Ignoring the memories was hard.

Only four years ago he had stood at that very spot, under the shade of the outer defensive wall, loosening arrow after arrow into the distant targets. The only difference now was his height...and the lack of effort into putting the arrows around the centre of the targets. No, not only that. He glanced up at the banners flying high at the gatehouse, the banner of the Grey Wardens. Then down at his hands, worn and rough from his years in the wild, scarred.

All things must change I suppose.

He had spotted a couple of the lords of the land as they had left the keep, muttering about their new overlord with a mixture of fear and annoyance. Apparently the Commander had been her usual diplomatic self, staring the lords down as she demanded higher taxes, more men and a more active defence of lords already straining under the pressure of the darkspawn. There had been no allowance for weakness, as expected. The choice of defending the farmlands with the soldiers was also a topic, making the majority of the lords happy while the usual faction living close to Amaranthine bemoaned their lack of protection. Nathaniel had a sneaky suspicion Lynn had simply chosen to defend the farmlands so as to more proactively combat the darkspawn, then any desire to protect the farmers...but who was he to argue?

None of the nobles had seen him, which was just as well.

Sighing he reached back and drew a fresh arrow, notched it...and placed it half a palm beneath the dead centre of the distant target. Ah, the steel is heavier here then in the free marches. Nathaniel shrugged and glanced over at the courtyard.

It wasn't as he remembered it, it was smaller, dirtier, even the grass fields seemed less green then as he remembered it, less cheerful, simple killing fields for any attackers trying to cross them. Or perhaps it's all an illusion? Perhaps my perception of it all has simply changed? It was a sobering thought, shaking it aside Nathaniel's gaze wandered to the other two junior wardens.

Anders and Mhairi was sitting on the gentle set of stairs leading up to the inner gatehouse, both sitting on the same step, head bowed low as they spoke in confiding whispers.

Cute. Nathaniel nearly scoffed, wondering when the two had suddenly gotten so close, or rather...where Anders teasing smirk had disappeared to, the small smile on his lips at the moment seemed so...genuine. At least this means both will be less likely to bother me...Nathaniel shrugged and glanced upwards, seeing their newest member walk down the stairs with her head held high, ignoring the glances the soldiers around her shot her, her eyes focused on him.

Oh good, round two. Nathaniel held back an amused smirk.

Turning his head back to the target Nathaniel carefully watched the woman through the corner of his eye. She was still dressed in that ridiculous 'robe' of hers, along with mile green boots reaching up to her knees. Is she even aware of how that makes her look? The way she ignored the stares of the male soldiers around told Nathaniel no... Her sandy hair was no longer sweaty and sticking to the back of her neck, now it was tied back into that bun of hers, leaving rogue strands to arch across her forehead, giving a her a somewhat barbaric impression, which wasn't the least helped by the scowl on her angular face. She was far smaller then the soldiers around her, men and women covered in steel...with her tanned skin so brazenly on display Velanna resembled wood in comparison.

A glance at her confident walk and Nathaniel shrugged. Then again wood can be pretty hard too...He placed an arrow into the target, close enough to the centre to please him.

"I spoke to some flat eared fools on the way here..." Velanna's voice was soft, but he could hear the glee in it, that she had a plan. Ah, recovering some pride are we? Nathaniel ignored the woman as he drew another arrow and aimed down the range. "...apparently your family owned these lands." The arrow thudded into the corner of the target, drawing a smirk from the Dalish even as Nathaniel berated himself. Of course she would hear of this...should have been prepared.

"That is correct." He grunted, taking a calming breath as he reached back to draw another of his standard arrows.

"Yet now you are here, following the woman that killed your father." Velanna pressed, obviously enjoying herself greatly.

I realise you're trying to bait me, recover some pride or whatever...but this is...rude. Nathaniel kept his tone neutral though, not willing to yield. "Correct again."

"And how does that make you feel?" Velanna was nearly grinning, arms crossed over her chest as she pushed her advantage.

He had expected such a question, yet it struck him harder then anticipated...and strangely it didn't make him angry, only confused. Frowning he notched the arrow. Do I hate the Commander? I don't like her...but I can also respect her...does that preclude hate? It's hard to hate for a very long time...it's not that burning fire in my gut anymore...only a simmering thing. Sure it claws at me at night...but so does many things...

"Nathaniel?" It was strange hearing his name in the woman's mouth, the 'e' oddly elongated, as if she was trying to sing it. Maybe she means it as an insult?

Shrugging Nathaniel answered her, his tone neutral: "I focus on things greater then myself, my personal emotions are of no consequence."

"That's what I thought." The woman snorted. "Must be hard to follow an elf around, an elf so much greater then yourself..."

Got you. Nathaniel held back his smirk as he pulled the string to his bow taut and took aim at the distant target. "And a flat ear to boot." He released the arrow even as Velanna flinched at the implication, they both obeyed the flat ear after all...and Nathaniel couldn't help but smirk as the arrow hit the dead centre of the target.

The Dalish snorted, her arms dropping to her sides as she shifted her weight from one foot onto the other, no doubt irritated with how he had stopped her offensive. Then she glanced at the bow in his hand...and the smirk returned. "The Dalish are the best archers in the known world you know..."

Trying to insult my professional pride now are we? I must have really hurt her pride back in the keep... Nathaniel shrugged as he pulled a fresh arrow out of his quiver. "So they say."

"Far superior to any human with their inferior eyes..."

He notched the arrow. "Sounds probable."

"Able to-"

He drew back and loosed the arrow, the missile smashing into the end of the arrow in the centre, cleaving it in two with the force of the impact until it finally too was embedded in the target.

Silence, Velanna's gaze going between him and the target.

I enjoyed that way too much. Nathaniel held back his grin as he turned to finally face the woman properly, lowering his bow as he kept his face a polite mask. "Did you wish something of me?"

The elf blinked, pushing the wonder in her bright grey eyes aside with a visible force of will as she struggled to recover. "I...yes..." She frowned and looked him up and down, as if re-evaluating him, then cocked her head to the side as she with a nearly friendly gesture pointed at the quiver on his back. "I wondered about those quivers of yours..."

Nathaniel smiled politely. Good, she can conjure some manners at least. "Yes, I have several for different types of arrows." He had thought of it quite a while ago, and now with some extra time on his hands he had gotten to work in arranging his arrows as such. "The main quiver is for standard arrows." He shot a thumb back to the large quiver, then reached back towards the smaller one attached to that one with a leather strap. "The smaller one attached to it has armour piercing arrows." He held up the arrow, its tapered point long and thin.

To his surprise the mage before him actually seemed to be listening. Guess a Dalish would like arrows no matter what their occupation is...

Turning slightly he showed at a flat quiver nearly horizontally strapped to his lower back, the arrows there fixed tightly in the snug fit. "Hollowed arrows filled with dust of iron, explodes on impact, to disorient." A short gesture for the longer one hanging from his belt and resting against his right leg. "Fire arrows." Another gesture, this time to the one hanging over his left leg. "Bottle tipped, to be filled with poison or acid, for tough targets."

"You...come prepared." The woman admitted, almost sounding pained to admit it. Guess that's a compliment... "And that one?" She pointed over at an arrow Nathaniel had chosen to tie to his left quiver with a leather cord, its tip a large and decidedly round piece of iron. The elf seemed torn between amusement and fascination at the sight of it.

"For hunting small birds and knocking down fruit from trees." Nathaniel shrugged, remembering how he had lived on such things during longer scouting missions in the Free Marches. "They don't get damaged as they do when hit by a sharp arrow that way."

Velanna blinked, then smiled ever so slightly, a strangely sad smile. "Very practical..." Her voice was soft, distant, in memories...

Should I? I don't want to upset her, but then again it could be used as a diplomatic gesture... I should at least try. Pretending not to notice her sad tone Nathaniel shrugged as he in conversational tone spoke: "A shame I haven't managed to acquire some of those superior elf-flight arrows though..."

The smile disappeared, the lips becoming a thin line. Ah, I shouldn't... "You mean steal them?" Gone was the soft tone, the distant look, it was here, now...scornful. "Your humans are all alike..."

"I didn't mean 'steal'." Nathaniel pointed out, struggling to hold back his sigh of irritation. She has a chip on her shoulder the size of a mountain... "Nor did I mean any insult-"

Velanna snorted. "Bah, try me."

Nathaniel blinked. "Pardon?"

The elf raised her hands and slapped her shoulders for emphasis. "Try it, insult me, you people only manage it when you're being unthinking brutes, if you actually tried...bah." You got to be kidding...

He frowned, shaking his head slightly in confusion. From one thing to the next...is she trying to make enemies? "Baiting me like this is quite juvenile Velanna, I have no desire to insult you."

A smirk, taunting. "Amazing how often ability and desire coincides." The smirk widened, digging into Nathaniel's nerves. "And here I had begun to think you clever..."

Very well, have it your way. Nathaniel snorted as he gave in and looked the woman over, searching for a good insult. His gaze naturally fell to the ample bosom of the woman, now pressed up against her crossed arms, but a quick glance at her smirk told him that would be a bad choice. She has no doubt heard all the jokes there is back with her clan... Maybe he should make a quip about her character? There sure was a lot of material there...but Nathaniel had a feeling she would just shrug such words aside.

No, it has to be something she wouldn't expect, but which she might be insecure about. Nathaniel looked up at the woman's face. The sharp angles of the tanned face with the pale tattoos on her chin and forehead didn't offer much in the way in material, it was all things she was no doubt proud over, as were the full set of lips. Then his gaze darted to her ears, those surprisingly thin things whose length rivalled that of any other he'd ever seen...and he knew he had it. He actually liked them, it made her face less harsh, gave some softness to a face of nothing but sharp angles.

But she doesn't need to know that. "Your ears remind me of that of a deer."

The elf blinked, then snorted, then her eyes darted sideways as a slight blush appeared on her cheeks...her lips becoming a thin line of irritation. "See? You couldn't come up with anything..."

"If you say so." Nathaniel held back his smirk, reminding himself that he actually hadn't wanted to insult her. Felt good though.

Velanna pursed her lips, still not looking at him, eyes narrowing as she tried to think of some stinging retort. Of course if she actually came up with one she would only prove that he had struck a nerve...and they both knew it. And it's getting better...

"We are leaving." The two jumped in fright at the new voice entering the conversation, finding Lynn standing between them, dead eyes going from one to the other as she waited for them to react. How did she...? Nathaniel knew he was good at detecting people, and even though Lynn had a certain stealthy way of moving he should have seen her approach in her golden armour, or at least heard her.

Must have been too distracted...Nathaniel managed to recover enough to ask: "Where to Commander?"

"Amaranthine." Lynn snapped, apparently not feeling the urge to share more information. Then she was suddenly scowling, nearly making Nathaniel take a step back, an illogical fear of her disapproving of his question entering his mind.

Then he saw her turn her head to look over at Anders and Mhairi. At the pair still sitting on the stairs leading to the inner courtyard, still smiling as they spoke in hushed whispers, Mhairi's hands in Anders'. As he watched Lynn's scowl turned into a heated glare. Uh oh...

"Mhairi!" The voice was cold...and tinted with a hint of anger more terrifying then a hurlock's roar of hatred.

As one the pair jumped to their feet, Mhairi's hands wrenching themselves free from Anders', her left slapping her leg as the right one shot up to salute, her face staring forward...and peach in colour. "Yes Commander!"

"You are to stay here and train the new recruits!" Lynn snapped, and Nathaniel couldn't help but notice her hands were clenched into fists, as if the woman was suddenly struggling to contain a temperament Nathaniel barely thought existed. "Anders!"

"Y-yes?" The mage stuttered, paling as he inched away from Mhairi, looking like a child caught stealing.

"You're with me!" The elf snapped, then when the mage shot Mhairi a look her voice turned into a low growl. "Now..."

"Y-yes Commander!" Anders jumped to obey even as Lynn brushed past Nathaniel, already heading through the gatehouse and the open road.

Shaking his head Nathaniel looked after the Commander marching on, her shoulders stiff in anger. He frowned in confusion. "What was that about?"

"Same as always..." Anders muttered, the mage moving past Nathaniel, his eyes downcast, lips pursed in a pout. "...she's just a grouch."

"I doubt that..." Velanna muttered and moved to follow.

Nathaniel could only nod in agreement.

888

Thanks to Abydos Jackson for not having killed me yet.