Disclaimer: I don't own A Song of Ice and Fire or Dragon Age

The Phoenix and the Griffin

Chapter 26: Nature of the Beast

"To my dearest family," was how some began their letters

"I send this ahead of my arrival, with the warning that I may not be the same girl who left."

"I may not carry myself the way you remember," Samwell played with that idea, but crossed it off and got another piece of paper for his letter.

Margaery however wrote freely, he cousins were a little uncertain but relayed their own thoughts to her and Mira had her own letter to write and wrote it with full confidence. The beauty of the Tyrell family smiled, basking in the light that shined through her window at Redcliffe. Arl Eamon was kind to the Westerosi children; Bann Teagan was even kinder and was a good host whilst his brother planned in his study. A modest supper was given each night, and Margaery and her handmaidens often enjoyed a pleasant lunch in the village tavern. Bella was a truly grand host, the battle against the Undead had hardened her, to the point she could throw unruly matrons out of her establishment. Not that there was anyone unruly at Redcliffe, it was a united community, unity through the shared tragedy that Margaery and her charges only saw the results of.

She sniffed the Andraste's grace given to her by Bevin, the boy was earnest and kind and bashful when Margaery kissed his forehead in gratitude. Each of the ladies of Westeros gave the boy a kiss when he returned with flowers for them. He eagerly swung a wooden sword with the militia, following their movements, showing a true dedication to training. Most boys dreamed of being knights, Bevin started with a goal, he wanted to squire for one man before he made his own name. His sister was sweet and showed the ladies around Redcliffe. Margaery had never made any friends amongst the small folk, she counted Kaitlyn as a friend to her now. She wasn't afraid to give her advice about seducing Teagan, Kaitlyn bashfully blushed and it was one of the few times Margaery and her cousins had been able to genuinely laugh. Likewise Kaitlyn laughed too. They were good times, innocent times, an escape from the tragedy that had come into their lives.

But still Margaery knew that she didn't truly understand, as her cousins didn't, the true threat lingering over the small folk. The fearful air that hung over Redcliffe was unlike anything Margaery had seen before, it surpassed those he had seen her father sentence to hanging or the wall. This dread was in their voices every time they spoke of 'the Blight' or 'Darkspawn', and what truly frightened her was that this fear was shared by the nobility and knights of Redcliffe too. Every soldier, drunkard, squire, farmer, latrine digger, priest and child shared the same fear, which was foreign to the foreign girls. Margaery began to believe that even lords as feared as Tywin Lannister, would come to know true fear by being in Thedas.

She looked out of her window from the castle and saw Robb Stark, his brother Bran and the Greyjoy on the field. Behind them stood a man with a vague resemblance to the more muscular boy standing next to him. Both were the cousins of Daylen Amell, Garret Hawke and Carver Hawke. Carver slightly resembled Dayk, though he was stockier and had a thicker chin; Garret was lanky and was in the process of growing a beard. The young man placed his hands on Robb and Theon's shoulders, a subtle shine glowing across his body.

"Okay boys, take deep breaths," he said and the three Westerosi did as they said.

Bran in particular breathed deeply, calming his heart. The light seemed to spread to the three of them, and they suddenly felt an aura pass over their bodies.

"Four schools of magic, primal, entropy, spirit, and what you're experiencing is creation, the Heroic aura," Garret explained.

"Are you sure about this brother?" Carver asked.

"Completely, just be ready," Garret grinned.

Carver clicked his neck from side to side as another light shined over the Stark siblings and Theon. The younger Hawke broke off into a run across the field and Garret pushed the three Westerosi forward.

"Go on, COME ON WESTEROSI!" Garret yelled.

They each felt a burst of energy through their muscles, yet their feet and arms felt weightless as they ran across the grass. Carver grit his teeth together as the three passed him.

"I'm not going to lose to a bunch of rich pricks," he said.

"This Westerosi, is Haste," Garret ran alongside the trio, but astonishingly did so backwards and barefoot.

His showing off didn't last long as he fell into a heap, his brother falling over him. Bran laughed with a joy he hadn't felt since arriving in Thedas, the trauma he experienced was buried for a moment, the fear of his own magic was eased for just a moment. On the other side of the village, Daylen and Alistair stood out of their armour, waiting for Jon to finish changing in one of the huts.

"The Black Fox, it doesn't really work for him does it?" Alistair asked.

"I would have considered him more of a white wolf, but that's taken," Daylen muttered.

"It was nice of your cousin to give us those gifts, nice of us not to ask her where she got them," Alistair chuckled.

"Yeah, I suppose it is," Daylen smirked before he raised his hand to his eye.

"Can you see anything at all?"

"Some days, when I use blood magic it heals it only slightly, but inevitably I will go blind in this eye even with magic," Daylen said.

"It would be difficult to be a warrior with a blind spot," Alistair said.

"Unless I train to compensate for it," Daylen retorted.

"Always thinking ahead, or…seeing ahead," the former templar grinned.

"Hilarious," Daylen commented dryly.

"How long is it going to take him to put armour on, it isn't as if its full plate, did you give him the full plate?" Alistair asked.

"No, I thought him more of a rogue so I gave him that item pack," Daylen said.

"I'm finished," Jon's voice came from the hut.

He walked out, his metal boots clanking as he adjusted the straps of his leather armour. It was a suit of fine leather armour, one side grey with metal scales on it and the other side yelled, to compensate for this the top part of the armour had a chainmail hood over it. The suit was designed by someone who went by the name Coinheart and had been called the Rascal's scale. What was unique about it was that lyrium had been weaved into it. Jon also carried a bow titled 'Hood's message to the king', the ends of the bow had edges like stag antlers.

"You didn't keep the daggers?" Alistair asked.

"I was trained to fight with a sword," Jon retorted.

"You were good at the keep, but Brecillian Forest will be different," Daylen picked up two swords from the ground, the Dar'Misan he kept for himself and the long sword he threw to Jon.

Jon tested the weight of the blade as Sten walked over, shirtless with Qunari ink over his chest and two swords in his hand.

"You had a capable instructor bastard," though Sten spoke the title with no malice, it still made Jon angry. "But a fight will not go the way a spar in a castle courtyard will go," suddenly Sten dragged his sword across the ground, flinging dust into Jon's eyes.

Sten then swung his left sword at Jon, only for Daylen to deflect the blow and shove Jon out of Sten's range.

"Elements will be used against you, even with allies to defend you, likewise you may be concerned for your allies," Sten said as he circled Daylen, attacking his blind area.

Jon blocked Sten's follow up swing, feeling his sword rattle at the impact of the Kossith's blow. Both Wardens clambered and struggled as Sten showed shocking speed for a man his size. Jon blocked a strike to Daylen's neck and Daylen tripped him, helping him to avoid Sten's second swing.

"A battlefield is chaotic, a blow may come from any angle, and your enemies may be more than one. And as you Bas are lost and chaotic yourselves, you will inevitably turn on one another," Sten explained.

And at that moment, much to Jon's shock, Daylen swung at him. Robb and Theon had been recovering from their run with ale when Samwell suddenly ran towards them. The lardy boy gasped and panted, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

"Seven hells Tarly where have you been, what is it?" Robb asked.

"Jon, Daylen…Jon, Daylen…"he wheezed.

"What is it Tarly, out with it," Theon said.

"Jon and Daylen are fighting," Samwell said.

A moment passed before the three boys sprawled to get up off of the grass. Carver and Garret exchanged looks of curiosity, and then Garret struck his brother in the groin, running after the Starks. The younger Hawke shoved past Garret and joined a few villagers in watching the sparring session. They formed a growing circle, Bevin squeezing through the crowds whilst Oghren shoved his way through. Sparks from their swords dropped to the floor as the two men clashed weapons. Jon made a feint stab, and Daylen diverted his guard to block.

"Ten Sovereigns on the bastard," one of the villagers said.

"Which one?" asked another with a laugh.

"Two coppers on Daylen," Zevran said.

"Two coppers, seriously, who makes a bet like that?"

"Perhaps you are right, boldness is rewarded, three coppers on my friend," the assassin grinned.

"Notice how he's fighting?" Oghren asked Leliana.

"He's keeping Jon on the side his eye was injured on, he's giving himself a handicap," Leliana said.

"He's training," Sten corrected.

Jon stepped to the side, an action Daylen mimicked in the opposite direction. Daylen parried and pushed forward and Jon shoved back, his style becoming more aggressive. He struck with a blow that made Daylen's sword shake. The mage stumbled back, sliding his feet into a crouched pose. As he rose, he dragged his hand across the dirt. Then their swords clashed again, Daylen pushed his wrist against the flat of his sword, pushing Jon's arms towards his chest. They both stepped to the side, Jon knocking his elbow into Daylen's ear and Daylen throwing the dust he grabbed into Jon's face.

"Snow's better than him isn't he?" Bevin asked.

Teagan placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Jon has the advantage of being instructed by a skilled and experienced fighter, Daylen's only watched the Templars train. Daylen has faced one battle after another, and he's taken key lessons about different fighting styles from each of his companions, that side step is Zevran's, that shove is Alistair's, the targeted swing is Sten's…" he winced as the crowd groaned in sympathy "that head butt is Oghren's, in terms of raw talent Jon Snow has the advantage, but talent only gets you so far. There is another advantage Jon has, look at their chests, their mouths, noses, you might notice it," the Bann explained.

Bevin narrowed his eyes as Daylen and Jon dragged their blades together. Jon took a step back and Daylen walked to the side, one maintaining steady rises of his chest, and the other huffing and puffing.

"Breathing, it's their breathing," Bevin said.

"Good eye lad, whoever instructed Jon Snow is a good fighter, or at the least a competent one, like running or lifting you have to maintain a good rhythm of breath or you'll tire yourself out. But even that can sometimes not be enough," Teagan explained.

He finished his explanation just as Jon and Daylen stopped their blades inches from one another's throats. They only pulled their blades away when a single person began to clap, moving through the crowd. Eamon was dressed in full armour, red leather and silver plates, furs were set in his collar area.

"Well done, Daylen Amell, I can see your strength has improved, as has your skill and you Jon Snow show the talent deserving of one whom joins the Grey Wardens. We are close to the day that we can go to Denerim, my knights return day by day, the representative of Orzammar has just arrived and the mage representative is expected in a few days," the Arl explained.

"We will not be there to welcome them my lord," Daylen said.

"Forget the formalities, you saved my family, you saved our homes," Eamon said and the crowd cheered in agreement.

"And I will need to do more than that, to save Denerim, the nation and the continent from the Darkspawn," Daylen said.

He put the sword back on the pile and walked out of the crowd, to the disappointment of the people.

"He appreciates it, but Daylen has more to do, that's his dedication to you all," Leliana said.

"You have a way of painting a fine picture," Alistair muttered.

"They understand, heavy is the head that wears the crown," Eamon said.

The Arl looked at Alistair as he said this, which had not gone unnoticed by Leliana. She knew who Alistair was, who his father was and what his birth right could potentially be. Wardens could be lords and kings, they didn't abandon their birth rights after the joining. It was also possible for a Landsmeet to declare a bastard a legitimate child and to declare them king. There were no other heirs to the kingdom, and though Anora was loved and a decent ruler, she was still Loghain's daughter.

"He is dedicating himself to finding the allies needed to stop the Darkspawn, even if it means he doesn't stop and bask in the glory or the praise, much like Loghain in a way," Eamon said.

"Don't compare them, Loghain betrayed and abandoned the Wardens and King Cailan," Alistair said.

"Calm yourself Alistair, I knew Loghain at a time before he had the responsibility of leading a city state. Much like Daylen he was a brave and intelligent fighter, ruthless when he needed to be, using his anger to fight. And kind in a sense too, he loves his people, as Daylen seems to love our people," Teagan explained.

"He loves everyone," Leliana whispered.

There was a sadness in her words, it confused Jon though because he and his brothers had heard what Daylen and Morrigan would do in their tent. There were small moments when Daylen was warm with Morrigan, but he could also be cold to her. It seemed there was more affection, if hesitant, between Daylen and Leliana, yet they never kissed or bedded one another. Jon looked towards the leader, his commander, and saw that Daylen was already in his armour. The companions each began to change into their armour. When they were finished, Robb and Theon were waiting in their armour and carrying their weapons.

"Not this time Robb Stark," Daylen said.

"I swore that I would help you for helping my brother," Robb said.

"You swore to repay me if it was within your power, and I said such a thing is unnecessary and that the last thing I want to do is put the son of Eddard Stark in danger, you too Theon," Daylen added and Theon nodded.

"You've shown a kindness to my family already, I cannot stand by as my brother journeys with you and a debt we owe you goes unpaid," Robb explained.

"Him coming with us is repaying the debt," Oghren said.

"For once the dwarf speaks intelligently, there's no need to add a boy and a fool to our journey," Morrigan said.

"Which one is the fool?" Theon demanded.

Morrigan rolled her eyes whilst Zevran suppressed the urge to laugh.

"Please, let me fight with you and my brother, I swear I will not be in your way," Robb said.

"Your word is apparently something important to you Stark's right? Fine, you'll accompany us, but you won't talk when we meet the Dalish, that goes especially for you Greyjoy. And if I give an order you obey it is that clear?" Daylen asked and Robb nodded.

"You retreat when I tell you to, you run and hide if I tell you to, because if you die seeking glory then I will not bear the responsibility is that clear?"

"Yes lord commander," Robb said with genuine enthusiasm and Daylen slapped his forehead.

"Not a lord commander, but good," Daylen said.

"Why do the Westerosi add Lord-Commander?" Alistair asked.

"That is nothing, in Antiva we add 'Majestic-Holy-Lord-Grand-Commander' to our titles," Zevran said.

"Really?"

"No of course not, why would we need to inflate egos, we're not Orlais!"

"I would defend my old home Zevran, if what you said wasn't true," Leliana said.

"So where are our horses?" Theon asked.

"Did we have horses when we found you?"

"No!"

"Did we have them when we went to Warden's keep?"

"No Lady Wynn."

"Wynn will do, I'm no lady, though I appreciate you're putting effort into being polite young Greyjoy," Wynn said.

"But wouldn't horses help with your crooked hips?"

"Theon!" Robb chided him.

"Oh please boy, you don't need to protect me from this squid, one would think he would have learnt his lesson about humility though I can only imagine his father still hasn't," Wynn explained.

"What do you know of my father?" Theon demanded.

"Daylen would sometimes read his letters regarding the Greyjoy rebellion, the defeat of Balon Greyjoy and the ultimate humiliation his grandfather Fausten exposed the would be king to, 'we do not sow'," Wynn scoffed.

"In short no we're not using horses, unless you want to ride Alpha," Alistair said and the Mabari growled.

Within their first day of travel the Westerosi, Jon included, struggled to keep to the pace that Daylen set. They kept up better than any child of South Westeros would though, Ferelden's rough terrain was a match for the North. So on the second day, they kept up the pace and even set a pace of their own. Walking to places though was not something they were used to, Robb was the first to notice blisters on his feet. They ate well with Theon though, not many of the company liked his attitude but none denied that he was a good archer. He made shots Leliana couldn't and was a better tracker. As they cooked a deer that Theon caught, the company looked over the map of the Brecilian forest.

"The clan that aided us, Sabrae, left about a week ago apparently," Daylen said.

"Without trying to find their missing hunters?" Jon asked.

"Tensions are high, part of the country is fighting each other, Eamon told me the young heir of Highever Cousland is gathering forces. There was some kind of incident in Denerim with the elven alienage, as for Sabrae, those hunters killed humans local to the villages surrounding the forest," Alistair explained.

"They would not take the deaths of their kin lightly, and the elves must prioritise the rest of their clan," Robb said.

"Exactly, they may talk of the clan being family but when they're against difficult odds they've fold their ideals for survival," Zevran said.

"If we start at first light we'll be there by midday, we'll need to be properly rested, I'll take first watch with Theon, Morrigan and Sten will follow, then Alistair and Robb," Daylen stated.

Theon set his arrows on the ground, extinguishing some of the flames on the camp fire with dirt. He looked at the elven bow and admired the craftsmanship, it was finer than anything the north produced yet still remained practical. Lord Stark had never been outright cruel to elves, but he preferred to keep the Dalish off of his lands. Theon's had been too young to really remember how elves were treated in the Iron islands, his best recollection of encountering elves were the few elven servants at Winterfell and a whore named Ros. Then there was the visits from Fausten Amell, his page Stork, tall and lanky, a witty elf who showed the Winterfell youths archery talent they'd never seen before. He looked towards the mage who shared the Amell name, looking at him intensively.

"You probably won't find it," Daylen suddenly said, popping Theon's concentration.

"Find what?" the lad asked.

"A resemblance, between myself and my brothers, Dayla's apparently fair haired," Daylen muttered.

"She is, I wish I could say she is a great beauty but…" Theon's voice drifted.

"She's too much like my mother," Daylen said.

"Actually I'd call your mother a great beauty," Theon said.

Daylen narrowed his eyes at Theon, tightening his grip on his staff. Theon gulped slightly, hands drifting to his bow with a slight shake. A small smirk crossed Daylen's mouth before he began to chuckle lightly, the Greyjoy boy joining him soon after.

"Your mother is a force in Westeros, she slapped the crown prince, cut her own hand off and threw it at the Queen's feet," he stated.

"I know, but then again the boy is a cruel and spiteful little creature, though hopefully the experience changed him," Daylen said.

"Lady Catelyn would have us believe no one can change," Theon said.

"Is that what she says of Jon, or you?" Daylen asked.

The question shocked Theon slightly. He was about to make a retort, some kind of defiant but utterly useless remark when the golem rattled its feet.

"Has it occurred to it at all that I do not require sleep, thus I can always be the watcher?" Shale asked.

"That….didn't actually occur to me, you really don't sleep?" Daylen asked.

"Many months we have travelled together, when have you ever seen me close my eyes and snore?"

"A few times, you seemed to enjoy it," Daylen said.

"I did, though sleep is not required I do close my eyes and picture all the parasitic vermin birds being squashed under my heel, the great bird purge I shall call it," Shale explained.

"Change of plans then, Shale's the night watchman…er, woman from now on," Daylen shrugged his shoulders and chuckled.

"Why did you pick me to take first watch?" Theon asked.

"I suspect it wished to speak with the little squid regarding the squid's father's spectacularly humiliating defeat at the hands of its grandfather," Shale said.

Theon looked at Daylen with an insulted expression. To his credit Daylen didn't look as if he was going to deny it. He motioned for Theon to come to him, crouching near his bag. Daylen unravelled a few pieces of parchment, handing them to Theon. The boy had learnt to read not from his father or any Maestar in the iron islands, but alongside Robb and Jon. Maestar Luwin was a hard teacher, unafraid to make any kind of jape about Theon's heritage. Whatever anger Theon had for him still had an air of gratefulness to it, reading was a good skill to have. Bad hand writing though seemed to be something the Amell's had in common; Theon had seen the letters Daylen tried to write and had seen better characters from Rickon. As Theon focused on the letters though he began to see patterns, enough to understand what was one particular letter.

To my nephew

I am sorry I have not written to you. Westeros expects me to run father's land, your grandfather has more than a few years left in him. No, my time will be dedicated to walking the path I wish to walk. The path of a warrior, of a knight. Yet, more and more I wonder, is the path of the knight truly the righteous. I will not lie to you Daylen, I have witnessed many atrocities in Westeros, yet this is supposedly a time of peace. Lords executing men for the smallest things, and the way they treat women, as if mere possessions. I had seen lords wear the faces of reasonable men, even be called honourable men. Yet I see no true honour, I see no honour in the kingsguard, even the great Barristan the bold.

Yes, he is a fantastic fighter. Yet the man claims allegiance to a crown, a crown and nothing more. What if the crown is worn by a man unworthy of it, what if you are commanded to kill the innocent. No, I search for another way, a different wow.

I am sorry to have troubled you with this letter, I hope your studies are going well.

With love

Damion

Theon looked at Daylen in surprise, the warden's face unreadable and as patient as the many times his companions had argued or clashed verbally. The letter itself was a surprise to Theon because of who had written it. Some might perceive the opinions of the dead Amell heir as treason, this letter being the prelude to his defiance against the Baratheons and Starks. But the doubts detailed in the letter were what shocked Theon the most. He heard stories of the Amells, all so certain and confident to the point they could be called pretentious or arrogant. Others had praised them for this, heralding them as the ideal lords, the people's lords. To see the doubts from Damion Amell too was a surprise; Theon heard the small folk of the Iron islands call him their hero, more so than any iron king.

To Daylen

Long I have wondered, what honour is, what a code is. What is worth fighting for in this world? I hope this letter reaches you.

When you have an ideal, you should stand by it. For that is the true test of an ideal. When whatever is after us comes to pass, will you say that you did not act because honour and righteousness was not convenient at the time? This is not acceptable, in the eyes of the maker, or to your ideals.

I hope you are well, and I hope you remain true to what you believe is right

With love from your uncle

Damion Amell

This was the letter that made Theon believe, yes this is Damion Amell, this is the man whom stood against many men and protected the people. The certainty of his words seemed like a man whom had figured it all out. What ideal had Balon Greyjoy stood for? Was the briefest of wonders Theon had before he thought of his houses words 'we do not sow'. Then he remembered the mocking, no, the truth that some of Daylen's companions spoke to him. The humiliation of his father and the dismissal of the words was something Theon could not ignore, and not stop thinking about.

To Daylen

War broke out in the Iron islands. King Robert sent out the call and the Amells answered.

A man I met today told me that there is a savage beast in every man, and when you hand that man a sword or spear and send him forth to war, the beast stirs. The scent of blood is all it takes to wake him.

Damion is dead. He died protecting the weak.

His life at least had meaning. He saved many lives, living up to the ideal of hero that I wished to follow. You have a cousin, Aristanna, we have gained new friends in the Meadow.

His life had meaning

With love from Fausten

Theon looked to Daylen as he finished reading, he could see there was a slight shine in Daylen's eyes. The very thought of the content of the letters was something that filled Daylen with sadness.

"What was the humiliation that my father suffered?" Theon asked.

"What Fausten…my grandfather, advised Robert to do to Balon was to give him a choice. Three choices, four if you count losing his head, join the nights watch, exile; leave Westeros and the iron islands forever on his boats, or keep his power, but to keep his power he would need to do several things. He could never build ships suited to war, only fishing, no imports or exports, he of course had to give his heir as a hostage but my grandfather advised for your sister to be given as a hostage too and then there was the final condition, under witness, Balon would have to plant a field," Daylen explained.

"He…sowed," Theon muttered.

He imagined his father sweating and breaking his back on that field, doing the work of a servant, which was what he remembered Balon always saying the Greyjoys weren't.

'We do not sow, we are Ironborn, we're not subjects, we're not slaves, we do not plough the fields or toil in the mine, we take what is ours, we pay the iron price,' these words Theon remembered.

And presented with the revelations, with the letters and the story of Balon Greyjoy's humiliating work on the field Theon realised what had mattered to Balon Greyjoy. His brothers had died for the Iron born ideal, his people had died for the Iron born ideal, his uncles exiled and he and his sister imprisoned by men honour bound to execute them if their father did wrong. Yet Balon had the option, exile, the nights watch, either way his children would have stayed with him or become leaders of the Iron islands. But he picked the way that enabled him to remain lord of the Iron islands. He who kneeled could rise again with blade in hand, but who amongst the islanders would fight for a lord who couldn't protect them, what lord would respect a man who didn't live by his ideals, or die by them if need be.

It was not quite the moment that Theon Greyjoy ultimately changed, but it would play an important role.

Each night that Aristanna slept she saw possibility. She saw a plan fail because of a mind gone demented from age. It was a fate she hoped had not befallen her grandfather. But she also saw another fate for one of her grandfather's friends. Stork was either part of Fausten's most brilliant plan yet, or a tragic piece fallen to betrayal. In that regard all Aristanna had was hope. But for her cousin she saw something else, the choices he would make that would define the course of his life. These choices would drive him to the breaking point, to the limit of his sanity. He would throw himself onto the edge of darkness, yet cling to his ideals. He would die by his ideals or if need be live by them.

"Are you all right Mi'lady?" Aristanna looked towards her mother's handmaiden, Kira.

She had seen her too in her dreams, seen her embrace a lion knight, or a knight of griffin wings. Everything that Aristanna saw was possibility, even she could not discern which story she told was true.

"I am fine," she put on a smile.

"So continue, finish the story," commanded little Robert Arryn.

"Please Lady Amell, please finish, what happens?" Tommen asked.

"The hero looked into the eyes of the flame haired beauty, no words were spoken between them because all they had been through together was enough, she tilted his chin so that he would stand proud and their lips joined in a kiss of truest love," Aristanna explained.

Myrcella blushed and smiled at the end of Aristanna's tale.

"No good, no good, it needs a moon door," little Robert, or was it Robin? Maybe there needed to be a distinction.

"I liked it when the hero slew the dragon whilst riding his battle beast," Tommen, such a nice boy who didn't deserve anything that might befall him, to give up on life…no, his end could not be so simple, so wasteful, so lazy.

"It was a lovely story Aristanna, I'm glad they finally found each other," Myrcella, another whom didn't deserve their, possible fate.

"Truly another fine tale my lady," Tyrion said as he walked into the room.

"Come to join us Lord Tyrion?" Aristanna asked.

"It is a tempting offer, but I am afraid I must refuse, I was hoping I could borrow you for a moment my lady," Tyrion said and Aristanna nodded.

She stood, smiling when the children let out disappointed sighs.

"I will return, this I promise," she said and followed Tyrion with Kira.

They made their way to the gardens, Tyrion making sure they were nowhere near where the gardeners were working. There were no servants to watch them or give them anything. Even Tyrion's bodyguards were absent.

"Ah this is more like it, Lady Aristanna, you may only hear whispers but there has been an unsavoury situation with the elves in light of the disappearance of the Stark and Tyrell heirs," Tyrion explained.

"I am aware of this, my knowledge of it is as much as yours lord Tyrion, though I suppose one can hear quite a lot in a brothel," Aristanna said and Kira coughed, resisting the urge to laugh.

"Indeed, I did not mean to imply that I was better informed or you were ignorant, I'm new to strategy, there was never really a need for it until people started claiming that magic was real."

"Magic is real!"

Tyrion was taken aback by the sudden fierce tone Aristanna had taken on. He tried to scoff and take on a joking tone, but Aristanna's eyes were narrowed in a fury that told the Lannister that she would have none of his sarcasm or denials, there was no agreeing to disagree with her. Her tone calmed however when she took a breath and closed her eyes, when she opened them after a beat, there was a sincerity Tyrion only saw from his niece and nephew.

"Neither of us know what is beyond the wall, we can only accept what we believe based upon what information is given to us. Likewise we only have the information given to us regarding Thedas, I do not…truly know what is in my homeland, but my father was no liar, my aunt is no liar, or do you believe them to be mad Lord Tyrion?" then he saw something that frightened him, an intelligent and somewhat intimidating posture from the Amell girl that reminded Tyrion of his father.

Her question was in itself a challenge, challenges of wit were Tyrion's forte, and he had no idea his father's feelings regarding the magic of Thedas. That in the end was all he could base his actions off of, what would father do? Yet he had no answer for Aristanna's logic, no witty retort. Instead he changed the subject and focused again on why he had brought her and the handmaiden out of sight.

"There is trouble in the Meadow my lady, I believe you cousin is out of his depth," he said.

"My cousin married for love and has always been kind to the small folk, this we know, but the nobility still know to be weary of us," Aristanna said.

"They have no problem with your family, the issue I believe is with Revion himself, he has governed his lands well and the Meadow has never been richer than it is now. But the recent shift of Dalish clans into that region has led to some troubling reports, people have moved away from the Meadow, or towards it, so far I've heard twelve mercenaries at the brothel speak of lords hiring them in the Meadow, what's more merchants from the Meadow have come to King's landing, not to seek more opportunity, but to seek safety," Tyrion explained.

"But there's another reason you know that there is trouble in the Meadow don't you?" Aristanna asked.

"Astute, yes I do, your cousin and I exchange certain pieces of information, I have my ear to the ground in the capital and he simply tells me how things are in the Meadow," Tyrion stated.

"And how are things in the Meadow from Revion's perspective?"

"That is what is troubling me my lady, he speaks as if unrest amongst the nobility is part of his plan," Tyrion said and Aristanna turned away.

"Thank you for your concern my lord," she said.

"It is a concern of mine, Revion was a friend to me, he gave me a gift not many would have," Tyrion said.

"He was always kind," Aristanna smiled.

"Never believe too much in a person's sincerity my lady," Tyrion said.

She didn't ask for a further explanation, because part of her still struggled with what was real. That night she slept and dreamed, dreamed of a family member turning cruel. She dreamt of fire and rage in the eyes of a cousin whom began to slaughter elves. She saw a werewolf with red fur, ripping out the throat of an elf mage. She saw a city burning, monsters filling it and an army of wolves defending it.

Ferelden

"Spiders, fucking giant spiders again," Theon muttered.

"I considered those ones quite petite," Zevran said.

"Those were small ones?"

"He's teasing you Theon," Wynn said.

"Or is he?" Oghren chuckled.

"Is such a thing truly common?" Robb asked.

"Oh yeah, this is just Thursday for us," Alistair said.

"That is a tease Robb," Leliana said.

The group walked towards the Brecilian forest. They had had their encounters on the road, travellers fleeing places devastated by the Blight, as well as people warning them not to go near the forest. Not because of the Dalish, but something far, far fiercer that had even eaten hunters out there. Jon presumed it was wild animals, bears or wolves, but after encountering the spiders that made a small clearing their home he began to rethink the dismissal. It had taken them much longer to leave the spider's nest than they anticipated.

Daylen's companions had been annoyed by the three boys, Leliana and Wynn were kinder but even they looked at their leader with scepticism. This was because of how the three Westerosi reacted when they, under Daylen's orders cut bodies out of the cocoons the spiders had prepared. The spiders would be victims had been suffocated within the cocoons, some even eaten by smaller spiders over time. Robb heaved, Jon had to collect himself and Theon vomited. Yet it reminded them of the severity of what they were doing.

"Giant spiders usually stick to caves or the Deep roads," Wynn said.

"Occasionally we'd have an infestation at the tower, some poor apprentice would go missing in the storage caverns," Daylen said.

"Generally though they don't move about in the day light or migrate across fields, they're acting out of the ordinary," Leliana said.

"It's the Blight, Duncan said it isn't just the Darkspawn we'd need fear. The taint can affect the land, killing crops and twisting the scenery into an image of Darkspawn corruption. Jon was fortunate he didn't become a ghoul, a decaying thrall seeking out the horde and victims. Even animals can become mutated," Alistair explained and Alpha barked.

"I don't want to find out what happens to dogs," Daylen muttered.

Each member of the group went on their guard when they entered the forest. There was an eerie silence that wasn't like what they had heard from it before. It was as if all creatures in the forest had stopped, no birds sang, no fish in the streams skipped, nothing so much as a twig snapped. They advanced, Theon and Leliana keeping their bows at the ready. Leliana drifted closer to Theon, whispering a warning into his ear.

"We are being watched," she said.

He tried to see them but couldn't, though there was a slight shift of bushes. Zevran also seemed to see what Leliana had, slowly drawing a knife from his belt.

"Are we being flanked?" Robb asked.

"Not ambushed, watched," Sten said.

Ahead they saw them, elves with bare feet and armour and weapons that seemed like they had come from the forest itself. One of them, a woman stepped away from her group and looked towards Daylen, whom was already at the front.

"Stop right there outsider," the elf woman said. "The Dalish have camped in this spot, I suggest you go elsewhere and quickly."

Though it wasn't said with a civil tone, the warning was a much different first impression than what Lewyn had taught them to expect of the Dalish. Even though Lewyn bore them no ill will, he still considered them uncivilised in comparison to the Westerosi. Of course, Eddard Stark had taught them to be weary of anyone whom hadn't proven themselves a friend, and to act honourably.

"Actually I've been looking for the Dalish," Daylen said.

"I find that hard to believe, what business could we Dalish possibly have with a group like yours?" she asked.

"Group like ours," Oghren grumbled.

"I am a Grey Warden, I wish to speak with your leader," Daylen said and the woman tilted her head sceptically.

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" she asked.

"Have you heard anything of what's going on out there? How many people these days would claim to be Grey Wardens?" Daylen asked and the elf nodded.

"That is true, we have heard of the Shemlen hunting Wardens, perhaps though I will have the Keeper decide for himself. In the camp I suggest you keep your hands to yourself and remember that our arrows are still trained on you, follow me," she explained, motioning for Daylen and the group to follow.

They were being flanked, by archers and warriors whom made themselves visible as a show of force.

"The silence in the forest, was this somehow your doing?" Daylen asked.

"Silence?" she narrowed her eyes slightly, the blue orbs lighting up in realisation. "No, there are dangers beyond us in the forest Warden."

"What do you mean?" Robb asked.

"Monsters human, real monsters, the Keeper will tell you more!"

They took a few steps before stopping as a sound echoed through the forest. It was the howl of a wolf.

Next Chapter 27: Burden of the beast

Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.

These next few chapters of course cover the Nature of the beast main quest line, no skipping to Fausten, net few will be a Ferelden focus arc.

Some will probably say Daylen taking Robb and Theon with him is stupid, I agree, that's the point, as this chapter I hope shows he isn't all knowing, new to leadership he'll make mistakes. But even mistakes can have opportunities in them, and developing moments for Daylen and other characters.