A/N: The Dalish Translations had been added.

Chapter 44

The Different Strands of Hate

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Noah

I could have stayed outside the tent along with the dog, waiting for news, enjoying the silent company while organizing my thoughts... Not having to face people, and just be at peace with myself. But I decided to heed the desire of the First.

The tree hugger didn't say anything new, with her warning about how I should behave myself among the Dalish. That the host dictates the rules of the game, that's obvious. It was one of the greatest truths, and always would be, regardless of where we were. I just didn't expect the situation to be as rigid as it was. The clan's First seemed like a tyrant, and there had not been even a single time that I hadn't been threatened in one way or another by her people.

Which leads me to wonder what kind of person Zathrian was. If his First was like this, I already had a hint about what we would have to face...

Things here were too complicated, too serious. And although it was supposed to be a meeting place, it seemed more like a prison camp than anything. The rest of the group was spread throughout makeshift wooden benches, which were organized around a large open space. Surrounding the area, several elves were grouped, each one with a different weapon in hand, obviously watching the witch, the Sister, the dog and the Qunari.

I entered at once, earning the attention of the elves, and yet I ignored them completely as I sat in a secluded corner. They wouldn't kill me... not when their Frist allowed our presence -in theory, at least.

My head felt like it was going to explode from so many thoughts, so many different feelings, so many conflicts and contradictions. I needed some time to try to understand everything that was going on before making any kind of decision - to understand what was happening to me, what was happening around me, what was happening with the elf...

But it was hard to be rational with my head pounding so hard. I was scared, panicked… It had been a long time since I'd felt like this.

Sinking my face in my hands, I noticed they were shaking a little, still covered in dried blood, dust and red hair.

"Noah," Leliana called, in her usual sweet voice. "Kallian is strong, she will be fine."

I just mumbled, pushing my hair back. I wasn't worried about it. Not because of her.

No, it definitely wasn't because of the stupid elf. She was nothing to me, nor I to her. She was just a bossy leader, who I followed for lack of choice, and who had never done anything other than give me headaches. Someone who I had the misfortune to cross paths with, and that by a coincidence of fate, had received the same mission as me. Someone annoying and naughty who I was forced to live with day in and day out, even against my will.

She was an unknown, and nothing more.

"I know you're worried, but have faith," Leliana said, smiling as if ... I dunno, just smiling, proudly showing all those white teeth, as if there was nothing wrong. "Everything will be alright."

"I'm not concerned," I said angrily, maybe even with an extra dose of rudeness. But I didn't mind, really. I mean, I wished I could hear my own thoughts, but she wouldn't stop chattering, until I thought my ears would fall off. I just wanted to be alone, in silence, so I said the first thing that came to mind. "I was just trying to make sure that she would live, so I didn't have to answer for her responsibilities." I looked right into the sister's eyes, and more than fear, there was a twinge of contempt hidden in her blue irises. Great. Let her snort, complain, hate me - if it would make her shut up, then it was worth it.

She shook her head in a reprehensible manner.

"How can you be so cold?"

I just mumbled, sinking further into in my arms, glad that she didn't insist on receiving an answer. I really needed the silence.

But maybe she was right. Maybe my heart was really made of ice, a really cold and hard block of ice covered with calluses and spikes, whose shell was so tough and impenetrable that nothing could get in or out, where no heat was able to reach, and too cold to allow life to sprout inside its frigid depths.

Maybe that was why my chest hurt so much with every beat of my heart.

Mahariel

"Lanaya, you 're very quiet," I said, after a few hours of treatment. I know she was tired, could see the sweat sprouting on her forehead as she kept the dim greenish light over the wound on Kallian's right shouder. Her hands kept the pressure, but there was plenty of exposed flesh, and much damage to be repaired, yet even so, it was the best we could do with what we had available.

Not even all of her mana potions, nor all the herbs and blends that I made, seemed to be able to sustain her magic, much less fully heal that wound. The bite marks were all black, yes, but they were not infected as I had thought. It was strange, as if there was something beyond our control acting there, but even so, I did everything I could to try to deal with the unknown. This odd stain had spread through her veins to her cheek, as if someone had tattooed a spider web on her face, but it seemed to stop spreading where the lines reached her right eye.

Thankfully, at least her breathing had stabilized, and she was not bleeding anymore.

However, Lanaya was quiet - brow furrowed, lips slightly twisted... This was not simple exhaustion. Something was bothering her - the fever, the black lines ... I cannot say. She knew something, but would not tell me.

"Is she going to die?" I asked, after the silence had been long enough.

"At this rate, no, but..." She relaxed her shoulders, sighing heavily as she allowed her bloody hands to fall to her sides. "Eilleen, do you know, by any chance, if your friend's…Vallas'lin*… means something?"

"The one near her shoulder?" I asked, unsure of where she was going. "I didn't even know about its existence until today. Why do you ask?"

"Nothing…" She said, a bit hesitant, furrowing her brows deeply. "Just wondering…"

"I believe you're avoiding the main subject, sister," I cut, anxious to get to the point of what really mattered. "What is truly relevant."

"Which is...?"

"I saw the wolves." I leaned my hands on the bed, bending my body forward to stretch my back. "The werewolves. By the Creators, Lanaya, what's happening?"

She sighed again, and I could see her tired expression growing about ten years older as she considered my question.

"The Fen'ghi*. This, well… It's a plague," she whispered, sending more green rays onto Da'shal's exposed shoulder. "We've been dealing with them for some time now."

I stayed silent for a while, placing the pieces together in my head. Just thinking, while watching the light of her magic waxing and waning. "She is going to transform into one of them, isn't she?"

The First hesitated before answering, sighing once more before stopping the procedure. "I'm afraid so, Eilleen. Abelas*, lethalan*."

"But you have a cure, right?" I asked expectantly. After all , that's why we came here... to seek a solution, to find answers...

Her silence, however, was the worst answer I could have received.

I fell onto the adjacent bed, totally defeated, burying my face in my hands. So that was it. Alistair turned into a monster, Kallian would turn too. At the first difficulty we'd met, the group had failed miserably.

I had failed.

"Damn it!" I stood abruptly, knocking a few of the pots to the floor in a gesture of anger and discontent. Lanaya didn't interfere, just allowed me to throw my anger at inanimate objects as if she could understand my frustration.

Maybe she could. I wondered how many she had lost this same way….

"Are you sure that there's nothing we can do?" I asked, nervously running my hands over my face.

"There's something ... " she said, but for some reason, I knew I would not like the answer. "Tie her wrists with these chains beneath the stretchers, and pray to the Creators." She put her hand on my shoulder. "We did everything we could."

I didn't reply, mostly because I didn't agree with her. Da'shal would not have stopped trying to save one of us, if things were different. She would have turned the whole world upside-down in order to prevent any of us from suffering such a horrible fate - had just done exactly that for Alistair when she'd risked her life to try to bring him back. There had to be something… some way to heal the one who had saved us all so many times before….

"She what?"

The shout pulled Noah away from his thoughts. It was the first time in several hours that someone had dared to break the silence. It was a masculine, rough and angry, voice that echoed through the trees and cut the morning air like sharp scissors tearing a piece of linen. Such was the violence of his tone that the storm which had threatened to fall the previous night finally decided to let loose, throwing its heavy drops on the group in a perfectly timed response to Zathrian's rage.

Noah raised his head in time to see a tall, slender elf entering his field of vision. Rain fell on the old elf's smooth bald head, and ran rapidly through the thick lines that covered his entire face - forming a tattoo that, according to Noah, had no apparent logic - until the water finally dropped onto the thick and long staff he carried on his back.

"So it was true," the elf mage said, looking at the group with so much hatred that Leliana felt forced to look away. "Where is Lanaya?"

The elf whom he had addressed gulped, hiding behind his wet hair.

"Sarel," The elf mage stepped forward, coming closer to the group than he wanted. "Where. Is. Lanaya?"

He barked every word slowly, making it clear that he would not leave without an answer.

"In her tent, Keeper," said Sarel apprehensively, rubbing his hands together nervously.

The name of the First didn't go unnoticed by Noah, and soon he was standing, watching the violent reaction of the Keeper as he walked towards the tent he had left just a few hours ago.

"Halam sahlin*!" Zathrian growled, leaving deep footprints in the wet ground, ignoring the mud that was soaking the hem of his robe..

"No, you won't stop them!" Noah ran toward the elf, but before he could grab the mage's arm, Zathrian swerved toward him - he barely lifted his hand, and thick gold lines were already curling around the human's body like a rope, pinning his arms, legs and joints until it finally tied around his neck.

"Are you talking to me?" The Keeper closed his fingers slowly, increasingly tightening the pressure of the strings against Noah's skin. "You're really talking to me, human?"

"Y-you will not stop them..." Noah coughed the words with difficulty, feeling the air leaving his lungs as the hot magical rope cut through the skin of his neck.

Zathrian didn't answer, just continued to increase the pressure of his hex against the human - blood was already dripping on the ground, and the elf wasn't willing to stop until his head was separated from his body.

"Keeper!" Lanaya exclaimed, running toward them. Mahariel followed her closely, both alarmed after hearing the exalted cries of Zathrian. They were covered with so much blood that even the rain couldn't wash it away completely.

Despite the high level of desperation in the First's calling, her presence didn't seem to have affected the elf leader.

"Zathrian!" Mahariel growled louder than the rain, after realizing that the Keeper had just ignored his apprentice completely. After listening to her voice, however, Zathrian stopped feeding his magic and gave a brief peek over his shoulder, his face contorting into a grimace upon confirming the owner of that so despicable voice.

"Behold, the stray, once again returns to the heart of her people." With a slight movement, which looked more like a wave, the Hex that held Noah was undone, and the human could finally breathe again. "If I remember correctly, daughter of Aldor, at our last meeting, you were dying." With another shake of the hand, a force spell was launched against Noah, exploding in his chest and throwing him against the stone statue behind the meeting place. "Yet, there you are, before my very eyes, and most importantly, more alive than I'd like." He crossed his arms. "Care to explain?"

Mahariel swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of Zathrian's mana against her body. She hated him to the depths of her very soul, and knew that the feeling was mutual. As much as she wanted to make him swallow all the insults and indignities that she had endured her whole life, she had to dance to his music, or at least pretend to respect him, if she wanted live to witness another sunrise.

Zathrian would not think twice before killing her if she got in his way. That surety was even greater than her faith in the Creators.

She then stared at him, holding back her anger as best she could, but not before one last look at Noah, to make sure he was still breathing.

"We have not invented words to explain so much affection, Zathrian." She replied, mirroring his tone of contempt.

"Lanaya," He ignored the blonde elf, heading to his directly to his apprentice. "Why on earth are there shemlens in my camp?"

"Eileen's friend was seriously injured, and-"

"And then you decided that bringing the enemy to our Vhen'an* was a good idea?" He started walking in circles, impatient.

"Keeper, I..."

"Seriously, Lanaya, I expected more from you."

"They are Dorf'vhen*!" She protested, trying to protect herself. "In addition, Keeper, it's not right to deny aid to a sister in need. You taught me that! "

"Wardens… So, they came because of the Blight." He scratched his chin, frowning while ignoring Lanaya's arguments. "No matter. I want you out of my camp."

"You cannot kick us out," Mahariel challenged, remembering her last day along with Sabrae, where Marethari explained her reasons for welcoming Duncan and others. "The treaties of neutrality are quite clear about this. About us." She gestured to herself and Noah. "You cannot ignore the agreement signed by our ancestors!"

Mahariel was surprised with herself. She never thought that she would use the same line she'd repudiated herself less than two months ago, when Duncan had snatched her from the Sabrae, against someone of her own kind. But the truth was that Kallian wouldn't last even an hour in that storm, and in that moment, the welfare of the little elf was more important than the consideration of a bond with Zathrian that had never even really existed.

The Keeper was skeptical at the mention of treaties, scratching his chin thoughtfully.

"Show me these papers," he challenged.

Mahariel

Zathrian had the suspicion of a whole generation together, and his pride was like a concrete wall, sturdy and impenetrable. His word was always the law, the absolute truth - he was always right, even when he was wrong.

He always ended up winning, always had to have the last word. So, when we presented the documents - specifically Leliana did, since it was she who managed to rescue the backpack of Da'shal in the midst of all the confusion with the werewolves - he continued with his nagging skepticism.

He spent a long time reviewing the documents. "The treaties talks about Grey Wardens, specifically." He folded the papers and pushed them back to Noah, with little regard for the human, throwing the documents at the him as if he was adding a piece of trash to a pile of garbage. The poor man may not have been hurt from the impact of the Keeper's Force spell, but the marks of the strangling Hex were still around his neck, shining from beneath the water that trickled from his hair. "I want the others out."

"You cannot be serious." Noah muttered, placing the papers safely inside his bag.

"I seem to be joking, human?" Zathrian took a step forward, not intimidated by the height difference between the two. "If you value the life inside that tent, you will think at least three times before speaking to me again. " Beside him, Layana only exchanged uneasy glances with me, unsure about taking sides.

"Are you threatening me?" Noah growled, as always, indifferent to good sense.

"Zathrian, you're crossing the line," I interjected, placing myself beside Noah. "Upon threatening the life of a Grey Warden, you are threatening to put the Dalish in a political conflict with Weisshaupt ... In a personal conflict with the First Warden, for threatening the life of one of his men! Are you out of your mind?!"

It was a bluff, of course, and I just prayed silently that he would not notice my insecurity. I knew little about the Grey Wardens, their ranks, or even what the First Warden was. But, by the disgusting expression on the Keeper's face, he probably didn't know much more than I did, and that made me a little more relaxed.

The whole point was to not make him get off his pedestal, or to make him nice - Zathrian always followed through on the threats he made. And he would kill Kallian just to feed his pride, if needed.

He'd done it once - nothing would prevent him from doing it again.

"I'm just saying that the Adahl'en* can be cruel." He ran a hand over his wet, bald head. "Accidents may happen. I would not risk it if I were you."

The forest can be cruel? I should have expected that he would never withdraw his threat. I sighed.

Not even once during this tense conversation had he looked me in the eye. I was a ghost, a shadow of my clan - or at least what was left of it - and the vivid memory of my father, the only elf who'd never yielded to his games of pressure. He despised me, my blood, and everything related to my clan, as if I was a painful reminder of the things he wanted to forget.

Zathrian hated me just because I existed, and he wouldn't look me in the eye, or talk directly to me - not while his pride was greater than his soul.

"All right," Noah said after a while, his feral eyes never leaving the brown eyes of Zathrian. "If you want the others to leave, they will leave." I peeked over my shoulder and realized that Leliana could not look more lost than she did now, with those wide eyes asking the reason of such a crazy maneuver. "Now, does that mean that you 'll help us?"

Zathrian laughed, "Help?" He took a long time to laugh again. "No, human, the Uthen'len** will not join your particular fight. Solve your problems alone."

"You have no choice..." he growled.

"Really?" Zathrian asked mockingly. "Wait and see," he continued derisively, as Noah attempted to storm the Keeper for a well-aimed punch. I held him by the arm, restraining him as Zathrian went on. "You will leave. May Ferelden get sucked into the Void - I will not get involved."

Layana gave me an apologetic look - shrugged lightly, and went back to her tent, following Zathrian closely. I couldn't believe she trusted Kallian alone with the Keeper, not after such a demonstration of hatred.

And as I predicted, he left without looking at me. He didn't dare confront me, knowing that I knew the truth, despite what everyone believed. I knew the truth, I had seen his true face. He wouldn't dare.

"You said that he was a rigid leader," Noah said after Zathrian had disappeared from sight. "Not that he was an asshole."

I threw him a tired look , passing a hand over my forehead to push away the strands of hair that were sticking on my skin from the rain , by the way, looked like it would only get worse over and over. The raindrops were heavy, and felt sharp on my skin, as if I they were tiny little daggers being thrown from the sky, and I could hear thunder rumbling in the distance, coming to join the party.

Despite having already dawned, the sun didn't shine. And I ... didn't know what to do. There was a cranky, unstable elf that I had to pretend to respect, two mates who were doomed to be flayed like animals and, for a moment, I just lost my focus. The whole Blight thing didn't make sense anymore - after all, my goal was to help Da'shal to achieve her goal. Now, what was left to me? I just had an annoying human to deal with and nothing more.

Andruil... I humbly ask you to put a little light in my life, so that the path before me is enlightened on this rainy, gray day. My choices are clouded, and I fear that my will is not the better option at the moment.

If the fog is too dense… If I'm beyond any help... at least give me strength and wisdom, so that I can control this uncontrollable urge to sink an arrow between the eyes of Zathrian every time our paths cross...

This would be a great start.

Noah

"I hope you don't mind sleeping in the mud, Prince of Highever," she said as she undid her long ponytail. With a last hand, she loosened the locks of her golden hair and let them fall freely down her back, before sitting on the bench. "Because this will be all we get.."

"I will not sleep," I mumbled, and she just shrugged her shoulders, burying her face in her hands and her grief was so palpable that I couldn't divert my gaze from her. It was as if the weight of the world had fallen painfully on her shoulders, and all at once. "And don't call me that."

She really wasn't really concerned with what I was saying anymore.

"What shall we do?" the sister asked, hugging her own body to keep from trembling. Her hair was pasted on her face in a total mess - even her braids had fallen apart. "Are we really going to leave, Noah? Don't you think it 's too dangerous?"

I looked at the elf before answering - she was pressing her temple with such force that I thought it would burst at any moment. I just didn't understand why it mattered to me so much, to the point where I had to stop and check on her all the time.

Maybe because it was the first time I had seen her so lost and tired, like now?

"Nobody leaves," I said, focusing on the problem before me. "He didn't accept the agreement, so no deal."

The elf then laughed, perhaps ironically, I cannot say, but it was a horribly debauched sound. "That was not an agreement, it was an order." She dragged both hands through her golden curls, pushing all the hair behind her head. "And when Zathrian orders, you follow. That's how it works."

"And what are you? His loyal dog who obeys him under all circumstances?" I put both hands on my waist, leaning my body forward so that our eyes could meet. "He treated you worse than trash, and you still dare to defend him?"

Her eyes twinkled in a strange way after hearing my words, and in the midst of so much water pouring down her face, something caught my attention - I could swear that she was crying.

She showed no weakness, nor did her voice crack as she spoke the next words, but something inside, something deep inside told me that, somehow, I was right. And it made me lose at least half of that usual, crazy impulsiveness to throw back in her face all that bullshit about the supposed superiority of the elves. She was so proud of their "union under adversity," and where was it now?

Superiority my ass. This Zathrian was worse than many humans I knew.

"I have no choice..." No, it was not weakness that made her voice waver, definitely. It was anger, which I knew very well, contained and concentrated, which sounded cracked and rough as the words passed through her gritted teeth. It was so intense that it forced me to look down.

"Get out," I commanded the others, who just looked at each other, confused as ever. "Find a place to stay, near to the camp if possible. Just leave the dog and my sword. I'll meet you soon."

"Noah, this makes no sense ..." The Sister argued, while the witch had already turned around and was walking away.

"Now," I commanded, cold and direct, so that she could no longer argue. I may have even scared her, but whatever. Anyway, this caused her to pick up her own bag with anger - and contempt for me - and do as I had commanded. The Qunari didn't take long to follow them, and soon we were alone.

Just me, her, the dog and the torrential and freezing rain over our heads. But the truth was that I could feel so much tension from her, so much worry, that I doubted very much that she cared about the amount of the water that was falling from the sky.

I knelt in front of her, so our eyes could stay at the same level. She suddenly straightened up surprised, with her eyes wondering what my plan truly was.

"What do you want, anyway?" she asked, throwing her body back while her hands dropped into her lap.

My only response was a grunt, muffled by the noise of rain, as we faced each other in silence. There was something different about her besides the tears, which now showed real through her slightly red eyes. But she was too proud to get carried away, to allow herself to be weak, so she kept her stance, even if tired, the whole time.

She was a very difficult person. A beautiful, difficult person, indeed..

Way too beautiful, if you ask me. Of course, these were intruders - rebel thoughts that would spring to my mind without warn or consent - but it wasn't as if I had some way to block them out. And even if I had, my body was already responding on its own to this new torrent of feelings that began to invade my chest.

My eyes discreetly followed the path that the rain made upon sliding down her skin, starting with her delicate face, caressing her smooth skin down to her neck, collarbone, and finally around her breasts. I hadn't remembered that leather armor covered so little of her skin - a kind of shorts with some weird cloth hung behind and in front, and a breastband that left much of her belly exposed.

Belly which, incidentally, was well defined. It was possible to see the discreet muscles rising and falling with her ragged breathing, including the attractive path that they formed down her abdomen, leading my eyes to the lowest part of her waist ...

I nodded, growling to myself reproachfully. This line of thinking was unacceptable, and the heat of the moment was already reaching more parts of me that I would have really liked just then, so… well, it had to stop. She just stared at me, tilting her head to the side slightly, with those huge and worn, shimmering and strangely beautiful emerald eyes...

I'd never noticed how attractive and sexy that damn elf was. She was not my kind of woman - I generally prefer sweet and gentle brunettes, not feisty and stubborn blondes. It was too adversarial, and she definitely didn't attract me.

Eilleen…

Yes, maybe she attracted me a bit. But I blamed tiredness, stress... That kind of thing messes with a person's head. Probably this nonsense would disappear after a good night's sleep... or after a drink or two.

Or many.

"Will you speak, or just stare at me?" she asked, her soft voice almost drowned out by the rain. I only raised my head, staring at her emerald eyes as I tried to focus on what was important.

"What are you not telling me?" I asked, and Maker, my voice sounded sweeter than I thought was possible. Even she was surprised a bit, but didn't show any reaction beyond her eyes slightly widened, and the distrust in her expression. "What does this Zathrian possess that makes you stay submissive to his will?"

"It's complicated," she said, mirroring my low voice as she leaned foward, placing her elbows on her knees. My eyes, my damn eyes, fled for a moment to check the new part of skin that had been exposed with her movement. Why did her breastband have to be so small?

I had to bite my tongue to make my eyes return to hers, and silently thanked the Maker that slide was fast enough for her to notice.

"Tell me, then," I changed my knee, approaching her a bit. "The elf will turn, I can see that in your eyes, and this dammed Keeper will not help us...Honestly, I don't know what we're still doing here." I calmly explained all my conclusions, to make sure that she was following. "And yet, you're trusting in that piece of shit to take care of your Da'shal, even seeming to hate him." I squeezed my own temple this time. "You never made much sense, but this time you've outdone yourself."

She clasp her hands, still with her elbows on her knees. "Zathrian is immortal, powerful and proud... a dangerous combination that you do not simply ignore. You just… stay out of his way..." Again, her eyes lit up in that strange way, and this time her voice clearly failed.

"If you hate him so much, tell him!" I growled, standing up abruptly. "Impose your feelings and kick his ass, if you need to! Or is your damned elven pride something you use just to try to make me look like an idiot?

"Powerful, Noah." She repeated and stood, wiping her eyes discreetly.

"He cannot do anything against you!" I replied, crossing my arms. "Maker have mercy, you are a Grey Warden! You don't answer to him anymore - He have to answer to you." I sighed. "Moreover, how would his clan react if he chose to kill one of their own? It doesn't make sense!"

She laughed with that grim expression again. "You think it's easy, don't you? Do you really think that is easy to bear everything and keep my mouth shut?!" She basically screamed louder than the thunder roaring above our heads, taking a step in my direction. "I'm not afraid of him, as you might think. Anger is what I have. Hate." She clenched her hands into fists beside her body. "And if I accept what he says, it's because if I open my mouth to argue, I'll end up killing that bastard!"

I'd never seen her as angry as she was now. It was hard to tell if the redness in her eyes was anger or sadness... Everything became suddenly too intense, and somehow it began to hurt me. It was like I could understand her anger….

Howe.

He was powerful, and had the royal army with him. And I was just a man, that would probably get killed in a direct confrontation.

"Then, kill him." I said, more than certain about that. My anger would never stop me for doing justice with my own hands, even if it meant that I would get killed in the process - I will kill Howe with my own hands, and no army could stop me. "Avenge yourself. Solve the problem and regain a bit of your dignity."

"And pit all the elves against me? No, thank you." She turned away, hugging her own body. For some reason, I felt a strange urge to put a hand on her shoulder, but I kept still. "He has to be judged for his crimes. Justice has to be served, but not by my hands. That's the only way they will achieve peace..."

"They?" I asked, starting to get tired of this conversation. She was walking in cirecles, and explained little to nothing. I knew she despised and feared him, despite what she said, but "They"? Crimes, justice? What she was talking about?

"Zathrian is a murderer," she answered my silent question, and I could see her digging her nails deeply into her palms. "He killed my-"

When she was finally going to reveal the last piece of what could be the key to solve the mystery of her contradictory behavior, our conversation was interrupted by bells. Yes, urgent, violent bells rang, followed by the sounds of hurried footsteps smashing the mud, and metal banging against metal.

Howls cut the morning air, muffling almost completely the only voice that dared to yell under such brutal attack - a desperate and painful scream that echoed with the intensity of a storm, reflecting the desperation of the whole clan.

"Werewolves!"

Notes:

Dorf'vhen - Grey people
Vhen'an - Home
Vallas'lin - Tattoo
Fen'ghi - Wolf beasts
Abelas - Sorry
Lethalan - Female friend
Halam sahlin - This ends now
Adahl'en - Forest

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A\N: Happy holidays, everyone!

It took a while, I know. The chapter was ready to post since the 18th, but the next day, some accidents (caused by storms) left me without an internet connection. I've been trying to get it fixed, but all I could get was a really unstable connection that wouldn't last for more than 2 minutes. And with all the holidays and strong rains nearly everyday, I had no time or opportunity to find a way to post.

I apologize for the long delay, and for the unanswered reviews - I will take a look at them as soon as the service gets back to normal.

Anyway, I am using (and abusing) my creative liberty from now on, and some aspects of this Arc will suffer some changes. I'm not entering true AU territory yet, no. It's just a different interpretation of canon, with changes and twists to better suit it to my plan.

One of the changes was Uthen'len** - "The one forever awake", in Dalish. Zathrian's clan doesn't have an official name, so I took the liberty to create one.

About Zathrian… I know some of you will question my choices about him, or why he would act the way did, but consider that he is not exactly a nice person - he hates humans at all costs,and has a past with Mahariel, which will be explained later (and deeply in a different story, just like Eyes of the Heart, which tells more about Noah's past), so most of his decisions will be properly explained in time.

It's uncharted territory, I would say, so I would really appreciate if you could tell me what you're thinking about this new Brecilian :)