have little losses."

Sam exchanged a fleeting glance with her, finally worried. She understood those feelings. The idea of a loss, of having their life on the balance. Kate felt her teeth grinding against each other, nails digging on her palms. Why was everything so hard to understand? Her world was always black and white. Flee and live, stay and give up. This was a whole range of new colors and she was dead sure she wasn't enjoying it one bit.

"You can be done with the feeling of doom and gloom, idiots." Ines stood from her chair and patted away her blue uniform in fast movements, as if just by sitting she had been drowned in dust. "I know the Commander," she declared bluntly. "He knows what he does. If he says you belong here, you'll survive and you'll stay. That's all there is to know."

My job's to end them. Yours will be to kill for me. That's the only thing you need to know.

The words rang familiar and hollow. It felt like a net, ropes tied tightly around her wrists and ankles, something she couldn't free herself from. Like a human turned into a tool.

Ines didn't notice or didn't care to. She was again moving back and forth as if her own being was averse to keeping still. Words were exchanged with Sam, sharp and to the point, an uniform in everything similar to the one she wore on his hands before he was sent away to dress like a little boy. And in the same manner, the older elf turned to her, do as I say, stop complaining and, in her apathy, Kate didn't think to protest.

It would be okay, she breathed deeply, exchanging the nightware for that odd material, the weird uniform which branded them while trying to regain her standing. All she needed was to survive. It wouldn't be that hard.

"And take these too."

Amused, dry, one step behind calling her an idiot; all that passed through Ines's expression, each too quick to be retained. The woman held two daggers, sheathed in leather, worn and cared for like a treasured item of clothing.

Kate almost took a step back in confusion. "Madam?"

"Ines." A small motion to offer both items. "Take them. You look the kind who will stop flinching at shadows if she has something sharp to stick into them."

The only time Kate had held such a treasure had been when first learning. The man who had taught her believed in accepting necessity. And necessity had brought him to arm himself whenever possible. His daggers had been more beautiful than these but Kate couldn't disagree the simplicity of the grey blades was appealing. Shining eerily, a trace of cold throughout the surface who spoke of actual enchantments.

"Happy? All cheered?" Ines raised an eyebrow, pretentious sympathy out the window and into the Fade. "Now out of the freaking infirmary. This is a place for sick people, not grumbling brats. Maker damn you all, I don't get a break."

Walking like an Ogre itself was after her, the healer left her behind, holding the new weapons and wondering just where to go. Maybe just. Wait for Sam. These people seemed to have the very bad habit of gifting no indications and expecting them to follow. Like someone teaching another how to swim by throwing it into a lake. Kate leaned against her bed, fiddling with the handle of a dagger, fingers tracing the worn down leather without curiosity.

It was exactly then that everything went to hell all over again. A shrill bell began ringing, the lights above them flickering in and out like lightning instead of electricity. Her body startled in alarm, eyes turning from side to side in search of whatever danger. Andraste's sword, what now?

"What do you think it's going on?" Sam returned from wherever he had disappeared into in a hurry. He wore robes for the first time since Maker knew when, the same kind Amell had worn the day before. Blue, a vest of a material that didn't seem metal nor plastic covering his chest, ringlets of the same material covering partially the bottom of the robe, the only part of the uniform which seemed modeled after the classical style. In a way, it was very much what she was wearing only hers was skin-tight, shirt and pants covered in that odd armor. And a staff. Someone had given him a staff.

Any other moment, Kate would have wondered about the intelligence behind carrying that. But as she was carrying daggers, weapons no elf should carry, she wasn't one to talk.

"King's Guard? Chantry? Bandits? Those things? Does it even matter?"

The girl almost insulted herself when she saw Sam's face. It was stern once more, tense. Disappointed. He had thought to find peace there. The shrill noise of the siren, the hurried steps outside spoke of something much different. She touched a gloved hand to his shoulder, fingertips lingering in an unspoken apology; as if she was to blame too. He gave her a twisted little smile in return. No happiness.

"I take point." It would be worse if she commented upon it. "We should join the defenders?"

If there was any. Little pessimistic thought aside, it would be stupid to abandon something as large as that place because of a little attack. Unless it wasn't little. Maker, ties and mazes, that was all her mind could come up with since the day before.

The sheaths Ines had given her were placed quickly on her back and a dagger held by one hand, ready to be used. And talking about the older woman, Kate thought even as she walked towards the door, where the hell was she? Already fleeing? Already fighting? Well, it hadn't been the kindest thing to leave the newbies behind but still, she hoped the other would make it out unscathed of this thing, whatever it was. She had healed them after all. And armed them. That had been more help than any of the others had given.

That settled, Kate returned to the present time. Unlike her first suspicion, the door wasn't locked, sliding to the side easily when her fingers pulled on the latch. Stone walls covered with paintings and tapestries met her eyes, illuminated by lamps strategically placed, rich carpets and an opulent space. Everything no army barrack shouldn't be, the Compound surely was.

Sirens still rang, echoing in the empty hallway with the strength of Chantry bells and she could already feel a headache coming from the sheer effort of trying to understand that place.

They didn't have to wait long for danger to come knocking, almost literally. Kate had barely taken two steps out of the room when someone left stealth, right by her side, quick and agile. She barely noticed the sharp longsword just before sliding out of the way, the opposing blade all but touching her stomach.

A man, armed, dressed in black, a smirk and a sword. The elf assumed thinking she was his target wouldn't be terribly off target.

"Don't kill, Kate!"

She couldn't believe Sam was warning her not kill anyone right then! It wasn't like! Maker damnit all! She cursed loudly as the man slashed at her once more, ducking and slipping through her blows with an ease that spoke of experience. And he was smiling. Like she was about to kneel over and die at his feet, like he was toying with her instead of fighting. Not. Bloody. Likely. He fought like he was dancing, never standing in one place for long. Like a flea or a coward. It was a waste of time and movements but effective. Kate punched and he ducked, a kick directed to the space he had just vacated, another to where he was just melting into the shadows. He was just never there when her strike fell.

"Slow, girl," a whisper in her ears as they both slipped in and out of shadows. "You're too slow."

Kate's dagger ripped that place a second too late. "And you." She was about to say talk too much but the man's closed fist on her jaw halted her words. No. Damnit, no. This was a human. She could fight humans, she thought desperately, spiting the blood his blow had caused, she was good at fighting with humans. She didn't fear them; she just hated them. Throwing caution to the wind, the elf ducked when the next blow came, the longsword cutting the air right above her head, so close that she could swear some of her hair to be caught in the blow. In that moment of hesitation after the failure though, her legs steadied and then straightened immediately, her head turned weapon smashing directly into the man's chin.

The pain was immediate, sharp and resonating but the male groan, that was worth any discomfort. Pulling herself to recover, Kate didn't wait for her vision to stop wobbling. Instead, she pulled herself upwards, her fingers entwined around her dagger's handle and all three crashed against the back of his head with a satisfying crunch. He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

"Kate!"

"Didn't kill him, just hurt." Sam hadn't been inactive while she was otherwise engaged. His new staff gleamed with the aftermath of a spell, his own opponent already comfortably sleeping by the mage's feet like an oversized baby. Sam was too nice, she thought not for the first time, reigning in the wish to kick her unconscious opponent as her headache kept demanding. Shaking her hands to get rid of the aftermath of her blow, she glanced around at the maze-like hallways. "Where now?"

He probably knew just as much as she did – nothing – but picked a hallway anyway, probably by pure and complete chance, and began running. It would do as well as any other. Kate didn't think twice before following after him, the two daggers now unsheathed and unhesitant. Each hallway meld into the next, each seemed similar and not even close to show an exit, Kate noticed, trying to keep herself from despairing yet again. Last case scenario, there was always finding a window and jumping. Stupid ideas, they should stop coming and, while she was on the subject, same with the siren, ripping her head apart with each passing second.

No sooner had she thought that suggestion, she was the one stopping, clashing painfully against Sam's back as the weirdo just forgot to run. Why wasn't he running? What in the world was he thinking? A hand reached out by instinct to grab the back of his robe, barely keeping her from falling backwards.

"Maker help us, what are you doing?" Kate was yelling, she knew herself to be yelling which was probably not the best idea but adrenaline pushed her to act stupidly. Not as stupidly as stopping in the middle of running away. She pushed his back but he wouldn't budge, shielding her from. Something.

Several some things.

"Turn around." His voice, very light, very careful and just for her. "Turn and keep moving."

What was?

She moved without voicing the question in order to face exactly what he was. In front of her was a group of blue decked warriors, all weapons drawn, ready to stop her in case she chose to follow Sam's orders. And they were smiling, just like the man she had knocked out.

"Run," Sam whispered again.

Unfortunately, the reason why he had stopped was painfully obvious. And just like him, Kate doubted she would be able to fly through these people, especially considering the sheer number. One had been hard to beat but seven?

"I think that's enough for a demonstration," someone commented. "Surana, Tabris, stand down."

The loud voice would have been enough to alert anyone in the vicinity, never mind the two elves. But the sole mention of her surname was enough for Kate to turn her head towards the origin of the voice. And there was the Commander, right in front of the battalion. All around him, weapons began returning to their sheaths, warriors abandoning their readied stances for something far more relaxed. Loghain didn't quite smile. He just gave them that half shrug, half turn of lips which spoke of a boss giving a nod of encouragement to an awful employee.

"Now that you have seen what they can do," he continued, paying little attention to those he had just called off. "I assume none is against their Joining?"

The man Kate had beat appeared from behind the group, a red hand covering the back of his head and that same amused smile he had given her. Amused. The idiot was amused.

"Won fair and square, boss," he shoved the stained hand in front of him, showing it off like some sort of ghastly prize. "And unless someone thinks I took it easy on her, I pass on a rerun. I only have one head."

"Or perhaps opt for someone more qualified."

Loghain didn't spare a look at his underling – Vaughan, her mind supplied rather sluggishly, the one who simply adored them – opting by ignoring the statement all together.

"They have battled darkspawn. They have been tested. Two tests, they passed. This is more than enough. Again, is anyone against this?" The statement was spoken as a question but anyone could see it was anything but. Especially when Maric showed by his right side, a golden goblet grasped in his hands, the liquid it contained splashing indolently every time the man's hands moved. A dark liquid, a dark red that reminded her grapes smashed, of a sunset just before the sun disappeared.

"This was all a test?" She heard herself ask, her voice shaken, Maker help her, almost afraid. There was something so odd with that goblet, dark and dangerous. Ah. Funny, wasn't it? She could swear to be more afraid of it than of the people gathering around her.

The murky liquid swirled around once, twice, thrice, demanding her attention and then Loghain was looking right at her face, an affirmative nod and nothing else. "It is not the most important," he declared, halting the next obvious enquiry. "This is." And again, the liquid splashed, moved like it had a life of its own. "

Amell, Kate could see him somewhere on the back, his friendly face contorted in a worry without explanation. There was Maric, his expression actually serious for once. Her opponent, encouraging and grinning, brown hair still dropping blood from where her dagger had struck.

"Join us, brothers and sisters," And finally the Commander, goblet in hand, wordlessly delivering the potion for either of them to take, asking whether she would be first even. "Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

Should you perish. The goblet in front of her and Kate almost immediately took it in her hands, even as she could sense Sam moving by her side to do the same. Looks were exchanged like so many times before, requests unsaid, be careful, apologies and goodbyes.

Kate raised the cup to her lips, closed her eyes tightly and forced the liquid into her mouth. Then swallowed even though all her instincts told her to spat it out immediately. But she didn't. She pushed it down, forced the wish to throw up to fade away and waited. Waited until warmth filled her stomach, then spread through her body and turned itself into pain; coursing through her veins instead of blood, through every inch of her skin and flesh.

"Now you." Were the last words she heard before her consciousness abandoned her.

xxxXXXxxx

Seven. They were Seven, she noticed absently. And they were Seven too. No. That was wrong. They had been Seven, only one was left. One, scaled, corrupted, destroyed. Its voice pierced her ears but she had no hands to cover them. But the fear. She could have covered her ears for a thousand years that the voice would still shake her bones, scare her living blood out of her body. It sounded angry, hateful like a sworn enemy was supposed to be. And when it screamed at her, it spoke of failure, it laughed at her, of her, mocking and accusing and frightening; it made her wish to die, if only to escape it.

It was the last, it spoke to her, clearer words never spoken, but it wouldn't leave without taking more of them.

Remember.

xxxXXXxxx

And then Kate woke. Her head hurt, her headache worsened after whatever had happened with that stupid potion. Doubled. The elf didn't bother to try and open her eyes. She was still breathing after being poisoned, after all. Who would stab her after that? And her head. And the dream. Maker.

"See? They both woke. Yes, I am a genius and spread good luck and immunity to the taint, worship me."

Both. Sam was alright. Another deep breath and an almost smile.

"Maric." The Commander said where most would groan. "Contain the idiocy."

"Fine, let's go back to the depressing atmosphere you exude. Infirmary, got it. A question though?" A suffering tone, false and then serious like a dagger against flesh. "Why were you so sure of these two?"

In half unconsciousness, she could still feel the intensity of the pause which followed those words.

"I had a hunch."

Oh. That was just. Dandy. They had almost been killed on a hunch. The elf would have laughed if she had had the strength. As she didn't and the world was still spinning rather quickly, she settled in allowing whomever to gather her in strong arms, keeping her safely tucked like a child on its mother's arms. Before allowing herself to rest, Kate wondered just why her life seemed to be in uproar ever since they had met that man. And just what he would come up with next.

Maker, she hated humans.

Author's note: Not incredibly sure about this chapter but, unfortunately, I didn't get the time to smash ideas for it on someone. To be continued. Again, suggestions are more than welcome. Why this new character? Because I wanted her here and she amuses me.