Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

Rating: T

Spoilers: May contain spoilers for Origins, Origins DLC, Awakening, and Dragon Age II, Dragon Age II DLC, Dragon Age Inquisition as well as the novels The Stolen Throne and The Calling.

Chapter Five

They stopped to treat their wounds and catch their breath after the battle with the ogres, and the sudden southerly breeze that blew in to cool their sweaty, overheated faces was welcome.

"Well, that was an odd series of odors," Loghain said. "Urine, wood moss, rotting meat. Unless I miss my guess, we're somewhere close to our woodland hermit's lair."

"How can you tell that just by smelling something?" Aveline asked. "I didn't smell anything."

"Was I the only one inhaling, then? Seemed pretty pervasive to me. Really, I can still smell it."

"All I smell is the outdoors," Shianni said.

"I can smell it," Zevon said. "I can't pinpoint where it's coming from, or tell what it is, but it's pretty nasty, all right."

Loghain pointed south. "It came up from there, on the breeze. That's where our hermit is camping, or I'm not a hunter."

"How do you know it's not just the den of another bear or something like that?" the Warden asked.

"Because I smell a campfire, too. Bears don't light campfires, and they don't cook meat. Neither do darkspawn, as far as I know - but you're the warden. Perhaps you know better."

"Actually I don't. But I've never known them to make camp, actually."

"Come on, quietly now. We don't know what to expect from this guy."

"We've kind of got him outnumbered, Ser," Aveline said.

"Never underestimate an unknown enemy, Lieutenant. I've met people I wouldn't want to take a group this small up against, and hermit or no, he may have unknown allies."

They proceeded on cautiously, as Loghain advised. Beyond a pair of Tevinter-style pillars holding up nothing at all, they found a small encampment. It appeared to be untended for the time being, but the fire, some distance from the rest of the camp, had been burning recently. This close, the smell of piss and rotting meat was obvious to every nose.

"Well, he's not here," the Warden said. "Do you think we can still find the acorn without him? It is… just an acorn, not something he's likely to think of as some great treasure. He might not ever even notice it was missing if we find it."

"He went through an awful lot of trouble to take it," Loghain said. "Still, if he has a hidey-hole for treasures, I'd expect it would be in that hollow stump. But it might be trapped."

"I can try for it," Tabris said.

"Let me," Zevon said. "I have some experience with booby traps." He looked into the knothole on the side of the stump and reached his thin hand inside. He withdrew a shining golden acorn, and a man appeared on the edge of the camp from thin air.

"Robbers! Robbers! That's private property, that is! Give it back! Give it back now!" the hermit said, banging his staff on the ground.

"Tell you what, I'll trade you for it," Loghain said. The man paused.

"What have you got to trade?" he said, wary and backing away a step.

Loghain dug in his pack for a moment and came up with a book. "This. One first edition of An Antivan Crow in Emperor Florian's Court. Well-read but still holding together."

The hermit's eyes widened with an avaricious gleam. "Mmm… that would make for good reading by moonlight… or decent paper for wiping… It's a deal. Give it to me!"

"Here you go," Loghain said, and handed it over. The hermit snatched it out of his hands and disappeared again.

"General, why did you do that?" Aveline said.

"Why did I do what?"

"Bargain with him. We could have simply killed him and taken the acorn. Now he can go back and take the bloody acorn from the Grand Oak again, and you lost your book to him as well!"

"Why should I care? I've read that book a dozen times, and this feud between man and tree is nothing to me. Fighting isn't the only solution to every problem, Lieutenant," Loghain said. "Now we can take the acorn back to the tree and hopefully cement our deal, get through the forest to wherever the werewolves are hiding, find this Witherfang, and save the elves so they can join with us to fight the darkspawn. I don't have any other purpose here. I suggest we get moving with that purpose so we don't die of severe inaction, traipsing all over this thrice-blasted forest for everybody and his froggin' sycamore."

The Warden chuckled. "Not much of a Samaritan, are you, Teyrn Loghain?"

"Our nation - and Thedas in general - doesn't have time for random acts of kindness right now. But… it is your show, Warden. For now."

"Really? It hasn't seemed much like it thus far."

"Mmph. I… I guess I'm kind of used to being in charge. Sorry."

"It's all right. I appreciate your sense of organization and all your ideas."

"Back to the Grand Oak, then?" he said.

"Lead the way, Master of Tactics," she said. They followed the path back to the great white sylvan, who was overjoyed to receive its acorn, and gave them in return a branch it claimed would help them pass safely through the most guarded areas of the forest. Morrigan said it was a staff of great magic. The Warden gave it to Bethany, whose staff was the plainest and least powerful of all. They proceeded back to the eastern forest, following the werewolf tracks. They came to a place where thick mist shrouded the way forward.

Loghain and Elilia were the first through, and the first to end up right back where they started, by the magic of the forest. "Well, that worked well," Loghain said. "Is this what the Grand Oak meant, then? It's branch didn't seem to work for us."

"Bethany didn't go through with us," the Warden said. "I think we'd better all go through in a tight clutch, with Bethany and her new staff in the middle."

"Sound plan. You're not totally without tactical skills yourself, youngling," Loghain said.

"You could stop condescending to me."

"Not in the foreseeable future, my dear. You have to earn my respect."

They proceeded through the mist as planned, and found their way unblocked by whatever magic the mist possessed. Loghain clapped the Warden on the shoulder. "A fine idea, my girl. You got us through the mist. More ideas like that, and I won't feel the need to take over anymore."

"Going to make me your protégé?" she asked.

"Would it be such a bad thing if you learned something from this?" he said.

She hesitated. "I suppose not."

He clapped her on the shoulder again. "That's a good girl. Forward march, eh? Off we go."

It wasn't far from there to the ruin where the werewolves were apparently bivouacked. Swiftrunner, the leader of the werewolf gang, met them there with some of his followers.

"The forest has not been vigilant! Come, my brothers! Attack!" he cried.

The party met their attack with force of their own. The werewolves were powerful, but the group was able to fend off their teeth and claws with magic and their blades. Loghain drew black his sword and struck a hard blow at Swiftrunner himself that knocked the creature backwards. He rushed in for the kill, but a giant white wolf bounded in from nowhere and jumped him, bowling him over. The wolf backed off, growling, protecting the werewolves, and then they all turned and ran for the ruins.

"We've got them cornered now," the Warden said.

"Don't count on it," Loghain said. "We've no idea how extensive these ruins are."

"There might be treasure," the Warden said, with a gleaming grin.

"Now is not the time to search for it. Let's get in there and find those wolves. I want this wrapped up before the sun sets. We've already spent too much time at this nonsense."

"Oo, so impatient. That's really very unhealthy, you know," the Warden said.

"Get moving."

They headed into the ruins and were promptly attacked by a pair of werewolves that came running up from a side corridor. After dealing with them, they followed that corridor down a long flight of stairs to a locked and barricaded door.

"Well, here's probably where they are, but we're not getting in this way," the Warden said. "We'll have to find an alternate route."

"Like shit we will. Come on. That sylvan we killed back there will make a lovely siege weapon," Loghain said.

"Subtle. I like it," the Warden said, with only a hint of sarcasm.

"Do you want subtlety or do you want Witherfang?" Loghain asked. "There may not be another way 'round. While we're off searching, it could escape."

"It may not be down there at all," the Warden argued.

"Well, we'll find out. It'll be quicker than taking the long route."

They went back to the small clearing just past the mist where four sylvans had attacked and hauled the largest one back to the ruin with them to use as a battering ram. In a few strong hit's they had the door open. Beyond, they found a large room disrupted by the roots of an enormous tree. The werewolves were there, ready to fight, but a strange, naked, pale-skinned woman with roots twining up her legs held them back with a raised hand.

"Peace, Swiftrunner," she said. Her voice echoed strangely. "They do not understand. If we speak to them, perhaps they will not fight us."

"Grrr, but my lady, they broke down the door. They come to kill you! They cannot be trusted!" Swiftrunner said.

"There are things they do not know," the woman said. "Perhaps they can yet be reasoned with. Would you see more of your brothers and sisters killed?"

Swiftrunner stood down. "No, my lady. Anything but that."

The lady addressed the group. "Will you parley?" she said.

Loghain gave Elilia a nudge. "You got them to stand down at the bridge with your silver tongue, Warden. If they want to speak now, you do our side of the talking."

"You trust them just to talk?"

"Not every battle needs to be fought with swords," Loghain said. "Sometimes they can be won with words."

"You think they're going to hand us the heart of Witherfang?" she said.

"Doubtful. But let us hear what they have to say nevertheless."

"I didn't expect you to be the reasonable type. I like this side of you. All right. We'll parley." The Warden turned to the lady and stepped forward with her hands raised in supplication. "Let us speak together," she said. "There is no need for further bloodshed."

"I thank you, humans," the lady said. "I speak for the werewolves of the Brecilian Forest. They call me the Lady of the Forest. I know you come for Witherfang, but you will never find him unless I allow it. I will never allow it until you know the truth about certain things on which you have been lead astray."

"I rather thought there may have been some things we did not know," the Warden said. "Zathrien seemed rather shifty to me about a lot of things, particularly about your friends' sentience and their apparent grudge against his clan. All right, speak on, my Lady. Enlighten us. Tell us your side of the story."

A glimmer lit the Lady's fully black eyes. "It begins long, long ago. There was… a great tragedy. A crime, inflicted against Zathrien's children. By humans."

"How long ago exactly?" Loghain asked.

"Centuries," the Lady said. "More than long enough for everyone in the area, elves and humans, to forget all about it… except for Zathrien, of course. And for me. And for these poor, cursed creatures, doomed forever to pay for a crime they did not commit."

"Tell on," the Warden said.

"There was a village at the forest's edge, the edge there was then before the forest overtook the village," the Lady said. "A human village. The Dalish were new, and human hatred of them was fresh. Zathrien camped his clan near the forest's edge, not too close to the village. He thought they would be safe enough where they were. He thought the forest would protect them. He was wrong."

"Does this have to be so theatrical?" Loghain said. "Can we have the condensed version?"

The Lady smiled and nodded. "Very well. Suffice to say, Zathrien's two children, a son and a daughter, went out hunting and were found by men of the village. The boy was beaten and killed. The girl was raped and left for dead. Zathrien found her and saved her, but she killed herself when she later discovered that she was with child. Zathrien… bound a dreadful spirit of the forest to the body of a great wolf and set it among the humans to spread the curse of the werewolf. The perpetrators of those long-ago crimes have long paid for their sins, but these… are their descendants, and are quite innocent. I have helped them to regain something of their sense of humanity, and now they wish only for this dread curse to lifted from their shoulders. Only Zathrien himself can do this. It is bound to his life, but his death would not end it. He must do it willingly. Will you help us? Will you bring him here and convince him to save us from this curse we have lived with for too many generations? I cannot stave off their bestial natures forever."

A strange expression screwed up the Warden's face. Connivance, perhaps. "That might be a hard sell. I think I've got a better idea. Come back to the camp with us, and kill the elves."

"Hrraaghhh I like this idea," Swiftrunner said.

Loghain clamped his hand around the Warden's mouth. "It would avail you nothing, however. Kill his people and Zathrien would never end your curse. You'd have to kill him, and then you're done for, right? You said it yourself, my Lady."

"This is true. Zathrien's death would mean the death of all our hopes," she said.

"Then stay here. Let us find him, and let us put to him this hard sell. We may have to use force, but if we limit ourselves, we can bring him to surrender."

Elilia managed to wrestle his hand from her mouth. "What are you doing?" she whispered. "Think about this! We could have werewolves fighting darkspawn at our side instead of elves!"

"And then they lose their minds later on like the Lady said and start making more werewolves from our people until we have another Lycanthrope Plague," Loghain said. "No, we have to save these people. They are people, you realize, not just clever beasts. The elves, too, are people, and they have nothing to do with Zathrien's curse. It seems to me if Zathrien breaks the curse on these werewolves, he breaks the curse on his people as well. Two peoples saved at one cost, and then the elves fight for us. Where is the loss, I ask you?"

"But -"

"What is wrong with you? You jump all over yourself to help everyone and his brother, and then you try to throw a clan of Dalish to werewolves? You're a sick woman, Warden," Loghain said.

"Well, I… it's not that, I just… the werewolves would make great allies, you have to see that," she said.

"I do, but have you heard this one? 'A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.' Particularly when it means it means standing for what is right… and saving the nation from the spread of a dreadful curse. Particularly the latter."

"I hate to say it, Eli," Alistair said, and it sounded very much as though he did, "but Loghain is right. We cannot betray the elves in order to take the werewolves."

"All right, all right, I see it. Don't hog pile me," she said. "We'll get Zathrien and somehow convince him to break the curse for everyone."

"Please. We beseech you," the Lady said. "Our lives and our sanity depend upon your success."