I am alive! Having been filled with writer's block, assignments and the hum drum of life outside of me stories. But here, something for those who would like.

I was standing in Eamon's study. It smelled musty though because there had been no zombies inside it was lacking the smell of putrefaction that had laced the whole rest of the castle. Not that I'd ventured up stairs, I am not touching that with any sort of length barge pole. But now I had this whole thing before me and to be honest maybe be trying to kill the former normal occupants of the castle was imminently more desirable than just everything else. After Perth had 'helped me up', I guess I had looked less dispassionately at Isolde than I had. She had been placed, or perhaps the better word is deposited in a chair, her face hidden in the depths of her hands. Venturing a look at the discussion behind me, it was well obvious that that was going even less well. Everyone, and I mean everyone bar Morrigan, still dancing around the fact, even evidenced by the non-child upstairs and zombies, that Eamon was unreachable and unwakeable which in it self means that the inevitable endgame is a young boy's murder. Maybe it was because I was so separated from this humanity, and my being here before, that I could see the path so clearly. But I could not force anything; I was nothing at the moment. I was in an oasis of my own, super obvious that no one, bar Perth, knew how to treat me (though perhaps he was just hoping kindness would be remembered in case I was a demon or summat) or even who I was, especially after my little exchange with the demon. And I cannot blame them for it – it seemed separate from me, the whole conversation like I'd not been in control of my body, but also so hyper aware that I had been… I'm a walking contradiction and I can't understand anything. My ears had pricked up at Jowan's name, watching Teagan argue against it, powering through a not quite healed nose, replying with quick fire anger to Finn's suggestions and then Isolde's as she arose and approached them. At that moment showing more guts than I had. And I knew it wasn't my place, it wasn't appropriate for me to hear it, let alone my 'companions' outside of Finn and Alistair, and therefore it wasn't for Perth and his men… though he'd literally been through hell and back for Redcliffe, but this was more personal and more oh god, elite? For us. I motioned to him (such power in a hand gesture that I have never had) Perth nodded, nodding to his men. I hoped that they still had some fight in them when I crossed into the other room and the tin cans came to life. I shall blame my probably useless attempts at fighting on the come down from adrenaline and stuff.

I would like to have some inkling of a plan. My mind was a blank. No idea what to say, I think that even if I'd had the time I would still be drawing a blank. Blankity blank. No I had something, surely. Oh-kay. I sat in Eamon's chair, bringing my legs up, this mother was huge. Oh-kay do-khay. Some sort of rough outline, something to offer Finn and Alistair when they entered, the former probably pissed because I'd asked Perth to have him come see me. I was too empty to have an argument with Finn, any energy on both our parts was needed to face the whole rest of the world. I placed my head on the open book, I wish superman had been sucked or shaken into this world, way more useful. I was a useless dalish elf (on the outside) with a musically gifted adolescent on the interior who really had no purpose being here. I have never felt good enough, not once since being here. I let my fingers flick the heavy vellum pages, the texture different to the books of home. The smell was even different, kinda like leather, but softer. I wonder if the dalish had written words… I think they'd be more of an oral society. Hahren Paivel was always so good at stories, drawing us in the images he conjured more strong and real than the flames from the fire. It was during one of his stories that Tamlen snuck close and held my hand. I couldn't help the grin that lifted my lips even now. I would be better if Tamlen was near. I wish Tamlen was here.

"Tamlen."

The door banged and I snapped straight in my chair, hands automatically wiping my eyes cos I had seen the slight smudges the tears had caused on the book. I was like a rabbit in the proverbial headlights when Finn 'entered' with Alistair on his heels.

"Oh, uhm, sorry to call for you like this."

My voice was smaller; could I really be afraid of Finn? His reaction? No. I think this was Maharial's normal voice. Not afraid, though I probably am a little, just smaller. Regardless it was a great way to start, with an apology. Good one. Though when I managed to lift my eyes to Finn's face and encountered the anger, I think it was a prudent move.

"Are you really?"

Those three words felt kinda like an axe. Thudding, heavy and painful. By now I had no reason to doubt that my eyes were now the size of the planet of rage heading towards me to just run me down. I thought that if I would ever be in that position I would be angry, fuck I wanted to be angry. But all I had was sorrow. And a single GODDAMNED tear that slid from my eye. Just one. And I hated it with the passion of two lives.

"Yes."

Maharial and I were united in that single word. And though I managed to pull in a breath to get that out, nothing else would move. But with all my experience of life with and without Tamlen, what Kane had broken, there was nothing that I could even offer. Finn though tracked that tear, moving to sit, Alistair following his moves, though thankfully he closed the door. I wanted more than anything to be brave but all I could think was that I looked like a child trying to be something I wasn't.

"Why?"

I blinked, that new word enough to have me able to wipe at the track of moisture, though my hand fell to my lap nerveless straight after.

"Why? Why what?"

I had nothing, no reply again. I needed time and clarification. I needed to find my courage.

"Why are you crying?"

It was Alistair who asked the question. And it was so not what Finn was going to say.

"I met your Duncan, before."

Eons of meaning in that last abrupt word, before. Before everything. For Finn before the slaughter of his family, for Alistair the loss of his own in one evening.

"Is that how you know?"

It wasn't said angrily. Far from it. Perhaps if he had spoken in his normal gruff tone, the tears wouldn't have just exploded from my eyes. I couldn't look either of them in the eye. Not at one time did I ever think that Tamlen wasn't real, he was. To me he was, as both Maharial and me. I swear I'll think back on this and just want to sleep forever. Without the Fade. My blurry vision gave me a hazy view of my hands clasped tightly in my lap, wet from splashing tears.

"He'd found a reason to come to the camp of my clan. The stain of the darkspawn had been a path that he had to follow."

I didn't see my hands anymore, instead it was this memory. Duncan's bearded face, his voice earnest as he spoke to Marethari, hands shaping his argument. Marethari's face was still iron but I could tell she was troubled. I had mostly been on the receiving end of that look, so I knew it well. But this conversation, this one was and those faces were for my Tamlen; there was no way that I would ever be apart from him. Marethari knew it; perhaps that was the reason for her look. I had let Tamlen go, I would find him. From where I stood, I watched this Grey Warden leave, Marethari keeping her worried eyes on him until he was gone, hidden from sight between trailing branches of a weeping tree. I managed to take a breath, not broken by my tears and spoke. And that smaller voice leaving my mouth, all the while I saw this memory reliving something I had not lived before.

"My promised did not return from a hunt. I was ready to follow after him, when a shemlen entered the borders of our camp. He spoke of toothed monsters, of blackness that was some sort of sickness he had followed like deer trail through the forest. His face had fallen when Marethari spoke of Tamlen's disappearance. We argued, but he would not allow any to travel with him. Eventually, on the verge of going without her permission, she gave me her blessing; I followed him with a brother hunter and our Keeper's First."

My eyes flitted side to side, as caught up in this memory as was my audience though I think their focus couldn't leave my crying eyes.

"We found and followed the dead but still angry black bodies of spawn along what could only be Duncan's path. A cave none of us had seen before opened into the hillside, his tracks leading inside. Entering, I knew that Tamlen had walked this path before me. We found Duncan standing before an elaborate eluvian, but for all its beauty I could feel the hate that just radiated from it. And I knew it with all my heart that it had taken my Tamlen. It surprised Fenarel that I would and could believe Duncan so easily. A shem, a newcomer, a stranger. That what had been my life before was done. There was no getting Tamlen back. He was as good as gone."

I lifted my head to look at Finn then, as if he could actually see my sincerity.

"I swear I would have done everything to see him again, to find him again. That the anger in my chest would have been more than enough to fuel that fight for the rest of my life. But when I looked into Duncan's eyes, I knew that he had lost ones he loved too, to the same taint that lay in the mirror. I watched, watched as she broke it, sending shards flying. But when he broke that mirror, I think he broke my heart too."

There was that silence again.

"He left quickly, time to say that he was sorry and to warn Marethari that the cave was tainted. That night I listened as our elder spoke the words that heralded the death of Tamlen. I watched as he planted the seed into the earth that did not hold his body. And that night I walked into the moonbeams, like my mother had when my father had died. That perhaps I would find him again."

"But you didn't."

At Finn's soft words I looked up. Creators, he did know. The loss of everything. How did I not see it before?

"No, I didn't. Instead I found this, I found here. Found your side."

I felt empty. I hadn't managed to clear up anything. It had been a regurgitation of the lump that had grown in my chest since I had sat in the silence of Eamon's room alone with memories that were now my own.

"All you need to know is that I won't leave you. I'll do anything to help you. I swear. On Tamlen, or, or, or the Creators or the Maker. On Falon'din, on Elgar'nan. I'll help you destroy the Archdemon."

They sat like two statues, silent. My words dying in the room. But my resolve had sharpened in that really awkwardly worded oath, if that is what it was. Truth was I had nowhere to go, but I also didn't know that if I wasn't here, that they would be able to do that. Destroy the Archdemon. I knew they were capable, but I wanted to protect them, with whatever I had. And the only thing that I had replaying in my mind as I searched for something I could offer, was the way Perth had spoken… no deferred to me. How Teagan had reacted to me, in front of Isolde. But before I could try to get out that single fact, Finn asked me something,

"He is your family, this Tamlen."

And he still didn't speak in that gruff voice. It was not soft, but so different. And there was no hesitation in my answer,

"You guys are my family."

Alistair's eyebrows rose so high they merged with his hair line, his hair perfectly messed up and not such a golden colour anymore.

"Well, not you know 'blood' you know? But… family."

I was dithering, I'd lost my momentum and I totally couldn't even try to decipher what was going through Finn's head. Alistair was more of an open book. I think he was actually trying to figure out if we were actually related and how he could take the whole royal spotlight thing and plonk it on me. With what I knew about Alistair's parentage his line of thinking was closer than he could even imagine. But Finn was definitely another kettle of fish. One that I was super happy about leaving for another day. I think was a little befuddled about the change in voice, he could truly be making me like him a little bit. Maybes.

"A slight aside, but have you decided against Jowan's help? If so what's the next step? Have you looked at the treaties?"

I admit it was a lot of stuff I'd just chucked at them. Alistair was pulled from his family tree fantasy with a jerk, though Finn just flicked his eyes to focus on me, from where ever he'd been looking.

"Just like that?"

I beamed a grin at him, feeling a bit of a moron with you know still being tear stained and everything.

"Yeah, just like that."