Night blanketed Denerim city, the air heavy and stale in the sweltering summer heat that pervaded even during the night. A storm lingered on the horizon, the dark clouds hovering over the ocean were illuminated with lightning that flashed from within. The streets were quiet, all of the residents retreating to their homes to escape the heat and the coming storm that was bound to break before the night was over.

Theron, however, was not content to linger in the room that Aedan had offered, feeling entirely too cooped up in the grand estate that the group of vagabonds had managed to acquire in a process that was as of yet unexplained to the Wardens. Or at least to him, at any rate. Alistair seemed to have understood the situation right away, but Theron wasn't entrenched enough in the political schemes of the shemlen to understand what the significance was, other than Aedan supposedly held the same rank as Loghain, but he wasn't technically a Teyrn, because of more details that he was fuzzy on.

The two groups had left the storehouse together to return to the Highever estate and after the initial drama that unfolded when Sola rushed upstairs to see her little brother dead and the resulting tear-filled angry lecture aimed at Kallian, there had been awkward silence in the halls. The soldiers that Aedan had brought to the fight were dismissed, and the housekeeper had ushered away the Wardens to their rooms while the others stayed behind and tried to figure out what to do with the dead lad.

At the moment, Sten was minding his equipment and Alistair was trying to convince the human woman that ran general affairs that he needed to eat despite the late hour. With everyone busy doing their own thing, Theron had decided that it was a good time to go missing for a little while, entirely uncomfortable spending too much time under a roof and enclosed by walls. He left through a door to the garden outside and inhaled deeply when he was back out under the open sky, glad for the fresh air even if it was tinged with the dull rot of city life. He stood in silence for a long moment, then something caught his ear. Cocking his head, Theron listened for it again, and caught the whisper of sound that rose and feel in a gentle sad cadence. Was someone singing?

Curious, he followed the noise, but no matter how he looked around the grounds there was nobody. Looking up, he wondered for a moment if perhaps that whoever was out could be on the roof. Deciding that there would be no harm in looking, he slipped off his boots, looked for a handhold, then took a few steps back and ran forward, pushing off the wall to gain some height so that his fingers caught the sill of a narrow window and started the climb to get onto the roof. The stones of the building were sturdy, but uneven, which provided a plethora of places to grab onto and continue ever upward. Scaling the building wasn't really that much different than scaling a tree, Theron noticed with a self-satisfied grin. Even if there was nobody on the roof, he figured that the climb would be worth it. It took his mind off the business of trying to gather an army and any other number of things that were important to the fate of the entire world. At the moment, he was just a regular elf, climbing a regular wall.

Once he hauled himself up over the edge and onto the tiled sloping roof, Theron dusted off his hands and looked around. It took him a little while, but he spotted a huddled figure sitting on top of the roof's peak that pointed toward the sea, the vantage point providing a clear view of the sea beyond the high walls that surrounded the compound. He walked closer and began to make out the words to the sad trilling song.

"The clouds roll on in the endless night,
The stars shine upon the sea
May the waters find your path to be fair
Until we meet again. Until we meet again.

The winter's sky is cold and bright
The morning sun is nigh.
The road you travel is straight and true
Until we meet again. Until we meet aga-"

A tile cracked under his foot, and the singer whipped her head around, green eyes wide as she looked for the intruder, her song cutting off immediately.

Kallian relaxed a bit when she saw that it was only Theron, and turned her gaze back out over the ocean. "Go away." She hunkered down, wrapping her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them, determined not to look back and let the Warden see her tear-stained face again.

He paused, unsure of what his next action should be, then walked forward and crouched down next to her on the slanted roof, looking out over the ocean as well. "It was a beautiful song."

Despite her resolve to not look Theron in the face, Kallian turned at the unexpected compliment and rubbed the heel of her palm against her eye, wiping away another stray tear. "You don't have to say that t'make me feel better. I know you ain't a fan of city elves."

He sighed heavily and finally sat on the edge of the roof, letting his legs dangle over the edge. "A close friend of yours died today." He replied softly, glancing sideways at Kallian for a second before resuming his tense study of the horizon. "In this, it does not matter to which race you belong. I understand your pain, and you have my condolences."

Kallian nodded almost imperceptibly, then simply rested her chin on her arm and looked out over the horizon as she had been before, letting the silence between them stretch for a long moment as the embankment of clouds rolled steadily toward them. "Tell me about the Dalish."

Admittedly, Theron was caught off guard by the murmured request and briefly contemplated all the possible consequences of telling this city-born elf anything about his people. Unconsciously, his hand trailed to a deep scar on his arm given to him by Swiftrunner, the vicious werewolf desperate to protect their secret hideout in the ruined temple had singled him out and attacked with all his might. After a bit of deliberation he decided that if she really wanted to know, then he really had no reason not to tell her. The recent events in the Brecilian, however, he would keep to himself. "What do you want to know?"

She shrugged with a noncommittal nose in the back of her throat. "I don't know, anything I guess. How do you live in the forest? What's it like never bein' in a city? That sort of thing."

"Well, we don't sacrifice goats to our gods, first of all."

Kallian snorted and smiled for a brief second. "Still sore about that, huh?"

In return Theron simply shrugged his indifference. "I've heard elves from the city come to us with wilder tales. I don't know who tells you that we sacrifice infants to the trees, but we don't."

"That's reassuring. Then at least I can be happy that if Pol did manage to find the Dalish, that he wasn't laid out on a stone tablet for some blood ritual." Kallian rolled her eyes, though she dearly hoped that elves from the city were also excluded from the list of things that the Dalish sacrificed to pagan gods.

"Pol?" Theron lifted his head at the name, recognizing it instantly though it took him a few seconds longer to place the name with the face. "There was a Pol that joined my clan shortly before I was recruited to the Wardens. He was an elf of the city as well."

Instantly Kallian's mood lightened at the news, her teeth showing in a broad grin. "He made it!" She breathed with a relived sigh. "I'm glad. He got into some bad trouble with the guard, an' after they tried to get him, we never heard 'bout him again. We all thought that if he was probably taken an' locked up for good. Held a funeral for him an' everythin'."

Theron cocked an eyebrow at that, tilting his head in curiosity. "What crime did he commit that the punishment is death?"

Kallian waved her hand dismissively, a look of disgust wrinkling her brow. "Filched something from somebody, maybe. If you get caught, you get arrested, an' if you can't pay the fine, you get put in prison or executed. Well, there ain't no elf from our Alienage that can pay the fine fer much of anythin', so if yer taken by the guard, then yer dead. It's… how it works." A chilly wind made her shudder, the stillness of the air finally breaking as the storm steadily drew closer to them, breaking the heavy silence that had engulfed the city. Without warning, the wind suddenly picked up and began whipping around, screaming through open windows and blowing all manner of trash and papers around below. Kallian stood, patting off her pants then walked the way that Theron had come, expertly navigating over the roof tiles with careful soft steps. "Looks like that's the cue to leave."

The two elves scaled back down the side of the building, though Kallian beat Theron to the ground by a lot and made sure to heckle him from her place safely on the ground while he tried to follow her handholds. By the time that he managed to reach the ground, she had already put her shoes back on and was walking through the doors.

Taking his heavy boots in hand, Theron followed, seeing as he had no desire to get utterly drenched in the storm that was about to come. The whipping wind ceased as soon as the two were through the doors that lead to the grand ballroom, the thick stone walls doing an excellent job of keeping the terrible weather outside where it belonged.

"Why do they call you Gray Wardens anyway?" Kallian mused out loud, glancing over her shoulder at the Dalish elf who was more than content to keep his shoes off.

Snorting, Theron continued walking into the estate, trying to remember the way back to his designated room. "Ask the order. Unfortunately, I didn't get the full history lesson."

"Well, I mean, why don't they call you the Red Wardens?" Kallian continued, catching up and walking by his side. "I mean, every time I see you bursting through doors, you're always covered in blood. Seems more appropriate if all you do all day is running around kicking asses."

That got a bitter chuckle out of him, and he nodded his head in agreement. It did seem like a more appropriate name, given the current circumstances. He seriously doubted that most Wardens had to put up with all of the same crap that he did, what with trying to single-handedly stop a Blight while facing incriminating charges from the country's ruling forces. No matter where he went, it always seemed that things ended with someone dead. "Perhaps when we're done saving the world, I'll petition whoever is in charge to have the name changed."

The two were in the guest halls now, Kallian expertly navigating the way since she was far more used to the layout of the estate, and Theron was content to follow, only just now beginning to recognize where he was.

"So, what are you doin' back in Denerim?" Kallian hedged, glancing at the taller elf out of the corner of her eye. "I didn't think we'd see ya fer a few weeks yet. The gossipers had you guys pegged in the Brecilian."

He shouldn't have been surprised to hear that this city elf had been keeping tabs on their position, but he was surprised to hear that somehow word of their travels was being reported all across Ferelden. He didn't even know how that was possible, since he knew that the Dalish didn't talk to outsiders. Perhaps they had someone following them? Or… maybe it was Bohdan. Now that he thought about it, that was the most likely answer. Right. The short man was getting a severe talking-to. "We were headed to Orzammar." Theron replied after a little while, correctly assuming that whether he told Kallian or not, she would find out anyway. "But Lothering is completely plagued with darkspawn. It would be foolish to head south past them, even if we are Grey Wardens. Besides, we needed to restock our supplies a bit, and Denerim was closer than Redcliffe. We'll be heading out tomorrow though."

Kallian nodded absently, then stopped in front of a door that Theron assumed was her own room, placing her hand on the doorknob lightly. For a long while she simply stared at the floor, her face an expressionless mask, then she glanced up at him, and there was a wealth of sadness in her gaze. "All the same. I don't want ya to think that I'm ungrateful fer you comin' in today. Thanks fer… savin' me an' all. I owe you one." With a nod, she disappeared behind the door and left Theron to his own devices. Once she was out of sight, Kallian pressed her back against the solid mass of the old wooden door and slid down it until she could rest her forehead against her knees.

"Norris…" She whispered under her breath, voice hitching. "I'm so sorry…"

•º•.•º•

The funeral rights were given by one of the women of the Chantry, the young woman uttering the words with great solemnity, as if she actually cared. Nola cried the entire time, surrounded by others that offered condolences and cried along with her. Even outside of the Alienage, the mentality that they had grown up with persisted. A loss of one was a loss of all.

Through the ceremony Kallian stayed withdrawn from it all, listening to the Chant as the voice that sung it rose and fell, the pyre that Norris' body was laid on went up in flames, commemorating his body and soul to the Void and the Maker. Nola's crying spiked, and it took the physical support of her fellows to keep her on her feet. Even then Kallian simply stood with dry eyes and a passive expression, her arms crossed over her chest as she observed the fire.

The gathered elves began to disperse then, the ceremony done until the ashes could be collected and given back the family. Kallian however, remained behind and Solona stayed after when she noticed, Aedan lurking just out of earshot.

The mage put her hand on Kallian's forearm, squeezing gently. "Come on, let's head back." She murmured softly, but Kallian showed no signs of moving.

Instead, she began unraveling the strip of red cloth on her left hand. "I'm goin' with you." She replied, glancing over her shoulder at Solona. "To Redcliffe, I mean. You guys could use someone rogue-like an' dastardly, right? I think I fit the description." She took a step forward, drawing her arm out of Solona's hand and approached the fire. When the heat of the open flame was too much to continue further, she tossed the fabric onto the burning pyre. It caught fire almost immediately, the hungry flames consuming the dry fabric rapidly and an updraft caught the light material, sending it high with the ashes of the burning flame. Kallian watched it soar into the sky with the smoke, drifting ever upward as it deteriorated to nothing but unrecognizable ashes fluttering in the wind.

"Are you sure?" Solona asked, stepping forward so that she was just a few paces behind Kallian, trying to work out the elf's emotions, but she was given precious little to go on. She'd shut herself up tight.

"Yeah…" Once the ashes of her tribute had been thoroughly scattered, she turned and gave Solona a small smile that did nothing to ease the mage's concern. "I'm leavin' Sticker in charge. He'll look after 'em all."

Solona paused, biting her lip to keep from saying something that might make Kallian retreat further. "If you think that it'll be best."

Nodding, Kallian lead the way back to the estate, two concerned friends trailing in her wake.

•º•.•º•

Kallian was standing outside the tower doors that lead to the basement of the estate, a silent inner battle being ferociously raged as she tried to force herself to take that last step and open the wooden door. It was just a basement. It's not like she was going to get locked up the moment that she set foot over the threshold. The others were down there too, so she wasn't going to be alone either. But still, even with all of those rational thoughts piled up on top of one another, there was still no moving her body. Her wrists itched with remembered pain of the chains that had kept her bound, and below the forced self-assurances that everything would be all right her instincts were screaming to run away and never come back.

"Kallian?"

She jumped at the deep voice, spinning in place and landing in a position to fight, her hands reaching for her daggers. If Sticker was surprised by her reaction, he didn't show it, simply looking at the redhead with a cocked eyebrow, his yellow-green eyes searching her face. "Something wrong?"

Heaving a huge sigh, Kallian shook the nervousness out of her fingers and pressed her thumb against the bridge of her nose. "Naw, you just startled me somethin' good, is all." Recovering from the momentary adrenalin high, Kallian let her hand fall to her side and looked up at Sticker, her face completely serious. "I actually needed to find you. I'm gonna leave you in charge of things while I'm gone." She pasted on her best smile. "Maker knows that Ammy and Basher probably are gonna need all the help that they can get. So when they go to Redcliffe, I'm gonna head out with 'em."

For a long moment there was silent between the two elves, then Sticker crossed his arms over his chest. "No."

Kallian blinked, sure that she had heard him wrong. "What?"

"Nope. You're not shoving this off on me." Sticker reiterated, his face a mask of pure stubbornness.

She didn't even bother to hide her confusion, though the astonishment was quickly being replaced by annoyance, however. "Why not?"

In reply, Sticker sighed, uncrossing his arms long enough to run a hand through his tightly cropped orange-red hair. "I ain't a leader, Kallian. You're the boss here. But if you leave us, if you run away, then don't you dare come back." He glared daggers at the smaller woman, and Kallian couldn't help but to be surprised into silence by the declaration. "You're not goin' because you're concerned for those two. Cousland can handle himself, and if he can't the mage will put down anyone that comes after him like a rabid dog. You're goin' because you're giving up. You got your nose burned, and now you're afraid."

Kallian's fists clenched, her anger rising hot an fast. "Don't you dare call me a coward."

"Prove me wrong." Sticker shot right back, totally undeterred by Kallian's sudden fury. "Look me in the eye and tell me that you're not running away because Sola ripped you a new one. You botched something, and one of your men lost his life trying' to protect you. Tell me that isn't the reason you're trying to escape."

For a long moment, Kallian managed to hold Sticker's gaze, but she couldn't form the words to prove him wrong. She wasn't going to win this challenge. With guilt clawing at her throat, she sighed and turned her face away, hugging her arms to her chest. "Maybe I ain't cut out for this." She admitted in a small voice. "Gettin' captured like that, an' the raid on their ship that went cross-eyed. I've nearly killed everyone twice already."

"So you think that give you the right to abandon us?" Sticker asked with a raised eyebrow, showing absolutely no sympathy for Kallian. "You go down the stairs and look the others dead in the eye, and then tell them that you're quitting. You forget that you've saved every one of us. Me, Sola, Norris… He just repaid his debt early."

Kallian sniffed, then rubbed the underside of her wrist against her eyes, squeezing out the tears before they could fall. A dry chuckle left her, then she managed to look up and meet Sticker's intense gaze unflinchingly. "Fine. If you feel so strongly about it. I'd be an idiot to leave 'em to you anyway. You'd march 'em all off the edge of the pier."

Sticker grinned at that and gave her a hearty pound on the back. "Damn straight, and don't you forget it."

"Oh, and Sticker…" Without warning, Kallian suddenly slugged him in the arm with all her strength, causing the larger elf to stagger back in surprise, clutching his forearm where her punch had connected. Once he was done scrambling and staring at her like she' grown a second head, Kallian put her hands on her hips with her best 'I'm in charge' look. "Never ever tell me 'no' again, you understand?"

Rubbing his arm, Sticker straightened with a laugh. "Yeah boss. Whatever you say."

"Good." Feeling better than she had in days, Kallian allowed herself a soft smile. "Thanks for pulling me out. I was actin' like a real ass there for a minuet."

Sticker nodded, a sly look on his face. "Whatever you say, boss."

AN: Lyrics by me~!

So, a Kallian character study, with a little Theron thrown in for fun. He's still this huge shifting grey area to me in terms of personality and everything, but I know that it's safe to say at this point our poor Warden hero is a bit conflicted, what with the Dalish vs. Werewolves epidemic that just went down not so long ago. Conflict makes for funtimes as far as I'm concerned though, so~!

ALSO! Next chapter, HoH will officially break the 100k-word barrier! I want to do something special to celebrate. Suggestions from you guys will be taken for a super special celebratory chapter! Leave a comment with your suggestion, then we'll see what happens. Suggest anything and everything! I promise not to discard any ideas out of hand! Click the review button! You know you want to! Dooooo iiiiiiit!