Chapter 96: Learning

"You were one of Witherfang's. A werewolf."

I could feel Alistair shift at my back, and Aedan took a protective half-step forward.

I suddenly felt like I'd been transported into a teen romance novel instead of a fantasy RPG.

A bitter smile passed across his lips, and he visibly relaxed his tense shoulders, keeping his hands up and away from his weapons.

"Yes, I was. I was there, when ... the Lady died."

"I am-"

He cut me off. "Don't say you're sorry." His tone was clipped, his voice louder than I expected, and at my flinch, he struggled to control himself again. When he spoke next, it was quiet, subdued. "You did as she asked. I do not blame you for it, though for some of us, it was not the freedom we had expected."

"Please, Stormwalker-"

"Wulf."

"Wulf?" I blinked, confused.

"I needed a first name. One that people could use. I chose Wulf. Short for Mornwulf Stormwalker. I liked the irony."

" ... okay. Wulf, please, would you come inside with us? We should talk, and I think Duncan should be there, and it will all be a lot easier if we can sit down, and maybe have something to eat?" I was babbling, but I couldn't seem to stop.

His gaze strayed to the open portcullis of the castle's gate, and for a moment I thought he'd run. Not that we'd have chased him, or stopped him, but the longing to get away was clear on his face. His expression was vulnerable, in that moment, and I wondered exactly how young Wulf was.

After a moment, though, he clenched his jaw and turned his fascinating, but slightly creepy eyes back to me. He nodded, once, reluctantly, and pushed off the wall to follow me inside.

Aedan ran ahead to find Duncan, and I flagged down a servant in the hallway, requesting that a light meal for 'five Grey Wardens' be brought into the library. I knew the four of us could always eat, and looking at Wulf, he hadn't been eating that well in a while. Alistair, still clearly nervous, stayed close to me as we walked, and I took comfort from his warm presence against my side. The library was empty when we arrived, and I gestured to a chair for Wulf, while Alistair and I took the sofa.

We sat in silence, Wulf examining the bookshelves around him with some interest. I took the opportunity to inspect him in more detail. He was dirty, obviously not having had a bath for some time. Not that it was a surprise – armed elves wandering around Ferelden were unlikely to get a hospitable reception anywhere that a bath tub was to be found. His armour was even worse than I'd originally thought, half of it held together with nothing more than leather straps.

He shifted uncomfortably, and I realised he'd caught me staring. I flushed and looked away, drawing a confused, concerned glance from Alistair. I was saved from having to explain by the arrival of Aedan and Duncan, with food being brought in on their heels.

I introduced Wulf to Duncan, and then we settled in to eat in silence for a few minutes. I'd been right in my assumption; Wulf was starving, polishing off a Warden meal and then some. Finally finished stuffing ourselves, Duncan turned his gaze on Wulf.

"I'm interested to hear how you ended up as a werewolf, if you'll indulge us, Wulf."

He grimaced, but nodded. "My parents were Dalish, I think. Or perhaps servants travelling with a caravan; I have no way of knowing. I don't remember my life from before. From what I was able to piece together later, we were attacked by werewolves in the Brecilian Forest. I was bitten, and somehow got left behind when the others fled – or maybe they were killed. I can only assume they thought I was dead."

"How old were you?" I was horrified.

"I don't know. Perhaps six? I turned, and for several years – I don't know how long, really – I ran with a pack of young werewolves, mindless, acting on instincts. And then the Lady found me."

He sighed. "Race didn't matter when we were all werewolves, but being the only former elf, I was small. The others protected me, kept me safe until I finished growing. I found a family with the Lady and Swiftrunner."

"And then we came." I felt guilty, despite knowing we'd made the best choice we could at the time.

"Yes. And you released us from our 'curse'. Only, while the others had somewhere to go – back to families, or to a new human settlement they are building bordering the Brecilian – I was an elf. There was no place for me.

"I travelled for a while; I went to the Dalish, who tried to accept me, but I didn't fit in. I didn't know their history, didn't have Vallaslin ... I was an outsider. Keeper Lanaya offered to try to find my clan after the Blight ended, but we can't even be sure my parents were Dalish. And even then, I'd still be different. I learned to hunt, to fight without claws and teeth, but finally I left them. I tried to go to the village of former werewolves, only to discover that race matters very much to those without fur. I didn't fit in, again."

"And now you are here," Aedan finished. "Looking to join the Grey Wardens, Blake said?"

"The Dalish told stories of the Grey Wardens. Brave, honourable, good fighters. That they have a purpose, and take anyone, whether human or elven."

The four of us exchanged glances. I didn't know what Duncan was thinking, but the other three of us were pained. The poor kid deserves better than an early death, after all he's been through. Even if it's not as early as it once was.

"I-" Alistair, Aedan and I all spoke at once, and I nodded at Aedan that he should continue. "Wulf, being a Warden ... it's dangerous work. Fighting darkspawn for the rest of your life isn't exactly a picnic. And there's no taking it back – you're stuck being a Warden forever." He looked apologetically at Duncan, then cleared his throat and continued despite the glare he received in return. "If I had a choice, if I had known ... well, I'm not sure this is what I'd do. You should really rethink-"

He was interrupted by a low growl, so canine-sounding I almost had to look to make sure he hadn't transformed back. "Rethink," Wulf scoffed. "I've done nothing but, since I became elven again. But answer me this – where else should I go? To an Alienage, to be treated like a servant, not allowed to carry weapons or defend myself? Back to the Dalish, where I will be an outsider forever, not permitted to marry or have a family myself? I am a wolf, not a sheep, and I am prepared for whatever sacrifice this life requires. At least my choice would be my own."

We exchanged glances again, and finally Duncan spoke. "I'm not saying no, but I'm not saying yes. We need Grey Wardens, Maker knows, but I must be sure you are appropriate. If you truly wish to Join, you will travel with us as a companion as we head to Denerim. We will talk, and I will evaluate your skills, and I may choose to recruit you. That's the best I can offer."

Wulf agreed, reluctant and maybe a little bitter; Aedan took him down to the village to purchase him some better armour, as well as clothing and whatever other supplies he needed. We introduced him to the group at supper, and everyone welcomed him warmly. They started peppering him with questions about being a werewolf, which he answered with a barely polite monosyllable as often as possible, and after a while everyone got the hint and quit pestering him. We found him accommodations at the castle, and he went to his room early.

Leaving in the morning took, figuratively, forever. First we had to wait for Isolde to finish packing, then for her things to be put onto carts, then for the few horses in Eamon's stables to be harnessed to a carriage for Isolde, Connor, and Eamon. Teagan and Theron rode, Blake riding in front of Theron's saddle, and I imagined they might be relieved not to be riding in the carriage also. The rest of us were on foot, as usual, but given that the carts and carriage could only travel at any sort of speed on snow-packed roads, half the time walking was going to be faster than riding anyway. A templar accompanied us on horseback, presumably to watch over Connor; Wynne and the mage tutor assigned to Connor travelled in the carriage.

With all the delays, we only made a few miles the first day before stopping early to have Eamon's pavilion set up. Our group set up camp nearby but separate, for which I was thankful; even so, we could still hear Isolde complaining about her accommodations, demanding to know why we weren't staying with whatever minor noble lived nearby. I almost laughed at Eamon having to justify it, but not being able to trust anyone not to turn us in was no laughing matter.

Teagan and Theron abandoned Eamon and Isolde at their first opportunity to join us by our fire with our simple tents. Blake came with them and fell asleep cuddled up to me by the fire; Alistair carried him carefully to his own bedroll near Theron's when everyone went to bed.

We made slightly better time for the next several days, as Eamon had put his foot down and refused to allow the Arlessa to unpack much off the carts. Despite that, the trip, which would normally take two weeks, was going to take at least three. Eamon assured us that we'd likely still be to the capitol earlier than most of the other nobles, given they'd all be travelling with families as well.

As we swung through the bannorn, just north of Lothering, the Grey Wardens and I took to ranging out in front of the carriage, scouting for trouble. We did run into a few isolated bands of darkspawn, which we defeated easily; Wulf didn't panic at his first sight of darkspawn, and managed to put an arrow into one of their eyes, which was a good sign.

Wulf set his tent up away from the rest of us and kept to himself for the most part; I wondered if he was afraid of getting close and being sent away, or if he was just that unsociable. Not that I could blame him – being quite literally raised by wolves, only to be turned away from them as an adult, probably wouldn't make someone comfortable with chit chat.

We were ambushed one night by a group of darkspawn much larger than we'd seen in a while; it was almost like they'd been looking for us, though at least we didn't have any Archdemon dreams to start it off. I woke with a start when Jowan, who'd been on watch, started shouting. We'd taken to sleeping in armour again, so Alistair and I both sat up, grabbed weapons from where we'd left them near our bedrolls, and were basically ready to fight.

As soon as I woke I could feel them – I wasn't as precise as Duncan was able to be, but it felt like there were a lot of them.

We scrambled out of the tent, to find the rest of our camp rising as well; the Arl's camp wasn't getting up as quickly, and we all soon realised what a liability that pavilion was. Darkspawn weren't smart, but they were generally clever enough to aim for those who seem to be leaders.

We had to hope that sensing the Wardens would draw them away.

And it seemed to work, at first – the initial wave of darkspawn broke on the Warden's part of the camp, and after long experience, we all worked together to carve through them. There were archers out in the darkness somewhere, though, and first Sten, and then Aedan were both hit.

With a snarl, Wulf just vanished into the night. I gawked for a moment at where he'd been – he'd just faded into the shadows, and was gone. The rest of us regrouped, huddled behind shields and tents to escape from the archers' aim.

The next wave, however, came from the opposite side of the camp. As a unit, the Grey Wardens turned and headed towards Eamon's pavilion, and our companions followed. Alistair and Bel stayed at the back, blocking arrows with their shields; it proved unnecessary, as Wulf slunk out of the shadows, blood streaking his face, with a feral grin; no more arrows came our way.