A/N: My apologies to those that I promised I would try to have this chapter out last week! I usually do my writing on the weekend, and last weekend that didn't work out. So I tried to write this chapter during my limited spare time during the week, and couldn't get it totally finished until today. Sorry for the delay! I will do my level best to have the next chapter up by next Monday to make up for it :).
As always, thanks to all those who have favorited, followed, and otherwise read the story so far!
Extra special thanks go to Cheecho, Ukitsu43, and Barleyguy for their kind reviews, which finally put me over 20 reviews total! Please R and R everyone, I love to hear what people think! Hope you enjoy!
Note: Out of necessity, this chapter is a little more Dragon Age plot heavy than previous chapters have been. Don't worry, there will be more Alistair/Ayla moments, of both fluff and smut variety, in later chapters!
Disclaimer: Don't own Dragon Age or related things, do own Ayla!
Chapter 18: The Curse
Aedan held up his hands in a peaceful gesture. "I'm afraid we cannot do that. You see, we were actually looking for the Dalish, and have been for the last few days."
The female elf glared at him suspiciously, her eyes sweeping over the rest of the group, arms crossed. The other two had not yet lowered their bows. "I find that hard to believe. What business could we Dalish possibly have with a group like yours?"
Aedan swept her his usual courtly bow. "We are Grey Wardens, that wish to speak with your leader."
The elf's expression didn't waver in the slightest. "Grey Wardens? How do I know you're telling the truth?"
Ayla had moved back next to Alistair, giving Aedan space even as she picked out where exactly the other elves were amongst the trees, should they decide to attack. She could see Morrigan and Zevran doing the same as she whispered to Alistair, "Maybe you two should start carrying around darkspawn skulls so people will believe you when you say you're Grey Wardens."
Alistair snorted in agreement as he whispered back, "They'd probably just say 'How do I know that's actually a darkspawn skull'?" Ayla grinned in response, closing her hand on one of her daggers as she carefully watched for any signs of attack.
"Many people go about pretending to be Grey Wardens, do they?" Aedan asked dryly, an edge of exasperation in his tone.
The elf stared at him for a long moment before she finally relaxed her stance, waving to the elves behind her who lowered their bows. Ayla released her grip on her dagger as she heard the other elves doing the same. "No, that's true. Perhaps I shall let the keeper decide for himself. In the camp, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself and remember that our arrows are still trained on you."
"Thank you," Aedan began, but the elf had already turned around and begun walking down the path, gesturing for them to follow her. Shrugging, Aedan followed after her and the other elves, while Ayla and the rest followed him.
She led them on a path that wound through the trees for a time before it came to a far more open space, where trees were interspersed with what looked like ruins. Pillars, statues and other stone structures were visible throughout the clearing, along with the trees. There were also several cloth-covered wagons that somewhat resembled ships throughout the area, each with a campfire and a few elves in front of it.
As the elf lead them deeper into the encampment, they passed several other elves, most of whom bore leather armor and weapons, particularly bows. Only a few of the elves aside from the children were dressed in ordinary clothes. Though none of the elves were overtly hostile, Ayla could feel the suspicious stares and hear the whispers that followed them through camp. She also noted that several of the female elves wore armor similar to the woman who guided them; skirted leather armor rather like her own, except it left their midriffs bare. She wasn't sure how that was any more practical than her tunic, but they did look very easy to move in. She might have to look into buying a set later.
Finally, the woman stopped in front of the largest of the wagons, where a tall, bald elf in gold and silver robes stood. He bore a twisted staff on his back, and his face was covered with an odd tattoo that resembled a tree covering most of the upper half of his face. He looked up at the group as they approached. "Hmm. I see we have guests. Who are these strangers, Mithra? I have precious little patience and less time to spend on outsiders today."
The female elf bowed. "They claim to be Grey Wardens and wish to speak to the clan. I thought it best to leave the decision to you."
He nodded, closely studying each and every one of them. As his eyes passed over Ayla, she frowned. She had an uneasy feeling about him, which none of the other elves had given her so far. She couldn't quite place just what it was, though. "That was wise of you. Ma serannas, Mithra, you may return to your post," he dismissed the female elf.
"Ma nuvenin, Keeper," she replied before heading back the way she had come, with the other two in tow.
He turned back to their group, addressing Aedan who stood out in front. "Now, allow to me to introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the keeper of this clan, its guide and preserver of our ancient lore. And you are?"
Aedan bowed to him even as he had the first elf as he replied, "My name is Aedan, a pleasure to meet you. I am a Grey Warden and these are my companions. Alistair is also a Grey Warden; the other three, Ayla, Morrigan, and Zevran, are aiding us in fighting the Blight." He gestured to each of the others in turn; Ayla bowed at her introduction, as did everyone else but Morrigan.
Zathrian's eyebrows rose as he watched them. "Manners? From a shemlen? Interesting. What might be your mission here? Have you come to spread news of the Blight? I had already sensed the corruption spreading in the south. The existence of the Blight is not news to me." He looked around the camp, frowning. "I would have taken the clan north by now, had we the ability to move. Sadly, as you can see, we do not."
Ayla could better see from where they stood now that there were several cots and pallets set up in front of the wagons off to their left, each filled with an elf. Though she suspected the others couldn't hear from this distance, the elves were all moaning in pain; from what, she didn't know.
Alistair followed her gaze, noticing the injured elves as well. "Yes, it seems like you have had your own troubles. What are the odds?" he remarked wryly. Ayla had to bite her lip to keep from laughing, inappropriate as it was; it was true that everywhere they went, even though they were searching for help themselves, they could not gain aid without first assisting everyone. She was guessing it was becoming a source of much frustration for both Aedan and Alistair, although personally she was kind of enjoying it. It had been a long time since she had felt so needed and useful.
Ignoring Alistair's remark, Zathrian kept his attention fixed on Aedan as he continued, "I imagine you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago. Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made. This will require some . . . explanation. Please, follow me." He gestured for them to follow as he headed in the direction of the cots.
As they got closer to the cots, Ayla could more clearly hear the fact that the elves were moaning and crying out in pain, as well as thrashing about on their cots. Even more disturbing was the fact that they were all covered in blood, and Ayla could tell that they were no longer quite the same as the other elves. They were carrying that odd scent she'd picked up upon entering the forest; they were close to becoming something else, something that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and her instincts scream in protest. She instinctively reached for Alistair's hand; just touching it, even with his gauntlet on, made her somehow feel safer, especially when he squeezed her hand gently and smiled reassuringly down at her before turning back to the elves.
Zathrian stopped at the edge of the cots, watching the two elves that were scurrying amongst the injured, tending to them. He turned back to Aedan, who was studying the scene with a furrowed brow. "The clan came to the Brecilian Forest one month ago, as is our custom when we enter this part of Ferelden. We are always wary of the dangers in the forest, but we did not expect the werewolves would be lying in wait for us. They . . . ambushed us, and though we drove the beasts back, much damage was done. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak." He gestured needlessly at the makeshift infirmary before continuing, "The Blight's evil must be stopped, but we are in no position to uphold our obligations. I am truly sorry."
Ayla watched Aedan as the crease in his brow got more pronounced; she knew this wasn't what he had wanted to hear. Finally, he turned to Zathrian, asking, "Is there no way to help your men?"
"The affliction is a curse that runs rampant in their blood, bringing great agony and then ultimately either death or a transformation into something monstrous." Zathrian hesitated, watching Aedan closely before finishing, "The only thing that could help them must come from the source of the curse itself, and that . . . that would be no trivial task to retrieve."
Aedan looked to each of them in turn, starting with Alistair, who nodded, answering the unspoken question immediately. Though Ayla still had a bad feeling about the elves' oncoming transformation in general - what exactly were werewolves, after all? - and Zathrian in particular, she nodded too. They couldn't leave things as they were, especially not when they needed the elves' help. Morrigan merely sighed audibly, and Zevran shrugged indifferently. Aedan turned to Zathrian. "We are good at non-trivial tasks. We will help your clan however we can. What is it that we need to do?"
Zathrian looked both surprised and relieved as he answered, "Within the Brecilian Forest dwells a great wolf – we call him Witherfang. It was within him that the curse originated, and through his blood that it has been spread. If he is killed and his heart brought to me, perhaps I could destroy the curse, but this task has proven too dangerous for us. I sent some hunters into the forest a week ago, but they have not returned. I cannot risk any more of my clan."
Aedan nodded. "We will find this Witherfang for you, then, and hope that by doing so, we can help you to break the curse."
Zathrian began to head back in the direction of his wagon, and they followed as he stated, "I must warn you that more than werewolves lurk in the Brecilian Forest. It has a history full of carnage and murder, you see. Where there is so much death, the Veil separating the spirit realm from our own becomes thin, allowing spirits to possess things living or dead. But if you can indeed help . . . then I wish you luck." He stopped at the wagon, turning to look at them with a clear expression of dismissal.
"Actually, I do have some questions before we leave," Aedan responded.
Zathrian frowned. "Make them quick, if you please. I have much to do, here. My apprentice, Lanaya, or Sarel, the clan's storyteller, could provide you with answers just as easily."
"Tell me more about this curse the hunters suffer from. Can you offer any specific details?" Ayla thought it was quite a fair question for Aedan to ask, given that Zathrian hadn't offered much of an explanation, but Zathrian's frown deepened as he met Aedan's questioning stare.
He shrugged dismissively. "There is not much to say. It stemmed originally from Witherfang, but now any werewolf may infect someone with it."
"So if a werewolf bites one of us, then we will become infected?" Aedan asked thoughtfully.
"It is possible, but not guaranteed. The only way to protect against the curse is not to be bitten," Zathrian replied.
Aedan then asked the question that was most plaguing Ayla's curiosity. "How did this curse start?"
Zathrian turned away for a moment, gathering some herbs from a chest behind him before answering curtly, "That is a long tale I do not have time to tell. Ask Sarel about it, if you wish. You may also want to keep watch for the white wolves; they are the eyes and ears of Witherfang in the forest. Now I really must return to caring for my people. Creators' speed on your way." With that, he headed back to the injured elves without a backwards glance.
Aedan turned back to the rest of them, frowning. "I think we need a little more information before we proceed. It will be faster if we split up; Alistair, why don't you and Ayla go question this Lanaya while the rest of us speak to this Sarel? See what you can find out about the Dalish and the curse in particular."
Alistair nodded. "Of course." As Aedan turned and began heading to a nearby group of elves, presumably to find out where Sarel was, he turned to Ayla. "Is something bothering you?" he asked quietly.
She shrugged, unexpectedly warmed by the concern in his hazel eyes. "I forgot to mention it before, but one of the other side effects shifters have is an animal's instinct for danger. And it's been giving me a bad feeling about this . . . curse of theirs."
He grinned crookedly. "Would it help if I told you I had the exact same bad feeling?"
She couldn't help smiling in response. "Not really, no, but thanks anyway. I know we need to do this, either way, so let's find this apprentice of Zathrian's. I think that might be her over there."
She pointed to another wagon several yards away, where a young elf woman in similar gold and silver robes to Zathrian's was grinding herbs in a bowl. Alistair nodded and the two made their way over to her.
After they had introduced themselves, and found out she was indeed Zathrian's apprentice, or First, as she called herself, Alistair began to question her about the Dalish and their current circumstances. Ayla was content to stand back and let him direct the conversation, instead watching Lanaya's reactions and trying to get a feel for the woman.
The more she watched as Lanaya and Alistair spoke, the more she felt that Lanaya, at least, was trustworthy. Whatever it was that made her uneasy about Zathrian was not shared by his foremost assistant. She was also enjoying watching how well Alistair was doing with her; he was asking all the right questions, and answering all the questions the curious Lanaya had in a skilful manner.
She wondered why it was that he'd felt he needed to pass leadership over to Aedan. As far as she could see, he would make just as good a leader as Aedan would. He had all the right instincts, and as long as someone else had put him in charge of something, he didn't seem to have a problem following through. He also had a good strategic sense on the battlefield. Was it just a lack of confidence in his own abilities? She'd have to help him work on that, she decided. There was no reason he couldn't be an excellent leader himself one day.
Once he'd wrapped up the conversation with Lanaya, he turned to Ayla. "Let's go find Aedan, see if he's ready to move on."
She nodded, and they headed over to the fire that Aedan and the others had gone to earlier. They could see in the distance that he was still there; clearly Sarel had been among those elves. As they got closer, Ayla could see that Aedan and the others had seated themselves on logs next to a middle-aged male elf, listening as he explained aspects of the curse to them.
She and Alistair stopped behind the log where the others were sitting, standing and listening to the elf's explanations. Ayla was only half listening as she studied each of the elves at the fire in turn, until she heard the storyteller conclude with, "I would rather die than become a ravening, soulless beast. Wouldn't you?"
"What?!" Ayla exclaimed, fury shooting through her before she'd had a chance to think logically about the conversation. She started forward as everyone turned to look at her, but she'd only taken a step when Alistair's arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her back.
"Relax," he whispered in her ear. "He wasn't talking about you."
"I-I know that," she whispered back. But of course she hadn't; she was a little ashamed that she'd allowed herself to have such a knee-jerk reaction to what was being said about these werewolves. For all she knew, they were nothing like her and the other shifters back home; they might truly be uncontrollable, mindless beasts. Yet she hadn't been able to help the instant fury that had poured through her. What was also a little disturbing was that Alistair had understood so quickly what she was angry about. Did he already know her so well?
"Sorry, it was just a misunderstanding." Alistair smiled at the elves as he towed Ayla away. "We'll just wait over here."
"Thank you," Ayla said quietly when they were out of earshot of the others. He'd let go of her and she turned to face him, flushing with embarrassment as she met his eyes. "I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry. I just heard what he said, and I'm so used to those sort of comments being made about me or the people I care about that I just reacted without . . . realizing."
He smiled gently. "Don't worry about it, I understand. I don't mind having an excuse to touch you, anyway." He leered exaggeratedly at her, waggling his eyebrows.
She grinned, appreciating the fact that he was trying to distract her even as she was disturbed by how well he did understand. "You don't need an excuse to touch me, you know."
"Oh?" His eyes darkened as he closed the distance between them, settling his hands on her hips and pulling her closer. "Does that mean I can do it whenever I like?"
She twined her arms around his neck, pressing herself even closer. "Absolutely," she breathed, about to pull his lips down to hers when she heard Morrigan say from behind them, "Must you two do that? You are making me ill."
"Two birds with one stone," Alistair retorted, but he sighed and pulled away, much to Ayla's disappointment. "What did you find out?" he asked Aedan.
"Not much," Aedan shrugged. "The Veil to the Fade is torn in the forest, so there's apparently a lot more to watch out for besides just the werewolves. But nothing much useful about the curse itself, other than the fact that it's supposedly caused by a spirit. What about you?"
Alistair shook his head. "Lanaya didn't seem to know much about the curse either. What do you want to do?"
"We don't have a choice, we have to go ahead with breaking this curse if we want their help," Aedan answered. "I'd prefer if we knew more, but there's not much to go on."
Ayla frowned. "I have a bad feeling about Zathrian. I cannot place why, and I don't feel that way about any of the others, but he makes me uneasy."
"It is likely because he is lying, my dear," Zevran supplied. "He knows more about the curse than he is telling us, and it is not anything good."
Ayla looked at him, surprised. "How do you know that?"
He gave her a roguish grin. "I am an assassin, after all. I would not have lasted long if I could not tell when someone was lying or a danger to me."
Morrigan snorted. "Really? So you are aware then that I will kill you if you ever attempt to touch me?"
Zevran winked at her. "Of course I am, my lovely witch. That does not make the prospect any less appealing."
Morrigan rolled her eyes as Aedan interrupted, "Getting back to the issue at hand, whether or not Zathrian's lying, the decision of whether to uphold the treaty lies with him. We have to remain in his good graces – which means doing as he's asked. We might as well start out now, if no one has any further objections. We'll pick up a few more supplies on the way out – an elf named Varathorn should apparently have what we need."
Everyone nodded in agreement, and they set out to find Varathorn's wagon before leaving camp. As they were walking, Alistair looked over at Ayla. "What would happen to you if a werewolf bit you? Would there be some sort of reaction with your abilities?"
"I don't know," Ayla replied slowly, thinking it over. "I'm still not entirely sure what a werewolf is – they seem to be similar to shapeshifters, but not exactly the same. It could be that I would react the same as anyone else – or it might war with my animal half and either the panther would win or the struggle would . . . well, kill me, I suppose."
Alistair grabbed her arm, and they stopped walking as she looked up at him in surprise. She could see both concern and an undertone of fear lurking in his eyes. "Promise me you'll be careful for once. If we run into werewolves, keep behind me. Don't let them bite you."
She scoffed and shook her head, pulling away from him to catch up with the others. She was irritated that he would ask her that, even as she was touched that he was worried. Why did she have to be so split in her feelings for him? "So I am just supposed to let you be bit instead?"
He caught up with her as she reached the others. "Yes," he said firmly. "There will be less immediate danger for me. Please, just . . . promise me you'll try."
She sighed, realizing by the look on his face that he wasn't about to let it go. "I cannot promise that I will not engage them directly, but I will try my best not to get anywhere near their mouth. That's the best I can do."
He nodded slowly, looking somewhat appeased if not totally relieved. "All right."
They reached Varathorn's wagon shortly after that, and Aedan proceeded to trade for some more supplies, including more potions, more food, more herbs for Morrigan to make potions, and even a bow and arrow for Zevran, who claimed to be decently skilled at archery as well as his "other skills" as he put it. Once they were done, they headed for the path leading out of the camp deeper into the forest.
They had only travelled away from the camp for about half an hour, with the smell of the werewolves getting ever stronger, when Ayla heard the sound of crashing through the trees just before she heard a howl. "They're coming!" She drew her swords, alarmed at how fast she could hear them approaching; they might even be faster than her.
Just as everyone drew their weapons and readied themselves, three werewolves and as many regular wolves burst over the ridge ahead of them. The werewolves attacked without hesitation, and though Ayla could faintly smell something human in them, it was largely overwhelmed by the scent of the wolf. They were not like regular wolves, however, but were huge beasts, running on their hind legs as though they were human, seeming to be some twisted form of something half human, half wolf. Even their heads were shaped differently from a wolf's, their muzzles shorter, though no less lethal. They were truly nothing like herself or the other shifters. That would make it easier for her, if she could think of them as abominations, like those things in the Circle tower.
Zevran began firing arrows, apparently preferring to stay back from the teeth, while Aedan and Alistair moved in front of the others, meeting two of the werewolves directly. The third stumbled back from a bolt sent by Morrigan.
Ayla engaged one of the wolves that came rushing forward, blocking its lunge with one sword while stabbing the other into its side. As the wolf halted its attack and whimpered in pain, she hacked off its head with her other sword, turning just in time to meet an attack from another wolf.
She was in the middle of the battle with that wolf, having a little more trouble dispatching it, as it was larger and faster than the previous one, when she heard one of the werewolves approaching her from behind. She knew she wasn't going to be able to turn in time to meet it. Just as she was bracing herself for the worst, while trying to block the teeth from the front, she heard the sound of clanking armor behind her, then the sound of something striking metal.
She finished off the wolf she was attacking as fast as possible and whirled around, in time to see Alistair running the werewolf through with his sword. He bashed it in the head with his shield before delivering a finishing stroke to its neck. He turned to look at her, and she noticed with relief that he was unhurt, though his shield was severely dented. The others all seemed fine as well; the attacking wolves and werewolves were all lying dead around them.
Sudden, unreasonable fury rushed through her on the heels of her relief. "Just what did you think you were doing, throwing yourself in harm's way like that?" she snapped.
Alistair reeled back, obviously surprised, before his mouth tightened with his own anger. "I was keeping you from being bitten by a werewolf! I thought we discussed this?"
She scowled. "I agreed to try not to engage them directly. I did not say you should throw yourself between me and a werewolf. There is no need for you to get yourself hurt trying to protect me!"
"Yes, there is!" He threw up his hands in obvious frustration. "I care about you, and if you're about to get mauled by a werewolf, I'm going to step in! Besides, I didn't get myself hurt!"
She folded her arms and glared at him, even as she felt an inexplicably warm rush from his words. He cared about her? No, she didn't want him to, just as she didn't want to care about him. "Only because you were lucky! Just stay out of it next time!"
"No." He glared right back at her, standing his ground, and damn if she didn't find that appealing. "I won't. It makes more sense for me to get bit than it does you. You have a chance of dying right away, where the worst that will happen to me is to suffer from that curse until we're able to lift it. I will not let you get bit if I can stop it."
Aedan came up next to Alistair. "He does have a point, you know, Ayla. We don't know what would happen to you if you got bit. You're in more danger than the rest of us."
"Yes, surprisingly enough, he is actually making sense for once," Morrigan observed. "Whereas you are not."
"Thanks so much," Alistair said dryly.
"Indeed," Zevran agreed. "Why would you wish for your beautiful skin to be marred by bites if it can be avoided? Your Warden has that heavy armor to protect him, after all."
Ayla sighed, deflating. She knew she was being unreasonable; she just didn't know exactly why she was. Just the thought of Alistair being in harm's way for her sake was unthinkable; why, she didn't understand, and that made her angry. But she knew it made the most sense for him to do that, especially since everyone was agreeing with him.
She threw up her hands in defeat. "Fine, you're right, I'm sorry! I will allow you to protect me." When he started to smile, she pointed a finger sternly at him. "Only from the werewolves, you understand? If you try to do it in any other battle where our danger is equal, I won't forgive you."
He shook his head, but he was still smiling as he gave her a mock bow. "If you say so, my lady, I will do as you wish."
"Let's move on now, shall we?" Aedan gestured to the path ahead of them. "I doubt we will find this Witherfang before dark, so we need to find somewhere relatively safe to set up camp before then."
They nodded, and soon were continuing on their way through the forest. This area of the forest was full of hills and cliffs as well as trees, and several small streams crossed their path from time to time, with little wooden bridges built over them. Ayla could hear a waterfall in the distance as well. Unfortunately, all the rushing water was making it more difficult for her to discern other noises, and the forest smelled so strongly of werewolf, it was hard for her to pick out one scent from the next. Anything that limited her abilities always made her distinctly uncomfortable; she could only hope that nothing bad happened because of it.
About a couple of hours before sunset, they came around a bend in the path and saw the waterfall ahead. At the base of the waterfall was a small island, ringed by a stream. Another bridge led over to it from the path they were on. As they got closer, they saw three werewolves come running towards it from the other direction. They all tensed up, waiting for the attack; but this time, the werewolves merely stopped on the island, facing them.
"It's like they're . . . waiting for us to come and talk to them," Ayla said slowly, one hand on one of her swords as they all stared at the werewolves.
"It does look that way," Aedan agreed. "I suppose we might as well confront them; that island is the only way forward."
Cautiously, they all moved towards the island, Aedan in the lead. He crossed over to the island first, followed by Alistair, then Ayla, Morrigan, and Zevran. Ayla noticed that Alistair made sure to stay between her and the werewolves, though the werewolves made no move to attack as Aedan stopped in front of them.
One of the werewolves was standing a little ahead of the other two, and Ayla was shocked when it suddenly spoke, in a strangely garbled voice, its words occasionally interspersed with growling. "The watch-wolves have spoken truly, my brothers and sisters. The Dalish send a human, of all things, to repay for us for our attack, to put us in our place. What bitter irony." The werewolf sniffed the air, then looked over Alistair's shoulder, as it was a good foot taller than him, locking eyes with Ayla. "And someone who is both human and not; even more ironic."
"You speak?" Aedan asked, sounding as equally shocked as Ayla felt. These werewolves, she noticed suddenly, smelled more human than the others. She wasn't so sure if she wanted to fight them anymore, as Aedan continued, "I thought werewolves were savage beasts."
"We are beasts, but we are no longer simple and mindless. Let that thought chill your spine," the lead werewolf snarled at them, though it still made no move to attack. "You speak to Swiftrunner. I lead my cursed brothers and sisters. Turn back now, go back to the Dalish and tell them that you have failed. Tell them we will gladly watch them suffer the same curse we have suffered for too long. We will watch them pay!"
Aedan frowned thoughtfully, crossing his arms. "You sound as if you hate the Dalish a great deal. What exactly happened?"
"That we do. How dare they send you here against us! Turn and leave, while you still have the chance!" Swiftrunner was shouting now, and his anger was putting Ayla on edge.
She stepped forward next to Alistair. "Please, let us talk. I . . . know how you feel, to be something other than human, to have others view you as a monster."
Swiftrunner turned his gaze to her, even as Alistair put an arm out in front of her, throwing her an anxious look. "Do you really understand? You might be similar to us, but you can remain in your own form if you wish. We are cursed to remain in this body, unable to return to our own forms. You who can hide the beast can never truly understand us."
Maybe he was right and she didn't truly understand, Ayla thought. How long had she been able to hide her animal half from Alistair and the others, after all? It was likely true that she would never fully be able to understand how it felt to be unable to appear as a human even if she wanted to. "Still, I –" she hesitated, unsure of exactly what to say to appease the werewolves.
"Yes, we would prefer to talk to you," Aedan agreed, stepping forward, nodding to Ayla almost imperceptibly. "We mean you no harm as long as we can come to an agreement."
Swiftrunner snapped his gaze back to Aedan. "Was it not Zathrian who sent you? He wishes only our destruction, never to talk!"
"We agreed to assist Zathrian, yes," Aedan said carefully. "But we are willing to negotiate how we assist him. Is there no way this can be resolved peacefully?"
"The time for peace is long past," Swiftrunner growled, shaking his head. "There will be no peace between the elves and we who are cursed."
"But why can't there be?" Ayla asked desperately. She was certain now; she didn't want to fight them. It would be like fighting her fellow Order members. "If you have overcome your nature this much, can you not make peace with them, find some way to resolve this?"
"You know nothing, do you? Nothing of us and even less of those you serve," Swiftrunner growled dismissively. "You are all fools, and we are done talking. Run from the forest while you can. Run to the Dalish and tell them they are doomed."
Aedan shook his head slowly, regretfully. "While we may not wish to fight, we have no choice but to go on. We cannot retreat."
Ayla sighed. She knew that Aedan and Alistair desperately needed the help of the Dalish in the Blight, and so they would go on, and keep fighting the werewolves if need be. While she might not wish to fight the werewolves, she could not let anything happen to any of these people she had come to know here, especially not Alistair, for reasons she refused to examine. She met Swiftrunner's eyes. "I am sorry, I do not wish harm to any of you, but if they are not backing down, I cannot either. I will do whatever I have to."
She saw understanding in Swiftrunner's brown eyes as he dipped his muzzle in acknowledgment. "I do not wish to fight you, either, but we cannot trust you." He turned back to the other werewolves. "Come, brothers and sisters, let us retreat. The forest has eyes and ears of its own, and it will deal with intruders as it always has."
Without further discussion, the three werewolves turned and fled back the way they had come. Ayla watched them leave, knowing that soon, they would have no choice but to confront them again, as much as she might wish otherwise.