The door closed behind Hawke and Leliana, leaving Merrill's house in a terrible silence.

Theron turned back to Merrill, who looked very tiny, hunching her shoulders and dropping her head.

'I... I need some water.' He muttered, feeling drained.

Merrill looked up, and gestured to the door. 'There's a well just outside, and some cups on the table.'

He slowly walked outside, giving both himself and Merrill some time to calm down. There were dozens of elves looking at him curiously, and he simply scowled at them. He was not in the mood to deal with the gawping of flat-ears. After realising he was not going to provide any more entertainment, the elves went back to their pitiful existences.

Theron took a few more deep breaths, wrinkling his nose at the awful scent of the place. He wanted to be out of Kirkwall, and back in the forests, losing weeks in his love's company. But duty and history, it seemed, had a sick sense of humour and had collided to force his shameful display in Merrill's home.

He walked back in, and saw Merrill had removed her armour and was wearing a simple green tunic, leaving most of her legs and arms bare.

She looked even smaller than he remembered her, unhealthily skinny.

'Here, I got you a cup too.' He handed her a chipped mug of water.

'Thank you, Theron.'

He sat alongside her on the bench in her main room.

Where could he start? He had so many questions. Why was she here? Where was the clan? What was she doing with the eluvian? As always, duty came first.

'I...' he began.

She looked at him with the wide, bright eyes he had once fallen in love with. But now, all he felt was sorrow, a dull anger, and the desire to be away.

'Merrill, you know exactly what the eluvian did to me and Tamlen, what were you thinking, rebuilding it? You could have been hurt, or tainted, or poisoned the whole alienage if you managed to get the damned thing working again!' he tried to keep his voice neutral, but after what it had done to him...

'It wasn't tainted! Anders is a Grey Warden, he looked at it and-'

'Anders is a coward anda failure of a Grey Warden! I felt it as soon as I entered the alienage!' he snarled. 'What's your next excuse?'

'I did it for you, Theron!' Merrill exclaimed.

Theron's rant came to an abrupt halt. 'You what?'

'You never came back! You promised, but you never came back!'

'I... what...' Theron felt like he was choking. That promise... made so long ago...

Merrill gasped, and pointed to his foot, breaking the mood in the room. 'Theron, you're bleeding!'

He looked down at his foot, which was indeed spilling blood onto the floor. He gently prised his boot off, and saw there was a sizeable piece of glass embedded in his foot. With the adrenaline rush wearing off, he realised it actually hurt.

'No problem, I'll pull it out, you heal me,' he told her, with a small smile.

'I... I can't.' Merrill said, furiously wringing her hands.

Theron's face crumpled in confusion. 'What do you mean you can't? You've done it before!'

'A lot's happened, Theron... I'll get some bandages.'

They cleaned and strapped his wound in silence, before he looked again at Merrill. How did he think she was the same? Everything about her was off. She was too skinny. Her joviality had a sad undertone, like a mother mourning the loss of her child. Her wide eyes were not tinged with the gold of sunlight, but the red of autumn leaves. Of blood.

Theron took a deep breath, inhaling the unpleasant odour of the horrid alienage, before speaking quietly. 'I... I think you should start at the beginning, Merrill.'

She nodded. 'I missed you so much, Theron. When Duncan took you away, I thought you would come back, or send a message, or fly down on a griffon and take me away, or anything! You said you would!'

Theron looked guiltily at his feet as Merrill continued.

'But you didn't. We had to move on after you and Tamlen killed those shems, but before we left I... went back to the cave. It was wrong of Duncan to destroy a piece of our heritage like that, and I thought... I thought that since it made you sick, it could find you as well! I took a piece of it when we moved on, and kept it while we fled Ferelden with all of the others.'

He gave her an encouraging smile, knowing that shouting at her would not make her tell the tale any faster.

'You travelled by boat?' he asked.

Her brilliant eyes widened. 'Elger'nan, yes! It was horrible! I was soo sick the whole way, and they wouldn't let us bring the halla. It was wonderful to get back to land.'

He remembered his relief at finally dismounting the ship, and could not help but agree.

'Why did the clan come here? There are more, and bigger forests, elsewhere.' he wondered aloud.

'Asha'belannar instructed us to come.'

He felt a chill run down his spine. He had killed Flemeth, at Morrigan's request.

'When?' he tried to keep his voice from choking.

'Oh, Marethari said it was several decades ago.' Merrill replied dismissively, clueless to his fear. 'But I saw her, Theron! She turned into a dragon right in front of me! I put Hawke's amulet on the alter, right after I'd met him, and there she was! I wish she had taught me how to do that.'

'H... how long had you been here at this point?' He whispered.

'For nearly a year. Marethari said we were not to leave until the debt was repaid.'

A year. Flemeth was still alive. He felt a righteous anger rise.

Good.

Hopefully she took revenge on her daughter, who drew all of them in with her act of opening up as a person, before revealing her true colours with an offer of foul magic to save their lives, her true intent for travelling with them all along.

Merrill softly continued her story. 'When she left, I came back to Kirkwall with Hawke.'

'Why?' Theron asked, frowning. 'Why didn't you stay with the clan?'

Her expression turned into one of deep sorrow. 'I couldn't, Theron. If I didn't leave, they would have exiled me or worse.'

His heart plummeted. 'By the dread wolf, Merrill, why?'

'I'd been researching the eluvian. I found out that with a piece of one, I could rebuild a full one, but the piece I had was sick, tainted.'

Theron's green eyes, swimming with unnatural blue, narrowed, and hers widened in response. 'I was very careful, I promise! I tried so many ways to cleanse it, so I could find you, but none of them worked! Then, Marethari took me up Sundermount for training. I met a... spirit. He showed me how I could do it. It worked right away.'

Theron's teeth set on edge. 'You did a deal with a demon!? Merrill, what is wrong with you?'

'Demon is just a word!' Merrill practically squeaked in response, 'he can't help what he is!'

'Exactly! He is bound by his nature, bound to betray you! I slept through most of Marethari's classes and I know that! How did you get tricked?'

'I wasn't tricked, Theron.' Her cute features formed themselves into a frown. 'Everybody thinks I'm helpless, but I knew what I was doing.' Her anger was replaced with sadness. 'Or at least I thought I did. Everybody told me... but I didn't listen...'

Theron's stomach dropped. Where was Merrill going with this tale?

'I cleansed the fragment I had, but Marethari would not allow me to stay whilst I was doing it.'

'Doing what, Merrill?'

She dropped her head, and held out her arms. He could not keep his gasp of horror in. Every inch of her flesh was torn, scarred and torn again.

He stood and slowly backed away. 'You're a maleficar?'

She stood too, and pointed at him angrily. 'Take your hateful shemlen words outside, Theron!'

What happened to his innocent girl? The one he loved, the one with whom he laughed, danced and made beautiful music? 'So, you turned to blood magic, for what? A stupid mirror?'

'For you!'

'Stop saying that!'

Creators, is this my fault?

No!

'I was gone!' he snarled. How could Merrill have done this? Blood magic? The darkspawn artefact that tainted him?

'I didn't care, then. I was so miserable, Theron! Every day, I missed you holding me, looking after me!' Merrill's voice cracked, cracking Theron's heart. She sounded distraught. 'But that stopped mattering after a while. You're right, you were gone, and the eluvian could do so much more than what I first thought. The spirit said it could store memories, memories from our ancestors! It had old magic running through it, I could feel it!'

He scowled. 'The darkspawn taint is old magic, Merrill.'

Merrill continued, ignoring him 'It's a Keeper's place to remember, Theron, and the eluvian should have brought our people back to greatness.'

'Is that you talking, or the demon?'

She strode up to him and angrily jabbed him in the chest. 'Don't you dare say that, you have no idea what I... agh!' Merrill threw her hands into the air.

Who is this?

He had never seen this woman, so full of hate, at others, at herself!

Her voice calmed as she continued. 'You were right, anyway, in the end. I hope it makes you feel better. But I'll get to that. Anyway, that's why I can't heal you. It's why the Keeper pushed me away. The... the first time I cut, I lost something far more precious than what I gave to you, that wonderful night by the waterfall.'

She sounded so sad, and he slumped back onto the bench. Was this all his fault? Because he made a stupid promise he could not keep?

'I can't do any kind of creation magic any more. I haven't done blood magic for over a month, but I still can't. I don't think I'll ever be able to again. I can only destroy and kill.'

What could he say to that?

'I came to Kirkwall with Hawke. He found me this house, he had to call in a really big favour to do it, it was so nice of him. He didn't even know me and...' Her delicate features curled into a small smile, one of true happiness, a tiny beacon of hope in the tragedy that was her life.

'You care for him, don't you?' he asked gently.

She nodded. 'He's so strong and brave, just like you were. But... that's not all. He was always there for me, whatever happened. We've had to do some terrible things over the years, Theron. Sometimes I helped him, others he helped me.'

That part, Theron could understand. After all he had done, Leliana had stayed by his side, always helping, never judging. Whatever else, he was glad Merrill had found a love so willing to stay with her.

She widened her smile. 'He even helped me protect the clan from a Varterral. You should see him fight, Theron, he just jumped straight at it. He doesn't even use his magic sometimes. Just fights with his father's blade.'

'The clan stayed?' he asked, curious.

Her face fell again. 'Yes. For years.'

'Why?'

'For me.' Her voice was tiny now. 'They told the important shems in Hightown that it was because they had no halla, but I found out the truth earlier this year.'

'Why? What happened?'

'Please, lethallin, let me say it my way, otherwise I don't think I can...' She coughed, and tried to strengthen her voice, with limited success. 'Otherwise you won't understand. If there's even the tiniest chance that you will, because you know my story, I want it.'

He felt sick to his stomach. Something terrible had happened, and Merrill was terrified of what he would do to her when he found out. He might be angry, but he would never hurt her, no matter what her crime. After all of his decisions, judging others was a luxury he could no longer claim. Could he?

'We fought the Varterral because I needed one of Master Ilen's tools, so I invoked vir sulevanan. The Varterral had been attacking our hunters; three had been killed already. Radha, Harshal and Chandan. I brought their amulets back to the Keeper, for what good it did.'

She looked back at him, huge eyes swimming. 'I think... I don't think Marethari expected us to survive, Theron.'

He had heard legends of the Varterral. Huge creatures of nature and stone, practically invincible. And Marethari had demanded Merrill kill one? He asked. 'Why would she set you a task like that?'

She finally sat down again, beside him. 'I think she wanted me to run away, to realise that I needed the clan more than the eluvian. But by then I had my own family. Hawke helped, and Isabela, and the others, even Fenris who doesn't even like me, because Hawke asked him and he likes Hawke, even though he's a mage and Fenris hates... sorry. For me Theron! They all risked their lives... for me.' Her voice now sung with a melancholy note. 'We did it. We slayed the beast. But, it took Pol too. You remember that funny flat ear who came to stay with us? He was about to take the vallaslin, and had fallen in love with Radha. He was looking for her in the caves.

'When he saw me... he ran. He looked at me like I was a monster, Theron! He would rather face the Varterral than spend a few seconds in my presence, to go past us and out of the cave!' She looked at him, her face twisted into a visage of such wretchedness it broke his heart. 'He ran right into the beast's lair, and it tore him apart. It took too long to fight it, when we got to him Hawke's magic couldn't do anything. He died, with fear in his eyes, as he looked at me.'

She shuddered. 'It used to keep me awake at night.'

They were silent for a few seconds, before Merrill started again, her voice brighter as she talked about Hawke.

'I think that was when I fell in love with Hawke. I loved him before that because he was so nice and strong, but even after all of that, even when the Keeper begged him not to give me the arulin'holm, he gave me a hug, said he would take me home, and gave me the tool without question. He couldn't have known what it did, or anything, but he just wanted to help.'

She stopped there, her voice becoming croaky. She took a sip of water, and looked at him again, with a sad expression on her face. 'The arulin'holm didn't work. Nothing did. After my first night with Hawke he offered to help; he knows lots of people who know so much about such strange things, but nothing worked.

'I tried for years, Theron. I... I cut deeper and deeper. Hawke found me passed out, nearly dead in front of it, a few months ago. He was so angry, so scared. That's when I decided to try something else.'

Merrill cleared her throat, and strengthened her next words. 'I... went back to the spirit. I was so close to fixing it, I could feel it, the old magic was almost ready to return!' Theron scowled, but let her finish. 'I just needed one last thing and I knew he could help!'

'We went up the mountain the long way so I didn't have to see the Keeper. All we did was argue and fight, about nothing, even if we were just passing through. But when we reached the top, she was already there. She told me... she told me that she had kept the clan here because I was still part of Sabrae, and the People protect their own. I was in danger from the spirit, and Marethari would not leave me to my fate.'

She started trembling. Not sure of the appropriate response, he placed a hand over hers. She was so cold. 'Marethari said the spirit was a demon of Pride, and was only looking to be released from his prison. I didn't believe her, and told her that it was perfectly safe, it was bound. She just gave me that look, you know, her look when she makes you feel like a da'len with her hand in the honey pot?' Theron nodded to her, remembering that look all too well. 'That's when I realised I couldn't sense the spirit any more. Marethari said she knew I would come, and wanted me to feel how weak his barrier was, because of what I had been doing, and show me how to fix it.'

A tear ran down her face, and she sniffed. 'But it was too late. The demon was already free, and Marethari took it into her own body so it didn't... so it didn't come to me! She... she was right, Theron. Everything she had said, was right! Everything everybody I cared for warned me about! I was so... It was all my...'

Great sobs racked her tiny body, and Theron suddenly understood the full implication of what she was saying. The Keeper had become an abomination. There was only one fate for such a creature.

The woman who cared for them all, raised them, chided them when they were wrong and praised them when they were strong. The one who always preached patience and love, even for the shemlen who hated and feared them.

Marethari. An abomination. Because of Merrill's stupid pride. Because he had broken his promise.

He did not know whether to strike her or hold her. She looked so broken. Could he strike a broken woman, a woman he once loved?

Yes.

He felt it, like he always did when the indecision became too much. The cold, bubbling up, drowning out petty morality. Clearing his mind of fragile, abstract concepts like "right" or "wrong".

He relied on it a lot during the Blight. It was easier to slit a sleeping child's throat when he only saw an obstacle to his army, and the guilt that came later was preferable to failure and death. Leliana would help with the guilt.

He wanted to hit Merrill. To throttle her, to make her hurt.

Marethari...

But he did not need to.

She was doing it to herself.

Whatever horror he could inflict on Merrill, she had already done to herself, ten times worse.

So he held her. He brought her close, shared his warmth, stroked her hair. He felt her pain, knew the guilt racking her. He still loved her, in his own way. She had been such an important part of his life, his adolescence, his motivation as he began his journey as a Grey Warden. She should never have had to do what she did; she was too innocent, too sweet. 'What happened then?'

She looked up at him, enormous eyes swimming. 'We killed her. We killed the demon. It was awful, Theron. There were so many ghosts... Tamlen, Pol, all the ghosts of my stupid quest! It was my fault, all of it! Why aren't you mad!'

He held her closer, not saying anything.

'Hawke wanted us to run then. Get back to Kirkwall before the others found out. It's the only time he's ever wanted to run, because he was worried about me.

'B... but... it was too late. Some of the hunters were outside the cave, looking for Marethari. I had her staff, and they... they blamed me... and they were right! By Mythal, Theron, I wanted to die there! Fenarel drew his sword, and I was ready for him to cut me down. After all I did, I deserved it. I still do.'

Theron's mouth was dry, his heart hammering against Merrill's head pressed against his chest. There was only one way this story could end, now.

'But Hawke didn't let him. When Fenarel took a step towards me with his sword, Hawke struck him down, with a blast of magic like I've never seen. He... crushed him, like a bug under a boot.

'I... I don't remember much of what happened next. I just wanted it all to end, but everybody was screaming, my friends kept pulling me along behind them, hiding me, and there was so much blood.'

Her voice was absolutely broken now. The room was full of an unnatural silence, so absolute. 'Th...then I... I was in the camp... and there were bodies everywhere! The hunters. Master Ilen. Hahren Paival. Everybody! Scattered, all the way up Sundermount, like a... a... some kind of horrible path! Hawke and the others killed them all, to protect me, when I just... when I just wanted to be dead! When I deserved to be dead!

The whole clan...

My family...

Theron realised he should be feeling something. Sorrow. Anger. Vengeance. Lamentation.

Instead, he was empty.

There was nothing.

He could hear everything, with a deafening clarity. Merrill's pitiful sobs. The rustling of her hair, against his shirt. Her heart, beating furiously, sounding like the flapping of a bird's wings.

What could he say?

What should he say?

Could he forgive her?

Should he forgive her?

Was he even upset enough for her to need forgiveness?

She was talking to him.

'Theron?' Her voice was like the trickling of a tiny stream, that he could block with a shunt of his foot, that he could pare in two with an arrow.

'Y... You shouldn't be mad at Hawke, or Isabela, or anyone else, lethallin, they were defending themselves...'

Her babbling faded into the depths. Why was he reacting so strongly? Was he reacting strongly? Surely a strong reaction would be to kneel on the floor, rend his hair and scream in agony, or to draw his blade, plunge it into the heart of the one whose ignorance, whose pride destroyed everything he knew from his childhood?

What should he do?

Did he even harbour those secret dreams any more? Of returning to the clan, with fame and riches, making everything better, because he was a Grey Warden now, and the shems would respect them?

It had been so long since he'd thought of it.

Merrill had, in their final moments together, asked if he could get her a pet griffon.

He had said yes.

The Keeper, watching them, had rolled her eyes, but gazed upon the pair with a sad affection.

The Keeper is gone.

Merrill killed the Keeper.

Because Merrill was looking for him.

Because he left.

Because he never came back.

He killed the Keeper. He killed the clan, because sweet Merrill could not forget his promise.

He stood up, barely aware of whatever stream of thought of Merrill's he disrupted.

Your fault!

A cacophony of voices screamed at him, everybody he had sacrificed, betrayed, lost throughout his life.

Just like the mages! They could have helped! They weren't abominations, but you cut them down anyway, because if any were left, your Templars would have stayed behind. Oh thank the maker, we were... what are you doing? Why are you-

Your fault!

Marjolaine, at the mercy of Leliana. Kill her! Your past will never leave you! He ruined her, that night. Destroyed her. Took the small ember of purity and quashed it beneath his boot. Because he loved her. Because he could not bear a moment without her. Because he could not bear her judging him, should she realise just how good she truly was.

Your fault!

Like Alistair, unable to accept his position alongside Loghain, dragged off to be cast away from the walls of Denerim. After everything we went through! I trusted you!

Your fault!

Your fault!

'My fault!' Theron screamed, as loud as his lungs could manage.

It came out as just a whisper, barely reaching his own ears.

He was on the floor.

'I know it's my fault...'

There was a whispering, at the edge of his consciousness. A tugging at his soul.

Oh.

It was real.

There was a woman, talking to him. Pulling his shirt.

He stood up.

She was looking at him with enormous, green and red eyes.

'Theron?'

He did not recognise her. She was a malnourished elf, dressed in rags. She bore the marks of the People, but everything about her screamed "human". Broken, like all of the other elves in this sad place.

'Who are you?' he asked.

She dropped to the floor, weeping, head in hands.

He was about to help her up when he heard it.

A song, like nectar to his soul. A voice, so sweet as to drive men to madness, singing words of such sorrow and beauty that it tore his heart.

He turned from the filthy house and left. Sure enough, underneath the beautiful tree, sat a goddess.

He barely noticed a large human enter the house behind him.

The goddess sang, children clustered around her feet. Their parents stood, eyeing the goddess with caution, but their expressions were softened with peace, with sadness.

He smiled, knowing the words were for him. They were painful, like the pain from cleaning a wound.

A song for the departed, a farewell to his family.

When she finished, the goddess turned to him, before standing and crossing to him.

She took each of his hands in hers, and fixed him with a sad gaze that tore straight into his soul.

'Let's go, Theron.'

He let her lead him from the square. It was easier, to trust her. She would not judge him. He knew, in some deep part of his soul that she would help him, hold him, love him, until he could do for himself, and then he would do the same for her, as they always had.

They left.

They did not look back.

A/N: Thank you to everybody who read, alerted, favourited and reviewed this piece, I very much hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

Thanks again to TSLi for inspiring and beta reading this.