Over the remainder of our evening I was able to patch the tears to my leather armor and rearrange my satchel, though it was just something to keep my hands busy given how little there was. All I had was what was on my back during the battle. I remembered wrestling with the idea of wearing my mother's necklace into the battle but now I was glad I had. My other clothes, cloak, money, and larger stash of herbs had been lost to the old tent back in Ostagar. Hence, I offered to hunt as recompense for the loose tunics, human-length breeches and spare cloak that Flemeth had gifted me but was denied with Morrigan citing not wanting to have to start babysitting before she would have to. This led to Alistair explaining that the sense of taint goes both ways. Apparently, another reason Morrigan would be vital to our survival is she had a charm for concealing us as we passed the horde. It wouldn't be fool proof but we should be able to slip by without much trouble so long as we stayed quiet and swift. Though they had no men's clothes for Alistair, Flemeth geared him with the tent and some coin.

Our start the following morning was cautious as we traversed the Wilds under the cover of darkness. Thanfully, Morrigan knew the area as well as she did and soon we were being led through a dense undergrowth to skirt Ostagar's territory. Though her ease was familiarity, I soon found out I had the advantage being elvish and that Alistair could not see through the dark as well as I so we had to slow down to allow Alistair to find his footing along the way. I had taken to warning him of the terrain at particularly precarious sections. Morrigan hissed about the noise. Being vocally quiet would not save us if he were to go crashing down in his armor.

When the trees had parted along a particular ridgeline, sunrise had begun to brighten the grey sky and I was shocked to see the crumbling towers of Ostagar peaking above the obstructions. "You would not like to see what has become of that valley now," Morrigan warned before continuing ahead. It was a reminder of how close to the horde we were and the mass grave we were leaving behind. We dared not speak again for many hours and had re-entered the merchant's highway leading north by late morning. Evidence of the King's army was still marked along the road; old campsites and recent carriage marks carved into the clay. It was more than a little surreal to walk through.

"Wait!" Alistair whispered harshly drawing his sword and readying his shield. Morrigan halted from her pace ahead of us, slowly readying her staff.

Drawing my own dar'misu I cursed the way my own hands shook grasping the hilts and I only just registered a familiar sensation pricking its way along the back of my neck. The three of us stood agonizingly on edge until we heard marching coming from beyond the treeline to our left. Scanning the trees, my heart nearly stopped seeing a Hurlock with an arrow trained directly at me but before I could move the darkspawn was tackled to the ground by a massive brown beast that was quickly obscured by the brush. Morrigan's fireball struck the spot and the sound of darkspawn roars and the clanging of heavy armor erupted from the area. A small party of Hurlocks rushed us from the trees. I sent a silent prayer of thanks as I moved easier around their swings than I had in weeks. Though still not quite as proficient as I wanted, I was able to keep them occupied while Morrigan and Alistair picked them off.

Kicking the knee out of the Hurlock in front of me I sliced my blade through its neck and turned to find another already poised to swing its mace on my head but was immediately toppled by a familiar mabari who tore out half of the darkspawn's neck with his maw. Swinging back around I parried another and soon made quick work of the last with a stab under the breast plate. I was pulled back to the mabari's attention when he nudged at my hand with his bloody muzzle. The beast looked up at me expectantly and wagged his tail. I smiled at the hound, "Thank you for the help." I caught Alistair's eyes wanting to ask him if he sensed more, but his gaze quickly fell to the mabari at my side as he stowed away his arms. Taking the hint, I did the same.

Alistair grinned as he approached and knelt to greet the mabari. "So, you made it out? Why am I not surprised," he grinned. "You recognize him, right? He must have been looking for you."

"For me?" I said disbelieving but the mabari turned his eyes back to me with a smile and stronger wag of his tail that included his hips.

"I'm telling you it's you," Alistair stood crossing his arms, another ghost of his joviality showing in his smirk, "I could tell back at the kennels. He's imprinted on you."

"Oh, no. I don't know the first thing about taking care of a human war hound," the mabari whined and paw at my boot.

"Need I remind you both there is a horde of these darkspawn at our heels?" Morrigan sniped and stalked over looking as if she'd smelled something foul, "And I know you two are not considering taking this mangey mongrel with us?"

Alistair reach down to pat the mabari on the neck and cooed, "He's not mangey."

Morrigan snorted, "Come, let's be done with this before the horde finds us."

I took a precautionary look around despite Alistair's relaxed posture, "Alright, let's keep moving." Morrigan looked at the mabari then back to me with an arched brow. "Nuh uh, he just saved my ass. If he wants to follow, he's welcome."

"You can't be serious."

"Lead the way," I smiled back to her, the mabari already nuzzling my hand once again. Morrigan threw up her hands and stalked off. I shared an amused smile with the mabari and Alistair before we trailed along. Reaching into my pack I slipped a bite of jerky out to the hound who despite having a mouth large enough to engulf my whole hand was surprisingly gentle as he took the meat. "How did you escape?" I asked without expectation.

"Darkspawn don't tend to bother animals unless they're a threat," Alistair mentioned from the other side of the mabari, "At least that's what I've observed. He could probably tell what was happening and decided it was better to get out. They're a lot smarter than most give them credit. Do the Dalish have dogs?"

"I knew one clan that had one amongst them, but it wasn't a mabari. But no, we don't keep pets." I explained keeping an eye on Morrigan's figure as she weaved back off the path through the woods. The mabari having trotted ahead to the space between us and her.

"I'm not sure 'pet' does them justice," he mulled, swiping at low hanging branches, "Are you going to name him?"

"I guess I should. I'll have to think of something fitting." The mabari had disappeared past the underbrush but the sounds of his playing could be heard around us. "How do you sense the darkspawn?"

He kept his eyes on the terrain as we moved through the forest, "It's almost like someone's standing right behind you. Or right next to you and they're about to swing. At least it's that way for me. Sometimes it's just the air changes."

I ran through my past encounters with the darkspawn before and after the Joining. There might've been something I felt but it wasn't consistent enough or I wasn't observant enough to quite label it.

"It might not be felt first thing after the Joining," he supplied swiping at more branches. "Some things don't come right away. But others are supposedly better or worse whether there's a Blight or not."

"How long has it been since your Joining?"

"About six months," he fell silent and I could tell he'd slipped a lifetime away. It was a feeling I was all too familiar with.

When the sun began to slip behind the trees, I called Morrigan back to us to set up camp near a shallow creek. Though Alistair had survived Ishal as well as he could have, he was beginning to struggle to keep pace through the forest with us. The human warrior obviously was not used to trekking off road.

Dusk descended quicker around us than I had expected. "How about you two discuss the watch schedule and get a fire going. I'll go see if I can find anything still roaming for dinner."

Alistair whirled to me with a shocked expression, "You can't go out there alone. We're barely ahead of the horde."

"I'll bring him," I gestured to the mabari who immediately bounded to my side, "We need to keep up our energy if we're going to keep our pace. Which means more food than the dried fish we're currently packing," Reshifting my quiver over my shoulder I began to walk back into the undergrowth, "I'm a Dalish hunter. I've got this. You get a fire going."

I turned and slipped between the trees before either of them could say anything more. My reasons were only half of my goal. As we ventured north, the Wilds had given way to more familiar terrain and I itched to be back in the trees and in a familiar game. Surprisingly, the mabari was keeping up soundlessly at my heel despite his size. Banal'ras could be a fitting name. I scaled a nearby hill and the stout fir tree that sat near the top, bow in hand and a loose arrow clasped loosely between a finger and the grip. Below I had a decent visual of some deer trails and thin patch of poplars to the west. It wasn't the best vantage but there was little time to search out a new spot.

The woods were far too silent for my comfort as I sat vigil until the moon rose high above us. I didn't feel anything weird that I could attribute to darkspawn but I was sure the Blight just to the south was the cause. This area was not yet tainted but the spirits and animals held their breath anyway. When the clouds opened up to the stars against the black sky I knew it was well past time for me to return to camp but knowing did nothing to compel me from my perch. The peace and familiar scene set about a near suffocating relief in my chest and I allowed myself a few silent tears, the mabari remaining vigilant at the base of the tree. Keeping my ears to the trees and my eyes to the lights above me, my mind wandered back to Sabrae and a familiar tune played in the back of my mind. If I kept looking at the sky I could almost pretend this whole Blight was a bad dream. Could pretend that Tamlen was just over on a branch on the other side of the trunk. That we were along the ridgeline that shadowed the clan first thing in the morning. That any minute now Ashalle would come calling for us to return. A near painful warmth leapt back into my throat and eyes at the memory. Shit. I covered my mouth with my right hand to muffle the crying forcing its way out. Grief twisted my heart and I slumped back against the bark and allowed the emotion to take me under.

How was any of this possible. Just one disaster after another without room to breathe. My best friend was dead, my clan gone beyond my reach, I've escaped death three times before the month is out, and now I'm one of two remaining survivors expected to stop an army of monsters. Under the grief I recognized a current of shame and drowned it.

"What the hell?" he barked as he pulled me back to my feet. His tone belied by the gentle grip he had on my wrist.

"I'm an ARCHER, Tamlen," I whined, glaring down at the dar'misu in my hands and bruise blooming on left wrist from missing a parry. "I want to hunt. But we both know I'm a goner in a swordfight. If I see a shem I'll come grab you and you can stab all you want. How about that?"

"If you don't want to fight then go back to Maren," he challenged, pushing my shoulders and knees back into form. The look of disgust he held was the final straw though I knew it wasn't actually directed at me.

I threw the dar'misu to the ground in a petulance fitting a da'len of sixteen and flipped him off before strolling back to where I'd left my bow and fixing the lay of my navy tunic.

"Dahlia," he sighed. When I ignored him he rushed to my side, dar'misus in hand. "Lethallan. Ir abelas, alright?" Tamlen offered with a smile though it did not reach his eyes and pressed the dar'misus back to me. "Come on. I'll give you a free swing to make up, okay?"

"Tamlen, I'm terrible at this. My best shot is from my bow. If I try to cross blades with someone I will end up dead, " I stated lowering my voice so others would not hear. His smile had disappeared and anger and pain flashed in his blue eyes. It was a cheap shot given the time of year but one that needed to be said.

Though the hahrens discouraged holding onto grief as he did, he still felt his parent's slaughter just as raw as when they recovered their bodies ten years ago. It was a familiar tale in the clans that reinforced the sentiment that shemlen were to be avoided at all costs or shot on sight. Every year about this time his temper would become even shorter than normal and many of the others felt it in the bruises when sparring with him. And though he'd never admitted it, I knew he still had nightmares.

When I switched my path from apprenticing with Maren and the halla to training to be a hunter he was ecstatic at partnering together for future hunts. Unfortunately, he also saw an opportunity to teach me combat. At first, I welcomed it. But though he wasn't as aggressive with me as with the others he still got carried away in now that he had clear target for his unending energy. Fenarel helped in the beginning but with the growing agitation between us, Fen had fell back to helping me with some new archery techniques and away from anything to do with Tamlen and anything resembling a sword or staff. And in the last few weeks Tamlen had been relentless, dragging me from my aravel before dawn to drill and spar as well as pulling me away at any free moment to try out different weapons. At this rate I was beginning to rethink becoming a hunter.

He met my eyes again with a plea in his, "You just have hit them first. To be faster." His eyes dropped again to where he fidgeted with a piece of fraying leather on one of the pommels, "You don't have to be a hunter to need to know how to defend yourself." And I knew he wasn't just talking about his parents either.

"True but-," my frustrations washed away to nothing looking at my best friend. His nerves and lack of sleep were evident in his dirty hair and hunched shoulders, "I only just started. You and Fenarel have been beating each other up since you were five."

He chuckled, looking at me once again with that spark back in his eyes, "Yeah, I get it," he laid the dar'misus to the side and threw my braid over to lay on my chest before placing a lithe arm around my shoulders and lead me toward the hahren's fire. "I know! What if I got Merril down here to spar with you?"

I threw my head back as laughter peeled from me at the thought of the princess tussling with a sword, "I want you to stop swinging so hard but I'm not that weak."

"I just thought it'd give you some variety!"

"And give you something to laugh at," I jibed, playfully throwing my elbow into his side though he didn't let go.

"Obviously," he snickered. "Admit it, you'd like to see little-miss-kiss-ass to fall on hers too."

I shushed him but couldn't wipe the grin from my face, "You're too mean to her, lethallin. She's not that bad. And one day when she's keeper she'll make your life miserable."

He snorted at the thought, "That sounds like a challenge."

I laughed again, "What about that was a challenge?"

"When she's keeper she will have to suffer me. Not the other way around," he grinned down at me with an almost feral show of teeth.

I rolled my eyes, "Uh huh. Let me know how that works out for you."

He squeezed my shoulder and brought us to a stop away from the others, "Just promise me something, Dahlia."

It wasn't a question but I nodded anyway, "You'll learn how to fight. For me. I won't always be there to- Well just promise that if you- if anything-" he pursed his lips in frustration after stumbling over his words and glared off to the side before looking at me again, "You won't stop fighting until you're safe. Even if you're down to teeth and nails."

A cold fear washed through me at his intensity and realization that in just a short year it was about to be our turn. Our turn to defend the clan and ourselves against those that killed our parents and many others. He was afraid. For me. Just as I was afraid for him. "So long as you do the same."

A toothy grin stretched back across his face. He slapped my back and walked on toward the fire, "Oh don't worry, Lethallan, I don't fall on my ass as easily."

Neither of us actually said yes but we didn't need to. The following months saw Tamlen and Fenarel teaching me dual wielding in a way to duck and dance away from their swings and how to pick out their openings without leaving myself to be hit in return. My crying had finally come down to quiet gasps and I rubbed a rough leather glove against the tear tracks. In a moment of weakness, I debated remaining in the tree indefinitely.

Snap! I held my breath and looked toward where the sound. The mabari below stayed hunkered, unmoving and quiet. Knocking my arrow, I was surprised to see a fawn stumble from behind a thicket. The doe, I noticed, was not far behind with one ear fixed in my direction and the other still scanning. I relaxed the string of my bow. Even if I could justify the fawn I didn't have the heart for it. Maybe I'll find a few hares at sunrise. I sat and watched as the pair meandered through. The doe should have bed down her fawn by this time of night but maybe she was moving them from the taint. She risked unknown territory and nocturnal predators to a darkness she's never experienced.

I continued to observe the pair under the silver moonlight until they disappeared again. Once they'd gone I scaled back down the tree. The mabari let out a soft whine from my side and gave my hand a small lick. Reaching to scratch along his massive head I whispered, "I'm fine. Thank you for keeping watch. Banal'ras?"

His only response was another lick to my hand before he padded back toward where I'd left Morrigan and Alistair.

The others said nothing of my unproductive return as I dropped in next to the fire. Alistair wordlessly reach across to hand me a vial and a wrapped cloth. Taking the bundle with both hands I noted another draught from Flemeth and a crust of bread in the wrappings! Glorious, energy-dense bread. I ate in painstakingly slow bites trying to savor every morsel. Despite my still empty stomach, I reach the last bite to Banal'ras and downed the draught in hopes it would take away any lingering taste.

Leaning forward heavily with my hands in my lap I regarded the campsite and noticed we were actually down one. "Where's Morrigan?"

Alistair gestured off to the side never taking his eyes off the fire, "Said she'd sleep over there somewhere until her watch."

Once again, I was remembered just how different he was now versus the happy and upbeat warrior I had met some days ago. "I'm sorry." He raised a questioning gaze to me, "For all of this. For what you lost."

His gaze hardened at the realization, and he turned it back to the fire, "Don't be. None of us could've stopped this."

"Still," I know what you're going through. I kept my gaze to the flames at the awkwardness of the confession. "I don't know how to help it but," I gestured vaguely between us, meeting his guarded gaze briefly, "We're in this together. You're not alone."

The silence stretched on just long enough till I was sure my ears would burn off. "Thank you," he said somberly, "You should get some sleep. I'll wake you when it's your turn."

This night I thankfully slept heavy and dreamlessly between the mabari and the fire, except for my own uneventful watch when I hummed Dalish tunes under my breath to occupy myself. Morrigan woke me just as the crickets began to sing in the pre-dawn night as I'd asked so that this time I was out and settled in a tree as the sky had just begun to lighten. I was able to return soon after sunrise with two ptarmigans, Banal'ras having caught one for himself as the last scattered to the air. Falling back into a familiar routine of hunting and dressing the birds, I felt a portion of my soul heal in a way I didn't expect so soon.

Despite the easy morning, we made quick work cooking the bird and divvying out packaged portions between us to eat on the road. The next day saw that we moved over much more ground given we were able to stay on the path. Towards midday I broke the silence with questions for the humans about the cities we were to visit after Lothering. Morrigan deflected the conversation stating never been out of the wilds save Lothering. Alistair, though unable to tell me much of Orzammar or Kinloch Hold, patiently answered my questions about taverns, streets, houses, and markets.

"As enlightening this all is," Morrigan drawled from behind us, "Should we not be more concerned about the traitor?"

"Loghain will be surrounded by his soldiers back in Denerim," I supplied. "I thought it might be better to gather our support first."

"He has shown his teeth and his priorities. It seems to me that we would do well to eliminate his threat first, then continue to gather our allies without his shadow at our backs," she said bluntly.

I was surprised to see the glare Alistair shot back to her, "Oh, yes, because they're going to just let us waltz up to cut his throat and then leave on our merry way," he argued with a surprising amount of disdain in his voice I didn't know he could possess.

"Oh, so we're done falling on our sword in grief, are we?" she quipped.

Alistair stopped and whipped around to face her, "Is my being upset truly so hard for you to understand? Have you never lost someone important to you? Just what would you do if your mother died?"

Morrigan cracked a smirk with an viciously amused glare, "Before or after I stopped laughing?"

At Alistair's stricken expression I stepped forward ready to intervene between the two humans, "Let's just breath, yeah?" Alistair just shook his head and angled to me though he kept his deepening glower on the road ahead. Morrigan only sneered in his direction before turning her attention back to me, "I appreciate your input, Morrigan. But I'm not sure assassination would help us gather support."

"I gave my opinions. I don't ask that you take it but that you form some plan before the darkspawn march past us," she challenged.

"Well, I believe the elves will likely be last on our list of recruitment. My clan's gone north. Even if we were to return to where I knew them to be, it would be easier search for another clan than tracking down mine." I turned back to where Alistair still stood with his arms crossed though his glare was less, "What do you think, Alistair?"

"Very little I presume."

"Will you two stop needling each other!" I scolded her before sending Alistair an expectant look.

He pointedly ignored Morrigan's snort, "Denerim is definitely an unknown right now. Especially with the Queen being Loghain's daughter but getting to our compound may be best to get word to the other Wardens sooner rather than later."

"If I were Loghain, I would have whatever Grey Warden stations remaining secured under my control," Morrigan added.

Alistair, to his credit, pretended not to have heard her, "Orzammar will be a strong ally. The mages at Kinloch Hold are on the way. But we would pass Redcliffe to get to both as well. I still think Arl Eamon is our best bet for gaining allegiance among the other lords. We might even want to go to him first."

I realized they were both looking to me expectantly, waiting on my decision, "Why does it feel like you're leaving this up to me?"

"Arl Eamon is a good man but I'm not entirely sure Redcliffe is where we should go first," he stated as he shifted his weight. "I'm not going to fight about it. I'll go where you decide."

"Well, there's no surprise," Morrigan commented and I shot her a look to zip it. Like children I swear. Had they already been fighting while I was unconscious or hunting?

I rubbed at a knot at the back of my neck, "Redcliffe sounds like a good start. If he's as you say, it'd be smart to tell him what happened at Ostagar sooner than later." I motioned us forward again along the road. "You talk like you know him."

To my shock Alistair's jaw ticked and I thought he had finally run out of patience but the look he gave me was wary and lacking any heat he had earlier. "Well, he might've- sort have- raised me?"

I stumbled in shock, "Arl Eamon's your father?"

"No," he said pointedly, "I- sigh – alright, look. I'm a bastard. And before you go making jokes, I mean the fatherless kind." I watched on as his nerves grew, now looking anywhere but at me. "My mother, I'm told, was a servant in his castle and died in childbirth. He didn't have to take care of me, but he did."

"That was kind of him. And you don't know who your father was? Sure it's not Eamon?" I asked cautiously.

His jaw continued to tick despite the thin smile he sent me, "Not Eamon. I've been told who might be but he died even before I was born," he took a deep breath before continuing. "The point is he's a fair man with honor. He won't stand for Loghain's desertion."

"So, you were raised in a castle. That explains the cooking." I joked thinking of the overcooked ptarmigan we now carried.

He snorted, almost laughed, and a grin broke over his features. The realest one he'd given since before the battle. "You wound me, my lady," he shook his head, posture much more relaxed than before. "If you're envisioning silk bedding and private tutors, I'm afraid to burst your bubble. I slept in the stables and ate with the servants. He kept a roof over my head and allowed me meals from his kitchens. But I was still a common orphan."

He said all this with a lightness, but it only soured my mood further to the human world. I was orphaned too but I had Ashalle and the clan. He had a bed of straw next to the horses. The humans had no qualms with turning a blind eye to their own it seems.

He must've seen something in my face or heard it in the silence because he added, "Oh, don't worry. By ten I was at the Chantry for my Templar training."

"Templar?" he only responded with an amused raise of his eyebrow in question. This human, kind and lighthearted as he was, was trained to become that which killed so many of my people with cruel intent.

I saw the shock of realization dawn on his face, "I'm sorry I thought you knew. I didn't think. I imagine your people don't have any good experiences with Templars," he rushed nervously and mumbled to himself before continuing, "I trained but I was recruited before my vows."

I held up my hand to stop him. "No, it's fine," I started despite the reflexive nervousness at standing next to what could have been the cause of another dead clan member. Although, the human beside me felt as benign as one could be, "I assume the Templars hold a much different role in your world than they do mine."

"Probably not by much if I'm being honest. But the good part is I have the skills to use."

"I've only heard stories. Can you really stop a mage from using their magic?"

He nodded, "Not completely. It's more of a disruption of whatever spells they're currently casting. I can break effects. Though it gets much more difficult depending on the skill of the spell or the caster. It's one reason I was shocked when I was pulled from the front," my interest piqued when he led the conversation back to the battle. "We didn't have any mages among us, so I was basically on emissary-duty when one showed."

"That's why the one we fought in the Wilds stopped throwing any magic after we went after it," I scolded myself internally at only just now realizing the lack of fireballs being lobbed at us after Alistair engaged it.

"They're good for some things at least. I'm not as good as a vowed knight but I can protect us from getting our breeches set on fire."

Huh. Oh. Oh. "That mage from the temple- you weren't worried because- that makes so much sense now." He winked at me, obviously following my new train of thought. "Oh that was just mean."

This time he actually laughed though it was short, "I told you. Don't let those chantry robes and grandmotherly looks fool you. The Revered Mothers can be just as nasty as politicians."

The rest of the day was passed in relative silence. Alistair would slip back into his grief when not directly engaged. I was unsure if he knew how obvious his expressions played on his face, but I left him to his own. I tried engaging Morrigan but she effortlessly brushed off any attempt and I took the hint.