A/n: Based on a particular encounter that only the Dalish Elf has. The gamers who played that origin probably know what I'm talking about.

Theron supposed they had been fortunate. Though meant to be masters of stealth, shrieks were creatures that breathed quite loudly, making a characteristic hissing sound that, in this case, it had saved his and his companions' lives. Though most of them had lain down for the night, they had instantly sprung to their feet and managed to fight off the surprise attack, killing many of the monsters before forcing them into retreat. Even so, Theron had never expected that the worst surprise was saved for last, in the form of a dark-skinned, human-like monstrosity.

"You… lethalin…"

Theron froze, eyes widening tenfold. "Mercy of the Gods! It can't be!" he breathed out, aghast. "Tamlen?"

"Don't come near me! Stay away!"

Then the ghoul was gone, running off into the darkness of the night. Yet Theron chased after him, as fast as his feet could carry him, forgetting about the camp and his companions in that moment. He had failed his best friend once; if he failed him again, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself a second time.

"You want to leave so soon? Aren't you interested in the mirror?" Tamlen asked.

"We can come back later for it. I want to see what else we can discover," Theron replied, standing at the threshold of the large wooden door. The young warrior had always believed that he knew the forest like the back of his hand. Yet there was now this underground city in this strange cave, filled with ancient artifacts that most probably dated from a time that Elves had been immortal, their knowledge surpassing all the other races'. The things he and Tamlen could uncover could lead to a breakthrough in his people's struggle to regain that knowledge; it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"I want to look at it now," Tamlen said. "Don't you think it strange that of all the things we've found, the mirror is the only one that isn't broken? Wait! Did you see that?"

"See what?" Theron asked, frowning.

"Something moved in the mirror. There it is again!" Tamlen stepped closer to the mirror, his hand reaching for it.

"Tamlen!" The young warrior tried to pull his friend away from the mirror but it was too late. The moment Tamlen's fingertips touched the silvery surface, a great force threw them both across the room and then Theron knew nothing more.

Theron looked incredulously at the keeper and then at the human – this… Grey Warden - standing next to her. When he had gone to talk to them, he had hoped for some answers about his condition. For he could feel a sense of sickness in the pit of his stomach even now, even though he had finally got back on his feet after Marethari had been using all of her abilities to cure him in the last three days; ever since the human had found him unconscious in the forest and brought him back to the Dalish camp, in fact. Instead of answers though, he received even worse news.

"I know not what dark power held you, da'len, but it nearly bled the life out of you," Marethari said softly. "If Duncan hadn't found you when he did, I fear you would have been beyond help."

"And it's still not enough. Your keeper only managed to postpone the inevitable," Duncan added solemnly. "The only thing that can save you now is joining the Grey Wardens. It's the only way you can find a cure to the taint that is poisoning you."

"But what about Tamlen? We can't just give up on him! He's still out there somewhere!" Theron cried.

"Da'len, calm down," Marethari said gently.

"I understand your concerns, but let me be perfectly clear," Duncan said firmly. "The only reason you've survived so far is through your own willpower and your keeper's magic. All this time, your friend remained beyond reach in the woods, unaided. Tamlen has no chance." He boldly reached Theron's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Trust me when I say he's gone."

Theron opened his knives to object, to say that he didn't care, that he had to find Tamlen. And yet a part of him realized the futility of the matter and urged him to calm down and listen to reason. In the end, he lowered his gaze in defeat and said the very words that would seal his fate forever.

"Very well. I'll come with you."

The hideous form crouched against a rock, averting his gaze and making Theron's heart wrench violently. This… creature… had once been his best friend, his comrade. They had spent their childhood playing, exploring and making dreams about becoming great warriors and defeat the bad humans who had made their clan suffer. And now…

"Tamlen…"

"Don't… look at me!" the ghoul rasped painfully, eyes devoid of their familiar blue colour. "I'm… sick…"

"I know," Theron murmured. He took another step forward, holding up both his hands in an appeasing manner. "But maybe I can help you, Tamlen. Don't be afraid."

"No help!" Tamlen snarled, baring his teeth... his fangs. "No… help for me." His hands clenched into fists, talon-like nails digging into his palms and drawing blood. "It… calls to me. He sings to me! I can't stop it!"

Theron knelt in front of him even as Tamlen cried out in pain, dropping his knives to the ground so he could caress the tainted face in comfort. "Shh… It's all right…"

The ghoul lowered his yellow gaze. "Don't want… to hurt you, lethalin," he whispered. "Please… stop me…"

"I have to try and heal you." He had found his cure amid the Grey Wardens, maybe now he could help Tamlen in turn.

"Too far. You cannot help me," Tamlen said softly, as if aware what was Theron thinking. He looked up at him, his eyes reflecting his sorrow and regret. "I'm… so sorry, lethalin. Never wanted this…"

"Tamlen…"

The words died in Theron's lips as sharp claws suddenly grabbed him by the throat, squeezing the life out of him without mercy. The fangs were bared once more, and whatever had been left of Tamlen's soul vanished behind feral eyes filled with hatred.

"Now die."

"How unnerving!" Leliana said, looking at the corpses of the shrieks.

Zevran, on the other hand, didn't seem all that unnerved as he clicked his tongue in disapproval. "No trap? No ambush? Some assassins."

"Fortifications must be built around the camp. This should never have happened," Sten declared, crossing his arms.

But Alistair barely listened to everything that was being said, for he had noticed something that was more than just a little alarming. Doing his best not to go into full-fledged panicking mode, he walked up to Wynne, who was busy casting protective magic around the camp.

"Wynne? Have you seen Theron?"

The woman frowned in thought at the odd question. "No, I can't say I have. I thought he was with you."

"He was, but then I lost track of him in battle." He looked around, trying to get a glimpse of the Dalish. Where could he possibly be?

"You looking for your fellow Grey Warden?"

Alistair turned around, surprised to see Bodahn standing there. In all honesty, Alistair had expected the merchant to flee after the shrieks' attack. It was true that both he and his son always tailed the party, often doing business with Theron for supplies and such. That, however, hardly made either dwarf a warrior, and tonight's particular experience had been horrifying, to say the least; Alistair wouldn't have hold it against them if they had gone.

"I am. Have you seen him?"

"The last I saw him, he was chasing after one of those monsters down that way," Bodahn said, pointing in the particular direction. "Be careful, though. I'm not sure what you'll find."

Alistair ignored the grim warning and unsheathed his sword. "Wynne, look after the others; I'll be right back."

He didn't even stay to hear the woman's reply. He simply hurried down the direction Bodahn had shown him, trying to find any sign of the missing elf.

"Theron!"

There was no answer; just the leaves rustling gently in the spring night breeze.

"Theron!"

Again there was nothing. Truly worried now, Alistair continued down the path, his sword still in hand. If Theron was in trouble, he'd need all the help he could get. Provided… nothing worse had happened to him…

Alistair shook his head at once, refusing to think like that. He would find Theron; he had to.

"Theron! Come on, answer me!"

Theron didn't answer, nor was it necessary anymore. In that moment, Alistair caught sight of a kneeling form from the corner of his eyes. More importantly, he recognized the reddish tint of Theron's armour, and so he knew that he had finally found the elf.

"Thank the Maker," the royal-blooded man said with a sigh of relief, walking up to him. "Are you…?"

He had meant to ask, 'Are you injured?', but he never finished his sentence. Even under the meager light of the stars, he noticed that Theron had his head bowed, seeming to cradle something… or someone. Whatever Theron was holding was humanoid in shape; grotesquely so, but humanoid nonetheless… and quite dead. Alistair supposed Theron managed to kill it by slashing its throat. The small knife that had been used for the deed was on the ground, covered in the black ooze that had been the creature's blood. What made things more disturbing, however, were the bruises that had started forming on Theron's neck, undeniable signs that the Dalish had escaped strangulation by the skin of his teeth. And yet there he was, hugging the body as if… as if that creature had actually meant something to him.

"Who… was that?" Alistair asked the elf softly.

Finally, Theron answered, his voice pained and hoarse. "His name was Tamlen."

"Tamlen…?" Wait, Alistair was sure he had heard that name before, but from where? As he gazed at the ghoul's leather armour, though, he saw the characteristic Dalish patterns on it, and everything fell into place. "I see… He was the one who was with you when you…"

Theron nodded, strands of black hair hiding his eyes as he refused to lift his gaze.

"I'm so sorry," Alistair said sincerely, feeling for his fellow Grey Warden. "That is what happens when the taint is left unchecked."

"I wanted to help him," Theron whispered, the sound of a sob interlacing the words.

"You did help him," Alistair said at once, kneeling next to Theron so he could place an arm across the elf's shoulders in comfort. "It's… It's better for him to have it end. It was a mercy."

Theron shook under the man's touch, grief coursing through his body. "Duncan knew, didn't he?"

Alistair sighed, rubbing Theron's back to ease the tremours away. "I think so. He certainly knew that that would happen to you. That was why he helped you join the Grey Wardens."

"Then why didn't he tell me after I became one?" Theron snapped, finally looking up. His eyes swam in tears, and yet justified anger flashed through them as he glared at the human. "I could have looked for him! I could have saved him! I could have done something!"

"Hey, hey, hey! Easy!" Alistair's arms wrapped around Theron, but the elf struggled to get away, hands clenching into fists and hitting anything they could. The man winced as two pretty powerful punches landed on his side; nevertheless he took the beating without a sound escaping his lips. He knew how much it hurt. He had been there after Duncan's death, and Theron had stood by him even though he didn't have to; they barely knew each other back then, almost a year ago. Now, it was time for Alistair to stand by the young elf now that he was needed the most.

A final fist landed weakly on Alistair's chest, and Theron grew still, the struggle ceasing altogether. Even so, Alistair didn't let him go. He was aware that the elf didn't have much strength left in him even to stand upright on his own.

"He had probably meant to tell you once the battle in Ostagar was over," he said quietly. "But I suppose the darkspawn made sure he never had the chance."

He felt Theron nodding against his chest and then gently pushing himself away from Alistair's embrace. The man winced at the haggard-looking face and the lines of anguish that aged the young elf more than his actual years and he couldn't help but squeeze Theron's shoulder in reassurance. He was there and it was alright.

The message got through, and Theron looked up trustingly at Alistair once more. "Before he died, Tamlen said that the archdemon sang to him," he said softly. "Do you think the archdemon knew about my connection to him?"

Alistair pursed his lips momentarily. The thought had crossed his mind as well, but he hadn't been sure whether he should have voiced it at a time like this. Still, he knew he couldn't lie to Theron, so he nodded.

"Remember, being a Grey Warden means that we can sense the archdemon's thoughts, but he can also sense ours. He must have 'read' your past in your mind and so decided to use it to his advantage."

Theron nodded his understanding once more. "Sounds like we should deal with him and fast."

"We're already working on that," Alistair said, smiling a bit. "He'll never know what hit him."

"For the Grey Wardens," Theron said, managing a weak smile at last.

"And Ferelden and everyone we know and love," Alistair completed, and he got back on his feet. "Well, now that that's settled, it's time we headed back."

"Actually, I'd rather I stayed a little while longer," Theron said softly.

"Of course," Alistair said, nodding his understanding. "I'll tell the others that you're just scouting the area."

"Thanks. I appreciate it," the elf said before looking back at Alistair with a guilty look. "And sorry for the bruises."

"Bruises? What bruises? I didn't feel a thing," Alistair replied with a grin, waving his hand dismissively. As he turned on his heel, however, he winced in a comical manner. "Well… All right… maybe I felt that first punch. Maker, you have a mean right hand! Who said elves were lightweights? Because I certainly didn't!"

It had the desired effect. Theron chuckled softly, the sorrow ebbing significantly as he watched Alistair go. The royal-blooded man smiled to himself and, considering his work done, he walked back to the camp to make arrangements for the night. He had to make sure no one would notice Theron's return to the camp. He knew the elf would rather avoid questioning after he had properly mourned and said goodbyes to Tamlen – and his old life.

To Be Concluded...

A/n: I never thought that a game would actually make me feel shocked and saddened about a character that he was barely there half an hour, but... there it is.