A/N: This chapter is a bit gruesome... and really sad...

For the second time in the same day, Aeryn found herself running... running away... away from all feeling, all emotion... somehow believing that the farther she ran, the more distant her problems would become. She could and she would overcome everything by simply running away. All thoughts were channeled into the repetitive pounding of her legs on the soft autumn ground, sending mud and fallen leaves flying behind her. Aeryn's blood was rushing through her veins, her heart thrusting against her rib cage, her lungs screaming for air; every part of the elf's body begged her to stop.

Except her brain.

Away.

But soon, even Aeryn's fitness could not keep up with her unrelenting mind. Her legs started to slow down, and that small act was enough to begin a chain of surrenders throughout the rest of her body. In a domino effect, her whole frame tumbled over itself into a tangled heap on the ground. Aeryn laid there, breathing in sharp, jagged gasps of air. The tears that had so bravely remained perched on her eyelids began to fall, hot and fast, down her face. She felt as though her sobs were suffocating her, as she lay helpless in the leaves, unable to stop them.

It wasn't a crying like before. That morning, she had tears in her eyes mainly from her frustrations with herself, over something as stupid as Tamlen. Something as permanent and solid and unchangeable and completely idiotic as Tamlen.

Now, Aeryn was sprawled in the leaves, at the mercy of everyone, including herself. She kicked and screamed and punched the ground in anguish until she physically could do so no longer. At which point she curled up in a ball, her small figure shaking as she wept uncontrollably. As she wept for something that should be as permanent and solid and unchangeable as anything could be: the past.

Except when the past was shrouded by secrets, when it was a dark entity that changed form every time she looked at it, when it was a puzzle that she held all of the pieces to and still could not figure out...

And perhaps that was the worst part. The fact that the truth had been staring her in the face the whole time. And that nobody, not even the people she loved, had helped her see it.

~V~

Everybody in the clan knew about the Keeper who had preceded Marethari. When they were just da'len, the elders gathered around the fire pit, calling the children in a solemn voice. Aeryn, along with the others, approached the gathering blissfully ignorant to the events that were about to occur. However, there was something about the scene that sent chills up the young elf's spine, and it wasn't just the bitterly cold winter evening.

The children sat down, oblivious to the pained expressions on the adults' faces and the eerie silence broken only by the crackling of the fire. They proceeded to do what one would expect them to do: stare at the ground, dig in the dirt, hit each other... anything but listen to their elders.

But not Aeryn. When Paivel, the clan's storyteller, began speaking, her eyes were locked on him.

He told a story about an elf. A Keeper, in fact. Their old Keeper.

His name was Nitharon. He was young for a Keeper, but unquestionably qualified. His dark hair was cut short, and his pale blue eyes swirled with the magic that resided within him. He had a splash of freckles under his vallasl'in, giving him a happy and good-natured look.

The Keeper was known for his remarkably intellect, but more importantly, his compassion. He possessed none of the hatred towards humans that was so typical in the elvhen race. When given the chance, he was much more willing to spare a life than take one. This attitude was originally frowned upon by the rest of the clan, but his pacifistic nature soon gained merit as he successfully eased tensions between the Dalish and the human towns.

The Keeper bonded with an elf from a neighboring clan. He met her at the Arlathvhen, and was captivated by her bright green eyes that seemed to reflect the colors of the forest. He soon learned that her name was Adeidre, and that she was wholeheartedly opposed to his hasty advances. However, Nitharon was quite taken, so he kept in touch even when they parted. In time, she came to love him in return.

But her family starkly disapproved of the mingling of their people with outsiders, especially because Adeidre was one of the best hunters in her clan. Even between the Dalish, there were fierce rivalries. However, Nitharon managed to convince them to let her come to live in the Sabrae clan. They let her go, but it was made clear that they viewed her as a traitor.

Regardless, Adeidre was welcomed by her new clan. She was at the Keeper's side at all times, both of them shining with happiness. They balanced each other out; he was a calm man, with incredible intellect and a level head, while she was a fighter whose emotions often overflowed into her actions. These two led the elves into a glorious age of peace. Just when Nitharon thought he could be no happier, Adeidre announced her pregnancy. The clan rejoiced; they felt as though the happiness would never end. But of course, as was the case for all things, it did.

One day, the clan was travelling in the woods to their new camp. Despite the Keeper's peace negotiations with the human town, the shemlen had decided to push them deeper into the forest. They left without a fight; the Dalish were far too used to this treatment, and it was a relatively short distance after all. Their aravels sailed proudly through the air, the red sails brushing the limbs of the tall trees. Nitharon and Adeidre, with a couple of other elves including Paivel, moved on ahead, scouting the forest for a new camp site.

Suddenly, a group of humans emerged from the thickets. They were clearly bandits from the town, armed only with feeble weapons and armor. But they were unexpected, underestimated, and brutal. Nitharon lunged forward, throwing out his arms to protect his people. The Dalish were foolishly unarmed, for it was only supposed to be a quick journey, and there hadn't been violence between the races in years. Adeidre, however, always carried her bow, and sprang forward to fight alongside of her bond mate. Her arrows shot down human after human before the Keeper could even begin to generate the crackling magic in his hands. Eventually, he sent mounds of rock at the attackers, aiming to maim, not kill. With a flick of his wrist, he caused snake-like vines to grow from the ground, ensnaring the humans in a tight bind. The pair seemed unstoppable, but the humans kept coming.

The rest of the clan, now hearing the commotion, began running to catch up. But they were a considerable distance behind.

Adeidre reached for her quiver and snarled, realizing that she was out of arrows. Nitharon looked sideways to see what was wrong. In the moment of distraction, a particularly bulky human was able to approach the pair. Adeidre's screams of warning were not enough, and in one merciless stroke, the shemlen stabbed the Keeper in the stomach.

The clan emerged through the trees at the moment of the murder, and they could only watch in awe as his body fell to the ground. The shemlen roared in pride, kicking the Keeper's limp figure to the side. He kneeled down and gutted the elf, as though he were an animal. The human grunted something about heathens and savages as he ripped Nitharon's heart from his chest and threw it aside.

Adeidre's legs crumbled beneath her. She fell next to her bond mate, her love, lying dead and exposed on the ground. For once, all of the fight was ripped out of her.

The human grabbed the elf roughly by her hair, raising a knife to her throat. He was about to slice her to bits, just like he had with the Keeper, when he noticed the bump in her stomach.

He lowered the knife, but maintained a sturdy grip on her body. In one motion, he heaved her over his shoulder, and then sprinted out of the woods with the rest of his party.

The elves merely watched, rooted to the spot in disbelief. They stood still, silent, lifeless... trying to comprehend what had just occurred. And they remained that way far into the evening. Until the forest grew dark, and the chilly winds bit at their skin. Until the owls screeched, and the wolves howled. Until they saw the rising sun, stained red by the Keeper's blood.

Nobody heard about Adeidre ever again. Or the baby.

~V~

Had Aeryn really been so blind not to see? Or had she simply believed that her clan, her family, couldn't possibly have the audacity to look her in the eyes and preach to her about the tragedy of these elves... without bothering to mention that they were her parents?

Her parents. This story, this heart-wrenching tale that left every older elf speechless as tears flowed down their faces, was the story of her parents.

She knew she was right without knowing how. The revelation itself was less of shock than she expected... it was the lies that hurt the most. Maybe, somewhere deep inside, Aeryn had always known, but refused to believe…

She was even mentioned in the story, albeit wrongly. They must have completely edited the ending… obviously something was heard of the baby... she was curled up in the mud at the moment, choking on her own tears...

And soon Aeryn was not only weeping for herself, but for her father. And her mother. And the tragedy that they had experienced. And the fact that their own daughter didn't even realize it until now.

Dalish Language Translation:

da'len- children
vallasl'in- blood writing; tattoos on the Dalish's faces
shemlen- human
aravel- travelling carts; "landships"
Arlathvhen- meeting of all Dalish clans every ten years

Another note on the names:

Nitharon means youth
Deidre means sorrowful wanderer (which is very relevant and very sad once her story has been properly told)