okay on with the show...

Disclaimer...again...I do not own the rights to any part of DAO

Fayne POV

Fergus, that broken man on the dais is Fergus, it can not be!

But now as Fayne stood there watching the man, there was no denying that it was him. She wished she could say that it wasn't, that the man who was going to get his head cut off was just an impostor. However when her brother's eyes locked on hers and relief flooded in his, she knew without a doubt that it was Fergus. She could hear pounding in her ears, a sort of frantic hum that filled her them, and when she could take no more she let out a vicious scream. Heads turned as she let out all her anger at Howe, all her self pity, and sorrow for her family.

The female elf, that stood beside he, tumbled to the ground as Fayne pushed her and the people in front of her aside, the others stood in shocked silence at her display of emotion, confusion etched on their faces. Even the guard that held her brother's head seemed taken aback by the wild fury behind her lament. It felt like a hundred years to her when she finally reached the podium and came face to face with her brother. His eyes, though blood shot, looked relieved and shocked at her sudden appearance.

"I, I thought you were dead." A sob emanated from Fayne's throatas she heard her brother's pitifully weak voice. It was no longer the commanding and strong tone she had come accustomed to, rather it was stratchy and worn, like clothing dried to many times.

"No, my brother." Fayne tried to put her hand on his dirt ridden cheek and only managed to brush his chin, "I... survived."

"My wife, my Oren what of them?' his eyes became wide and a sudden vigour entered his voice as he asked her about the fate of his family.

Fayne opened her mouth to answer, but found herself whipped round by the arms and dragged back through the crowd away from her brother. On her left side Duncan had a firm grasp of her arm, and the other one was pulled by a man she didn't recognize. He was tall and muscular with strawberry blond hair. Neither man spoke to her as their eyes scanned the crowd pulling her ever on ward. They both wore a matching set of stern expressions as their unforgiving steps pulled her father and further away.

She struggled digging her heels in the dirt and twisting, but all it got her werepulled muscles and red marks. As Fayne turned her head in hopes of seeing her brother's face, her eyes instead behed a large man walking up the platform with a wickedly sharp looking axe.

"No, NO! Let me go, it's my brother Duncan, my BROTHER!"

" There is nothing you can do except get yourself killed Fayne. Don't you think they might want your head too if they even suspected that you are a Cousland as well. I may be a Grey Warden, but if the king so ordered it, there are more men loyal to him than to us."

Fayne squeezed her eyes shut trying desperately to believe that none of it was real. But she knew Duncanwas right, there was nothing she could do besides join her brother in a shallow grave marked by Howe and she had promised her family that she would live on. Howeverthere was one small thing she could do for her brother, one small gift of kindness and one last act of defiance.

As she turned to look at Fergus she saw that his head was lying sideways on a pedestal eyes locked with hers. Taking one largebreath, Fayne yelled at the top of her lungs, "They still live, they live!"

Fergus's eyes relaxed as his sister's words hit his ears. It was the look of a man who had had a tone of bricks taken off his shoulder. His eyes slowly closed as a smile emerged from the darkness of his face. She simply could not bring herself to tell him that his family was brutally murdered, better to give him hope in his last breaths.

Fayne too found her face melt into a smile in response to her brother's relieved expression; it made her feel like they were the only two in the world and that maybe things would be alright. That image was destroyed the minute the axe swung down and her brother's head rolled to the ground and landed with a thud on the packed earth. The smile froze on her face and she felt as if time had suddenly sped up out of control. The wild cheers of the crowd became a mocking laugh that pulled at her heart and made her feel like a sword had hit her in the stomach.

Hot tears came from her eyes much like the blood fell in rivulets from her brothers severed neck. That neck, it seemed to mesmerize her, to call to her. Even as the arms began pulling on Fayne again she could not stop staring at the severed body. Only until a pair of calloused hands forcefully pulled her face away from the sight, did Fayne let go of the vision that so captivate her.

As they made there way through the camp towards a series of tents, Fayne stared forward with a blank look. The arms no longer pulling her, but rather keeping her standing.

Leric POV

It was the last time a Shem took him for a servant, the last time he would keep his temper in check. So with quick reflexes Leric swung out and punched the man in the side of the head, watching with satisfaction as the human tumbled to the ground. The warden beside him, Timith, shook his head in irritation. The warden was supposed to keep an eye of him and make sure the taint did not move to fast within his body, but the man had no idea who he was really dealing with. Over the course of the last couple of hours, Timith had spent more time preventing Leric from hurting someone then preventing the taint from consuming the elf.

With a surprising loud crash the wagon and all the pottery fell into a heap upon the earth and small painted bits of pottery flew like marbles across the dirt. Though the man was completely unconscious, other people, particularly angry Shems started towards both him and the Grey Warden. The individuals were starting to create a mob, a mob that was battle hardened and angry.

"Come on lets move recruit" the gruff voice of Timith grated Leric's nerves as the older man tugged at him and brought him away from the people. His scarred face and hands were weathered and tanned, but his eyes were sharp and almost cruel. Leric didn't know what happened, most likely the result of a darkspawn attack, but a long scar that stretched across the man's face left him with a perpetual twisted expression.

"Let me go." It sounded petulant even to his ears so he was not surprised to see Timith's frown become darker.

"Great!" the man threw his hands in the air, "Absolutely great, not only do I have to do menial tasks before the battle, but I also have to play babe sitter to a wild elf."

"I am not 'a wild elf'" Leric dryly responded

"Eh... ya'll are the same to me. Dalish, wild elf, just another title on the same product, anyway where I hale from ya'll be called the Wilders"

"So I take it you come from the Free Marshes then. Youre people are the only Shems to call us by another name." Leric again took in the appearance of the senior warden, but this time he could identify Marsinian completion and accent.

"Doesn't re'lly matter, we are all of the same brotherhood now, or in your case may soon well be." With that Timith and Leric began the quick retreat back to the warden camp.

Leric was not pleased to be surrounded by the other wardens and have to face their knowing gaze. Their eyes watched his every move with calm alertness, as if waiting for him to cast aside his Elvin skin and proudly done the mantle of a shriek. Though they were polite, each person kept a distance both physically and mentally. It was fine for Leric, for he did not intend to be jovial and friendly, he intended to get the ritual over with and do his duty, nothing more and nothing less.

So Leric sat at the camp and watched the bustle of people and the goings on of the Wardens. At some point someone had left him some lamb stew, but when he bent down to take it, a strong wave of nausea threatened to take over and he dismissed the notion of eating for that night. He desperately wanted to bath and wash the sweat that trickled down his brow in earnest now; he could not understand how some of the men had blankets wrapped around them when it was so hot outside. It felt like the air had been put into a furnace.

The heat became so stifling that at one point Leric found that he had to sit far away for the group and get some fresh air. Without saying a word he exited the perimeter and sat on a near by felled tree. It was not as grand as the ones he grew up with and to him the forest in the area held despair and longing for something more. Reaching out with his hand the elf touched the birch and let the rough texture pull at his skin.

With a hushed voice and a soft tone he began to talk to the tree in his native tongue, "Owyn daes al'damner, pas gelaehte se deema hi aepele caesetir arrd'mid cempan." He took the time to say the things he never got to say to Tamlin, and spoke words he wished he could have said to comforted his friend. But instead he said them to a dead tree cut down by the Shems he despised so much. Tamlin, I wish…I wish you were here to give me strength for I fear that hatred will take over me again.

"Duncan that was her brother how could you-,"

"Enough! Alistair…you know what would have happened had word spread that she was still alive, it seems Howe has the ear of the king, or Logian."

Leric stopped his thoughts as the voices of two men floated from beyond a row of trees that obscured his vision. The first voice was young sounding and unknown to him, but the second one belonged to a man he knew and wished he had never met. Leric had only a couple of seconds to right himself before the two men appeared.

Duncan and the other man stopped short when they saw him, and the person whom they held between them sagged a little in their arms. Bright red hair that fell in cascading waves covered their shoulders as a pale face looked glazed out towards the gate.

"Duncan, Fayne, and... sir" Leric tilted his head to each person and let a mocking tone fill his voice.

He was pleased to see the eyes of the two men hardened at his tone, but the blank stare he received from Fayne sent chills down his spine. Although he cared little for the human he had been around her enough to know that she would respond in kind to any snarky remark he made. Her silence was strange and when her eyes met his, or more correctly passed his, they seemed lifeless like those of a dead man. Inadvertently he took a step away from the woman and the shadow that surrounded her.

"What happened to the female human" it came out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

"Yes Duncan why don't you tell him what happened" the tall blond human replied looking at Duncan.

Ignoring both the younger man and himself, Duncan turned and looked at Leric, "Good. You are here, we have wasted enough time we will have the joining now."

Fayne almost hit the ground when the other man dropped her for a second in shock, "What, we can't, she can't, Duncan look at her she can't go through with this."

"She will go through with it, she has no choice" Duncan started to walk again towards a set of ruins which forced the younger Shem to follow so Fayne would not fall.

Leric followed not far behind the two men, for you my brother I shall get revenge for you.

Other POV

He watched as the two men and the woman walked towards an old looking monument, though the woman hardly held her own weight. As he sat on his haunches he found frustration seep into him and anger rode quickly after. He had been so close to fulfilling his mission, one of the most important ones he had ever had and would ever have in his whole life.

If it were not for the fact that he had to stay hidden up in the tree he would have yelled out his furry. Though that would do him little good, he could not be found. He had been lucky enough to slip past the front guards by using his shadow skills, but he dare not try that so close around a camp full of Grey Wardens. The pathetic group of men had an innate ability to smell and feel a threat from miles away and he was not going to test his luck again.

No, he prided himself with being well planned and meticulous, something that came only after years of patience being taught to him. He would wait for the perfect moment in which he could fulfill the desire of the Maker and to do the bidding of the forces of good. Sitting back against the tree he smiled widely and the moon shined off his pearly white teeth.

You shall be mine fool, and the Maker will guide my hand and strengthen my will to fight what you will surely bring.