Author's Note: Like I mentioned in the last chapter, there's a companion piece to this section of the story called Honeysuckle & Pine, that covers a bit of Alistair's point of view from then. Also, a big Big BIG thank you to all of you reviewing! I can't tell you how awesome it is to read your comments, especially since a lot of you are from all over the world. It's just the coolest thing. Anywho, thanks to those following along, you really make this worth writing!

Chapter 40 - There's Strange Things in These Woods

Zevran's prediction back at Redcliffe about the Dalish ended up being absolutely correct. They were barely an hour down the passage that led into the depths of the Brecilian Forest when Serena heard shuffling in the woods around them. As she had requested, Zevran walked at her side in front of the wagon, his amber eyes alert.

"They probably have their archers trained on us as we speak, Serena," he said slowly. "Do not make any sudden movements. Your skin is much too pretty for arrows to pierce it." Serena held up a hand to halt the wagon, Peanut standing at alert beside her. As the wagon came to a stop, three of the Dalish elves materialized in front of them from the woods.

"Stop right there, outsider. The Dalish have camped in this spot." The speaker was a lovely young blonde, with tattoos much like Zevran's marking her face in an intrigue pattern. Her voice rang with the sound of authority, someone who was obviously used to being listened to. "I suggest you go elsewhere, and quickly."

"Good day, miss," Serena said, bowing her head to the elves. "We came here looking for a Dalish clan, in fact." She held out her hands, her daggers remaining at her belt. "We mean you no harm."

"I find that hard to believe," the blonde elf replied, sizing Serena and her companions up. She noticed her eyes paused on Zevran briefly. "What business could we Dalish possibly have with a group like yours?"

Serena straightened her shoulders, summoning all the noble grace she could muster. "I am a Grey Warden, and we seek your leader to discuss the treaty the Dalish signed long ago to assist us in fighting the Blight."

"A Grey Warden?" The woman exchanged glances with her two fellows, and something silent seemed to pass between them before she nodded. "Right, well, I will leave it to the keeper to decide the importance of your business then. In the camp, I suggest you keep your hands to yourself and remember that our arrows are still trained on you." She waved a delicate hand. "Follow me."

They walked for a good twenty minutes until they began to see signs of the Dalish camp. Tents and small bungalows were set up and Serena saw many of the elves had paused whatever they had been doing to stare at their little procession. Small elvish children clung to their mother's, their eyes wide and curious. Near the pocket of tents, Serena saw many elves laid out on small cots, being tended to by others.

The blonde led Serena and the others to a pair of elves, an older bald man and a young woman, bowing her head to both.

"I see we have guests," the man said, one of his eyebrows arching. His voice was deep and almost melodious, and he too had the delicate facial tattoos. "Who are these strangers, Mithra? I have precious little patience and less time to spend on outsiders today."

"I understand, but this one claims to be a Grey Warden," the blonde, Mithra, replied. "They are looking for help to fight the Blight." She glanced to the south, and Serena could almost see her worry creep up to her large dark eyes.

"Ah, of course." The man exchanged a quick glance with the young elven woman at his side before returning his gaze to the elven archer. "Ma serannas, Mithra, you may return to your post."

"Ma nuvein, Keeper," Mithra replied, bowing her head again. She nodded to her fellows and they quickly disappeared back into the forest.

"Now, allow me to introduce myself. I am Zathrian, the keeper of this clan, its guide and preserver of our ancient lore." The bald man smiled softly. "And you are?"

"My name is Serena, a pleasure to meet you." She bowed her head and curtsied to the man. She waved a hand to the people standing nearest her. "These are my companions, Zevran, Alistair, Sten, and Leliana. The rest of my party is inside our wagon, so you know."

"Manners? From a shemlen? Interesting." The elf raised his eyebrow at her again, the same queer smile on his lips. Serena hoped that word, shemlen, meant the same as outsider and not... something worse. "What might be your mission here? Mithra mentioned the Blight. I had already sensed the corruption spreading in the south..." He sighed, his large eyes looking both tired and sad. "I would have taken the clan north by now, had we the ability to move. Sadly, as you can see, we do not."

"Yes, it seems like you have had your own troubles..." Alistair said, smiling crookedly. "What are the odds?"

"I imagine you are here regarding the treaty we signed centuries ago," Zathrian continued. "Unfortunately, we may not be able to live up to the promise we made. This will require some... explanation. Please, follow me." Serena halted the wagon where it was and motioned for her fellows to follow her with Zathrian.

"The clan came to the Brecilian Forest one month ago, as is our custom when we enter this part of Ferelden." The bald elf led them through the camp, past the collection of cots that Serena had noticed coming in. Now close up, Serena could see the elves writhing in pain, many of them covered in what looked like deep scratches and bite marks.

"We are always wary of the dangers in the forest, but we did not expect the werewolves would be lying in wait for us."

Serena stared. "I'm sorry, did you say werewolves?" She exchanged wide eyed glances with Alistair, mouthing the word 'werewolves?' to him. He shook his head, shrugging helplessly.

"They... ambushed us, and though we drove the beasts back, much damage was done. Many of our warriors lie dying as we speak." Zathrian gazed at the cots, his almost reddish eyes were burning with a deep violence. "Even with all our magic and healing skill, we will eventually be forced to slay our brethren to prevent them from becoming beasts."

"The Blight's evil must be stopped, but we are in no position to uphold our obligations. I am truly sorry."

Serena nodded, not quite ready to take no for an answer. Her mind briefly flashed back to Highever, and she remembered the tapestries that hung in her family's hall. The Couslands had become Teyrns by banding people together to fight werewolves that stalked the coastlands. She could do this. It was in her blood to do this.

"Then I would like to know what we can do to help," Serena replied steadily. She could almost hear Sten rolling his eyes from behind her and had her suspicions confirmed when she heard his boots crunching as he walked back to the wagon.

The elven keeper narrowed his eyes, shrugging slightly. "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. 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."

"Well, then you are lucky my companions and I are experts at non-trivial tasks." Serena heard Zevran snort at her quip and she felt a corner of her mouth quirk up. She had a feeling after their experiences at Redcliffe and the Circle Tower, helping people do these supposed non-trivial tasks was going to be the norm for awhile.

"Alright, well... 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." Zathrian sighed, peering at the injured warriors on the cots. "I sent some hunters into the forest a week ago, but they have not returned. I cannot risk any more of my clan."

"So we find this great wolf, take his heart, return to you," Serena replied. She glanced at her companions, shrugging. "I think we can handle that."

"I must warn you that more than werewolves lurk in these woods. 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." The elven leader gazed out into the forest beyond, his big eyes looking cold and distant. Serena couldn't help the unease that settled in her stomach, looking at the man. He was downright creepy sometimes. "The Forest has a history full of carnage and murder, you see."

Serena rolled her eyes. Did this man want their help or not? Was he trying to put them off? "Zathrian, I daresay there isn't a corner of Ferelden now that can't claim the same thing."

"Mmm, reminds me of sweet Antiva City," Zevran added. "The blood, the violence..." He sighed fondly. "Now if you could only find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder, and a corrupt politician, I would really think I was back home."

"If you can help us, it would certainly enable us to uphold our treaty with the Grey Wardens," the bald elf replied, his eyes watching Zevran curiously.

"Well, it looks like we don't really have a choice then, do we?" Alistair murmured.

"Do you know how to find this Witherfang?" Serena asked.

"Look for the white wolves," Zathrian answered. "They are his eyes and ears in the forest. I'm afraid there is not much to say... it stemmed originally from Witherfang, but now any werewolf may infect someone with it."

"Do you know how it works? Is it by scratch, by bite..? If any of us are bitten, will we turn as well?" More than anything, Serena wanted to know what kind of danger she was asking her friends to willing walk into.

"It is possible, but not guaranteed. The only way to protect against the curse is not to be bitten." The keeper sighed. "I apologize, but there is much I need to tend to. If you need any more questions answered, my apprentice, Lanaya, can help you." He gestured to the pretty elven women standing nearby, then inclined his head. "Creators' speed on your way. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Of course, uh, thank you," Serena said, curtsying again. What a strange man, she thought, watching the elf stride towards one of their healers. She hoped the rest of the clan would be easier to read than their leader was. And who was this Creator? Was that the Dalish god? She would have to remember to ask Leliana about it later and see if she knew.

After speaking with Lanaya, Zathrian's apprentice, who she found out is really called a First, Serena headed back to Bodahn's wagon to explain everything she'd learned to the rest of her companions. They gathered around her in a loose circle as Serena stroked Peanut's fur soothingly, his tiny ears flicking happily.

"So, a minor setback, but we're so used to those by now, I'm not even sure werewolves even count as a distraction," Serena began, keeping her voice light. "The good news is-"

"Did you say werewolves?" Morrigan interrupted. "This forest is infested with werewolves?"

"And a bunch of other nasty things, I imagine," Alistair added, grinning at Morrigan. "Does that frighten you?"

"Hardly," the witch drawled, pulling her staff to lean on it. "I'll remind you I lived my entire life in the Wilds, if you can think that far back. I know it was just a few weeks ago we were there..."

"You were saying Serena?" Leliana asked, rolling her eyes. "The good news..."

"Right, so, the good news is Zathrian, their keeper... leader... fellow, will uphold the Grey Warden treaties once we deal with this... werewolf problem. I think as long as we're careful, we should be able to deal with this relatively swiftly."

"Just don't get bitten," Alistair said. "Otherwise you have only a few days until you're all mad and hairy."

"And how would we even tell if you were bitten, Alistair?" Morrigan taunted.

"Oh, I'd drool a bit more, I suppose," the former templar replied, eyeing Morrigan with distaste. "Anyway, we're to go into the forest, find this head wolf-"

"Witherfang," said Leliana. "I'm guessing he would be white, since his emissaries are also white wolves."

"And bring his heart back to Zathrian, so he can try to break the curse," Serena finished. "Now that I'm saying it out loud, it really sounds stupid, doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does," Sten rumbled.

Zevran sighed. "It does sound a bit like an Antivan adventure story one of the whores once read to me..."

"But regardless, that's the plan." Serena counted off on her fingers. "Find the wolf, get his heart, come back here, get their promise to help with the Blight. Then we're back on the road to Denerim by tomorrow."

"You know it won't be that easy, Warden," Wynne said cautiously. "It is never that easy."

"I know, but a girl can dream." Serena sighed wistfully. "So, I meant to ask if all of you wanted to come along. I doubt we'd need everybody's help, but I would like to take this werewolf curse seriously, and not risk more of you than we have to. Alistair, I'm sorry, but I have to ask you to go." She turned to her fellow Grey Warden, tapping her forehead meaningfully. "I'm sure you sensed them as we came in here, just faintly."

"Yes, I was going to mention that to you, actually," Alistair said, glancing at the nearby trees. "It's not a heavy presence, but it's still out there. Of course, I'll come along."

Sten stepped forward from the group, his hand on his sword. "I have not killed anything in the better part of a day. I am going."

"I love how one day is your limit on waiting before you need to kill something. How you ever managed in that cage for twenty days..." Serena rolled her eyes. "Right, so-"

"I'm coming," the dark haired witch said. "I have... read things about these woods. I would like to see if any of the legends hold true."

"Maybe this would go faster if I asked if anyone wants to stay behind?" Serena looked at each of her companions in turn, her question hanging in the air. "All right, then. Off we go, and stick together. If the Dalish find these woods creepy, and they bloody live in them, then Maker only knows what we're going to find out there."

As the party left the main Dalish camp to move into the forest, they passed a sandy haired elven man who waved to them. "Andraran atish'an, stranger. I am Anthras. I apologize for accosting you like this, but I had heard from the others that you were planning to head into the forest to search for the wolves." He bowed his head. "I wonder if I may trouble you."

Serena paused, torn between wanting to get things done and not wanting to appear rude. The Dalish were suspicious enough of their group as it was. She motioned for the others to keep moving and that she would catch up. "I... of course. What I can I do for you?"

"My wife, Danyla, and I both fought the werewolves in the ambush. She was... injured so gravely the curse spread rapidly in her. Zathrian fought hard to ease her pain, but there was little he could do. And though he says that Danyla is dead... he will not let me see her... her body." Anthras sighed, his shoulders slumping in grief. "I am beginning to believe she became a werewolf, and that is being kept from me so I do not go chasing after her..."

"If I could just... know if Danyla is alive, or what happened to her... then I could be at peace."

"I'm... so sorry for your..." Serena pursed her lips, not quite knowing what to say to the grieving man. "I... I could see, while we're out there, if there's any... signs of her."

"You said her name is Danyla?" Alistair asked. Serena turned, not realizing he had stayed behind with her.

"Yes, thank you." Anthras reached out, grasping Serena and Alistair's hands lightly. "I would be immensely grateful for any news you could bring." He nodded to them, releasing their hands. With another nod, he turned and disappeared into his bungalow.

Serena sighed. "That poor man..." She felt Alistair grip her hand as they walked to catch up with the others and she was grateful for the feeling of stability he provided. "This is going to sound so silly, but do you think werewolves talk? I mean... they must, right?"

"In some limited capacity, I would imagine, yes." Alistair shrugged. "Otherwise, I don't know how we're supposed to recognize his wife, assuming she's gone hairy, over any of the others. Unless she's still wearing her party dress, of course."

"Speaking of party dresses, don't you owe me a dance?" Serena glanced sidelong at Alistair. "I seem to remember you saying in Ostagar something about the Remigold..."

"I could curse that memory of yours, Serena," Alistair sighed. "You know I left all my good dresses back at Redcliffe..."

"That's a pity, I know you can do some pretty masterful things with that body of yours when you want to..."

"Oh, stop. You're making my ears blush-"

"Oh! Do you see those?" Serena pulled away from him and jogged over to a large paddock. Inside were a small herd of almost deer-like creatures, but bigger and a grayish white, with huge twisting horns. Alistair came to stand beside her, noticing a few of the others had wandered back. "What are these?"

"I think they're called hallor, or halla?" Alistair eyed Serena. "I heard the elves carve their horns into those designs, for decoration."

"Why have we stopped again?" Morrigan stood nearby, her arms folded over her chest. "I don't suppose she found something shiny on the ground?"

"These... animals..." Serena stood on her toes, staring at the herd over the fence. "They're so beautiful."

"Hello, stranger. Can I help you?" Serena started at the sound, turning to the owner of the voice. An elven woman in bright yellow robes stood smiling at her.

"Good day... I'm Serena... I was just curious about your herd here... I've never seen anything like them before."

The woman nodded. "My name is Elora, I'm the master herder for the clan." She came to stand beside Serena and gazed out on the herd. "These are called halla. I care for them when we are not on the move." One of the halla came to the paddock fence and gently nuzzled Elora's hand. "Yes, my friend, we may be here for awhile." She turned back to Serena. "They are noble beasts, and they pull our aravel... what you call "landships"... as well as being our companions and guides."

"They're beautiful..." Serena smiled, watching the halla graze within the paddock. She felt something twitch at her senses, just beyond her field of awareness and she focused on the herd. "I... is there something wrong? With that one there? She seems... I don't know."

"I am surprised you sensed that, stran- Serena." Elora motioned to her, leading her into the paddock. One of the larger halla was standing off to the side, away from the others. "I fear she may have been bitten during the werewolf attack. I have tried speaking with her, but she is too agitated for me to understand." She stroked the halla gently, but it shook its head, pulling away. "The curse would not affect her as it would us, but it would still be lethal. And it may prove contagious to the other halla, as well."

"I can find no wound on her, but if she's truly ill, then... then I will have to put her out of her misery. For her sake as well as that of the others."

"I... could I look at her? Sometimes I have feelings about things." Serena slowly moved up to the animal, placing a careful hand on its side. A swirl of confused images flashed through her mind. The werewolves... they were much bigger than she was expecting, nearly twice her size in height, oh Maker... and one of the halla...

"She... she has a mate. One of the males..." Serena glanced up, her blue eyes snapping to one of the larger male halla. "He was bitten. It's why you have been unable to calm her. She... she worries about him."

"Oh, of course," Elora stroked the halla's muzzle. "Yes, girl, it will be alright, we will find a way to treat him." The elven woman turned back to Serena, smiling. "Ma serannas. You have a great gift, S-Serena." The elf said her name hesitantly, as if she was unused to addressing humans by their given names. "I have heard of humans who possess an ability, much like we elves, to be... attuned to the ways of the forest. If... if you'd like, perhaps you could come see me after you finish up in the forest... I would like to discuss it further with you."

"That would be lovely, I..." Serena glanced around quickly, slightly embarrassed. "I don't know too much about it, and to be able to speak with someone who has such experience..."

"Yes, absolutely. You can find me here when you return. Dareth shiral, Serena, I hope to see you soon."

"If you're done with fawning over the deer creatures..." Morrigan tapped her foot impatiently, her golden eyes were narrowed at Serena in annoyance. Serena sighed, waving to the elven woman as she joined with the others. "We aren't going to help every single person who stops us with a query, I hope?"

Serena snorted. "I'm sorry not everything interesting is an eight foot qunari you can, ahem, socialize with." Serena caught up with Alistair, grinning.

"'Tis not the same," Morrigan replied, her voice low.

"Yes, I know," Serena said, glancing at Sten. "The halla are actually cute."