Author's Note: Thanks to everyone for the kind reviews and for following along! This is my first published fic, and the feedback has just been astounding, really. Thank you all so much!

Chapter 42 - Talking Trees and Hermits

They stared down at the man in the basin, to whom the camp presumably belonged, as he flapped his arms and jumped from foot to foot, speaking loudly to... nobody. Serena exchanged glances with Zevran, her eyebrows in her hair.

"He's quite obviously mad, my dear, so do keep close." Zevran gripped Serena's hand as they snuck down the winding path leading into the basin. Clumps of leaves softened their footsteps as they neared the makeshift camp.

"No. No way are you two just going off like this." Alistair pulled gently at Serena's leathers, tugging the two rogues to a stop.

"I promise it is for a clandestine operation only, my friend; I hadn't even thought of stealing your young lady... until now." Zevran grinned, his voice a slow, seductive whisper.

"As if you could, elf," Alistair replied, rolling his eyes. "I'm coming with you, regardless, though." He glanced at Serena, shrugging. "The last time you two slipped off, you got a staff to the face courtesy of a blood mage. Anything at all could be down there. No way are you going without me."

Serena ran a hand over the area where the mage had struck her. "Hmm, you have an excellent point." She turned to Zevran. "Party of three, then."

The assassin laughed. "Ha, no complaints from me. I swing whichever way is simplest and most pleasurable."

"Is there ever a time when your mind isn't on sex, Zevran?" Serena whispered.

"Of course, sweet Warden. Sometimes I am asleep, or otherwise engaged in battle." Zevran grinned again, letting go of Serena's hand. "Come, daylight is wasting and I wish to get this cloak-and-dagger mission actually going somewhere." He led them down the path and into the small camp, where they looked around for the white haired man who'd been speaking to himself.

"Oh dear, oh dear. Not a werewolf, or a spirit, even... what are these woods coming to?"

"Oh, my goodness!" Serena spun around, the old man right behind her. "How did you…? Who are you?"

"Questions, questions, always questions," the hermit answered. He had a strange brusque voice, as if he was perpetually in a rush. "They say it was questions that made me mad; will it do the same for you? Ask a question and you'll get a question, but give an answer and you'll receive the same. Oh, I do so love to trade!"

"Right, so..." Serena paused, thinking hard. "I'm Serena."

The hermit laughed. "You are much smarter than you look, then. So, an answer, but to your own question... very clever, indeed. Let's see, let's see... what shall I ask?"

"That's a question, isn't it?" Alistair muttered.

"That's a question, too," Zevran added, exchanging grins with the former templar.

Serena bit her bottom lip, holding back a laugh. She turned back to the hermit. "Yes, well... Would you like to ask me a question?"

"I think it is your turn to ask, is it not?"

Serena rolled her eyes. "Then... who are you?"

"Who am I? Why do you want to know?" The hermit paced around the trio is a circle, his hands flexing rapidly. "Did they send you? Did they tell you to ask?"

"That's a lot of questions," Serena replied, smirking. "You better have some answers."

"Ahh! Damnation! Caught by my own rules!" The old man shook his head, nodding to himself. "Oh... they are tricky. Did they tell you to pretend to be an innocent stranger? Your disguise won't work. I can sense the magic in you. Like the Lady, you are."

"The Lady? Magic? Wait, wait, wait, I'm no mage!"

"Two questions, that means I get two answers."

"I... fine. I'm not a mage. And my name is Serena. Nobody sent me." She rolled her eyes. "That's three answers, so I get a question. Who is the Lady?"

"The Lady of the Forest. She commands the wolves. Filled with magic, and you are just like her." The hermit frowned, his pale eyes flicking over Serena. "You could be more, though, oh yes, much more. But for now, a question. Why are you here?"

"We're trying to get to the center of the forest," Serena answered. "Do you know how to enter?"

"Ah, ha ha, very good! I like you, forest girl." The hermit nodded inanely, dancing about. Serena glanced at her fellows and saw they were watching the man with great delight. "That is where the wolf men have their lair, but the trees will block the path. There's a way to fool the trees, of course. Trees are thick, wooden things, after all. Easily fooled if you know how."

"And I suppose you know how?" Alistair asked.

"I do, but I'm not telling," the hermit replied, his eyes dancing as much as his feet. "Is there another question you wanted to ask?"

"You said you like to trade, do you have anything besides words and questions?"

"Ha, ha! Indeed I do, forest girl, indeed I do! What would you like?"

Serena glanced around the camp, unsure of what to say. Behind the hermit, she saw Zevran shift slightly, his eyes going to a stump, on which rested an enormous acorn. "What about your nut there?"

"Yes, yes, I stole that from an oak tree, and it won't stop pestering me for it back!" The hermit picked up the acorn and tossed it from hand to hand, spinning it on one finger. "I told you the trees were easy to fool, especially big, talking, rhyming oak trees. Ha!"

Serena nodded to Zevran, a plan forming in her mind. "Well, do you want to trade or not?"

"This is very valuable, oh yes..." The old man eyed Serena warily, the pale orbs pausing on her knapsack. "What could you possibly have to trade me for it?"

"I... I have a very rare book, in fact," Serena replied, opening her pack. She moved slowly, to build up the suspense. "Do you like to read?"

"Another question! But of course I like to read!" The hermit bounced from foot to foot again, the acorn spinning on his finger, his game about questions and answers apparently forgotten in his excitement. "Oh yes, oh yes, it's been so long since I've had a new book to read. A book, eh? A book, a book. What sort of book?"

Serena pulled out the Dragons of Tevinter, holding it up to the old man. "So, we have a deal then."

"Yes, yes, it's been ages since I've seen a dragon, unless you count the one that sings in the south..." The hermit tossed the acorn in the air and Zevran caught it as Serena handed him the book. "Yes, this will make for good reading by the moonlight. Or it'll be better than using leaves. Yes, yes, yes." He put the book in his pocket and grinned at the trio. "Now, that's done. What else have you got on your agenda, hmm?"

Serena shrugged, as if she were simply mumbling to herself. "That talking tree... where might I find him, I wonder..."

"To the southwest of this very spot," the hermit replied, patting the book's outline in his pocket. "Yes, so large and it never shuts up, you can't miss it." He put out his hands, shooing the small group. "Off you go, then, yes, yes, forest girl. Go ask the tree some questions about your magic!"

"I don't have any-" Serena stopped, rolling her eyes. "Nevermind. Goodbye, ser." Serena waved to the boys and they left the camp, heading back up to where the rest of their companions sat.

"Two silvers it was a complete waste of time," Morrigan was saying to Leliana.

"Ha, keep your coin, Leli, we got an acorn!" Serena called, as Zevran spun the acorn on his finger in much the same manner as the hermit had.

"'Tis marvelous, really, how you manage day-to-day, Serena," Morrigan replied, rolling her golden eyes. "What with the lasting effects of that massive head wound of yours... Perhaps we should start leaving you in the wagon with the simple dwarven boy."

"No, no, I know how this sounds," Serena began, her hands out. "Just... trust me..."

"Tell me again this... plan, Serena," Morrigan drawled. Unusually, she was keeping pace at Serena's side near the front of their group as they headed southwest towards the tree. "How is an acorn going to get us to the wolves?"

"The hermit stole the acorn from this... talking tree. The trees are what are causing that magic fog. I'm assuming this tree really wants it's... baby acorn thing back, and if we give it to him, he owes us, right?" Serena glanced sidelong at the witch. "Right?"

"This is all working off the assumption that these... trees... think."

"The werewolves think, they can reason." Serena shrugged helplessly. "It's the best lead we've gotten."

"I still think you put too much stock in instinct alone," Morrigan replied. "One of these days, things aren't going to just magically work out." Serena glanced at her sharply.

"Do you sense magic in me?" she said quickly, her voice low. "The hermit... he said I have magic, but... you would have sensed it, right?"

Morrigan eyed Serena, her lips pursed. "You have something, but 'tis not magic, not in the way we mages control it. You are... connected, to the forest. To the animals. The wolf before, your flea-ridden mutt... these are not accidents." She noticed Serena's intense look and sighed. "Look, you are the first woman I have ever come across to have the ability. I have seen it before, in the Chasind men, but they are... practically barbarians. 'Twould not be very surprising to hear they could commune with animals."

"But it's not every animal... those other wolves still..."

"You aren't very powerful, yet," Morrigan interrupted. "And were even less so weeks ago. I have a book you should read, when we return to the camp." There was another careless shrug. "If you want."

Serena ducked her head, a small smile on her lips. "Thanks, Morrigan."

"Ladies, I hate to interrupt, but I believe this is our new friend, just there." Zevran pointed to a large twisted oak a hundred paces in front of them. It was a beautiful tree, with coppery leaves and deep brown bark. Without a word, Zevran handed Serena the acorn.

"All right... okay. This will work. He'll be... grateful." Serena nodded to herself and strode up to the tree. "Ah, hello? Are you... are you there?"

The great tree shifted, it's twisting trunk becoming two great legs and its branches becoming two arms. Serena couldn't help but back up, the memory of the earlier tree that had nearly crushed her flashing through her mind.

"What manner of beast be thee that comes before this elder tree?"

"I... I am a human," Serena said, curtsying politely. "A lady." She could hear Zevran snicker from behind her.

"Ahhhh, yes, I remember thy kind," the tree replied, it's voice pleasant and low. "So brief of life and all but blind... to the peril you cause, the lives you take... such chaos is sown within thy wake." The tree shook its mighty head, the leaves swaying and cracking in the wind. "Allow me a moment to welcome thee. I am called the Grand Oak, sometimes the Elder Tree. And unless thou thinkst it far too soon, might I ask of thee a boon?"

"Well, the world is certainly full of marvelous, unexpected creations." Wynne came to stand beside Serena, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Each day we see something that we never thought possible."

Leliana stepped forward as well, her bow in her hand. "The other trees... they're quite hostile, you know."

The Grand Oak nodded, his entire body swaying side to side. "Of the sylvans, this is true... they are quite mad, their virtues few. A spirit trapped within a tree, no mouth to scream or eyes to see. A cage of bark, a prison wood, a thing of rage where nature stood."

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say I like this rhyming tree," Alistair said quietly.

"And an excellent pun as well, my friend," Zevran added, patting Alistair on the back. They both laughed, and Serena rolled her eyes.

"So twisted sylvan they become, but I am not the same as some," the Grand Oak continued, either ignoring or not even hearing the boys chatter, Serena couldn't tell. "I accept my fated oaken home, I feel no need to rage and roam."

"Right, so, you were saying something about a boon?" Serena prompted the tree.

"I have but one desire, to solve a matter very dire... as I slept one early morn, a thief did come and steal an acorn..." The tree let out a huge rush of air that Serena assumed was a sigh. "All I have is my being, my seed. Without it I am alone indeed. I cannot go and seek it out; yet I shall die if left without."

Serena turned and grinned triumphantly at Morrigan, giggling as she saw the witch roll her eyes. She turned back to the giant tree and held up the acorn high, hoping the great tree could see it.

"We traded that thief for this acorn boon, as we hoped to have it to you soon... we'd heard you missed it badly, see... and now you have it, clear and free." Behind her she could hear Alistair and Zevran totally lose it, laughing loudly.

The Grand Oak bowed, gently plucking the acorn from Serena's hands. "My joy soars to new heights indeed! I am reunited with my seed!" To her enormous delight, the great tree hugged the acorn close to its bark-covered chest. Serena felt her heart swell at the tree's happiness. For the first time in ages, they'd been able to help someone, or something, without having to kill anyone to do it.

"This cannot pass without reward; I shall give what little I can afford." The tree pulled a stray branch from its back and handed it to Serena. "Keep this branch of mine with thee, and pass throughout the forest free."

"I wish thee well, my mortal friend. Thou brought my sadness to an end." Reaching down again, Serena realized the tree was trying to shake her hand, and she extended her hand, grasping one of its long fingers in what might have been the most awkward handshake ever. "May the sunlight find you, thy days be long, thy winters kind, and thy roots be strong." With another curtsy, Serena bobbed back from the tree as it threw itself back into its twisted stance, going still again.

She turned to her companions, red in the face but smiling broadly. "Wow. That was..."

"That... was... fantastic..." Alistair gasped between breaths. "Poet tree... oh, boy. And your rhyme!" He exchanged another look with Zevran and they both doubled over again laughing.

"It wasn't that funny, idiot boys," Morrigan grumbled, her eyes narrowed at them and her arms folded over her chest.

Serena held the tree branch out, examining it. "Oh, come on, Morrigan. That was a solid tick, or should I say stick, in the win column for us... no death, no destruction, just a silly tree happy to have it's seed back. Also, you owe Leliana two silvers."

"I throughly hate you all," Morrigan replied. She dipped into her pocket and pressed two silver coins into Leliana's waiting hand, the bard grinning cheekily at her.

"Perhaps we should get through that fog and into the ruin," Wynne said, glancing at the slowly darkening sky. "It would be better if we could camp indoors, I think."

Serena nodded, and the party started moving again. Serena found herself walking next to the giant qunari, and smiled up at him, holding up the Grand Oak branch. "So... at least we're making some headway now, huh?"

Sten regarded the tree branch in her hand and rolled his eyes. "This forest is asinine. Much like your entire country. It makes me miss Seheron more. There was order there, things made sense. This country is nothing but chaos."

"What were you expecting? There's a Blight and the rumblings of a civil war..." Serena began.

"Even without those things, no one has a place here. Your farmers wish to be merchants. The merchants dream of being nobles, and nobles become warriors." He eyed Serena with his penetrating red eyes and she thought she could see the beginnings of a smirk. "No one is content to be who they are."

"I'm content," Serena replied. "I'm wildly content. I've got my tree branch here, and look, there's the mist, and we'll just walk right through that... oh yes, I'm very content right now." She shrugged, looking up at the huge man. "Is there anything you like about Ferelden?"

"There is... interesting food here."

"Interesting like, good interesting?" Serena asked. "Or interesting like 'this tastes like a shoe but I don't want to be rude' so you say it's interesting?"

"You have a thing... it doesn't have a word in the qunari tongue. Little baked things, like bread, but sweet, and crumbly." Sten rummaged in his pack, pulling out a small tin. He opened it and smiled, offering one of its contents to Serena.

"Cookies?" Serena took a small frosted bit shaped like a pony and popped it in her mouth.

"Yes! We have no such things in our lands. This should be remedied." Sten took one of the cookies for himself and placed the tin back in his pack.

"Where did you get these, by the way?" Serena said, chewing quickly.

"There was a child, a fat, slovenly thing, in the last village we passed... I relieved him of these confections..." Sten shrugged his massive shoulders. "He didn't need more."

Serena laughed. "You stole cookies from a child?" The picture her mind was forming for her of this huge man plucking a tin of cookies from a fat kid had her in a fit of giggles.

"It was for his own good," Sten replied.

"The qunari views on ownership are very... interesting," Serena said carefully.

"Indeed."

They came upon the mist and Serena waved the branch about, not sure what to do. Like a torch, the magical branch parted the mists and they were able to finally enter the ruins properly. Almost immediately, the forms of the werewolves met them, the one calling himself Swiftrunner among them.

"The forest has not been vigilant enough," the lead werewolf growled at them. "Still you come." He snarled, and Serena felt Alistair come to stand at her other side, his hand at her back. "You are stronger than we could have anticipated. The Dalish chose well... But you do not belong here, outsider. Leave this place!"

"Would you allow me to discuss this Witherfang? Or the… the Lady of the Forest?"

"The Lady- you, what do you know of... arghh... You are sent by the treacherous Dalish to kill Witherfang! I will not stand by and allow that to happen!" The werewolf clutched his head. "I... I will not risk believing you simply want to talk! You are all intruders in our home! You come to kill, as all your kind do! We have... learned this lesson well."

The werewolves keen eyes focused on Serena, and she was reminded of the night by the river when Morrigan had changed. Her eyes then had looked much the same. "Here, Witherfang protects us... we will defend Witherfang and this place with our lives!" With a howl, the group of werewolves charged at Serena, and she barely had enough time to grab her daggers before the first one was on them.

The wolf pounced on her, snarling, as Serena quickly used its momentum against it to flip it over herself. Rolling to her feet, she stood back to back with Zevran as they moved in a circle, their fighting style complimenting each other perfectly. Like a complicated dance, Serena was reminded of her time in the Fade with him, taking down his fake Crow brothers.

"While the tree was funny, I must say it is nice to get back to basics," Zevran called, sweeping his leg under one of the wolves and knocking it to the ground as Serena moved to knock it out with the hilt of her dagger. The assassin looked around quickly, taking stock of the battle. "That's two down, two to go."

Swiftrunner was nearby, and they moved to engage him as they heard him howl again. Out of nowhere, a giant white wolf crashed down on top of Serena, knocking the breath out of her. It swiped an enormous paw at Zevran, who slid out of its way. The werewolves scrambled around it to gather their fallen, and quick as it had come, the white wolf led them away into the ruins.

The assassin cursed in Antivan and kneeled down beside Serena, his amber eyes checking her for wounds. "You were not bitten, were you, my dear?"

"Serena! Oh, Maker, that wolf-" Alistair moved beside her and Serena clutched at his hand. "Was that Witherfang?"

Serena shook her head. "I... think so. It was white, anyway. And no, not bitten." With help from Alistair and Zevran, she stood up on wobbly legs. "Damn heavy wolf... goodness..." She dusted the dirt off her leathers and groaned, her ribs burning. "Wynne..."

The older mage looked up from tending Leliana, who had been clawed across her arm and was having the deep scratches healed. Serena staggered over to where they were, plopping back down on the ground beside the bard. She grasped her hand as the redhead gave Serena a strained smile. "Lucky us, hmm, Serena?"

"Yeah, lucky us." The blue healing magic coated her from head to toe and Serena heard the delicate pops as her ribs reformed inside her chest. "Oh, oh, ouch... ahhh. You know, for all their talk of us killing, and the Dalish killing... I only knocked one of them out..."

"I hadn't even time to pull an arrow before they were on me," Leliana said, her eyes on her shoulder as the deep claw marks closed up and became pinkish scars, and then white scars, and then simply clear white flesh. "You are amazing, Wynne."

"Thank you, dears," the older mage replied, smiling. "I wish this wasn't necessary, but..." She sighed, looking at the ruin.

"Are both my pretty ladies ready to go again?" Zevran asked, standing uneasily by as they were healed. Serena nodded, pushing up on her hands to stand. Her eyes met Alistair's and she moved towards him, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Nothing permanent," she whispered in his ear. "Couple of busted ribs, that's all."

"Thank the Maker," he replied, equally quiet. His hand was rubbing her back soothingly. "It's like you have some magic target on your back or something."

"Tell me about it."