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Three Shards of Fate	By : KRMtheAuthoress Category: +A through F > Dragon Age (all) > Dragon Age (all) Views: 2017 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age franchise/fandom and therefore make no money. Only thing is the original character. Duh, that's obvious.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
Nimble fingers danced over the strong form of the back that rocked over him. Gods above, how he had ached for Tamlen all these weeks! How his eyes secretly watched his smooth movements as he walked or worked about camp. Ceremal had nearly broken during the week when they had practiced archery together, when he had helped the other elf with a form. His hands had lingered on his hips, itching to see if Tamlen could concentrate during a handjob.
But now he had the other elf, his love, to himself. Ceremal couldn’t take his eyes off Tamlen. The short haired elf was arched back like a bow, riding him with abandon, so hard that flesh smacked against flesh. His cock was hard and straight, bouncing a little as Tamlen left it free. Ceremal purred and wrapped his fingers around it, letting it thrust in his hand. His heart began to ache just as that feeling pooled in his groin. They need this: to be one again for a brief moment. “Are you as close as I, emma lath? Will you come with me?”
Tamlen, unable to form words, gasped his agreement as he came hard and fast, his movements freezing. Ceremal arched underneath him, buried in as deep as possible as his seed spilled from him. His hands slide to Tamlen's back as the elf collapsed atop his chest. Both panted for breath and touched as much skin to the other as their bodies slowly began to function normally again.
Tamlen moved first. He pushed up enough to look down at his friend and lover's face. Ceremal looked back at him with warm, sated pools of deep blue, already half closed. It was a ritual now in the way that his hands moved to touch the strange blue-silver hair that pooled beneath Ceremal's head having been freed from its high ponytail during their love making. To his eyes the strands glowed though his mind told him it was the light from the full moon that must be causing it. Finally, leaning closer, he slowly placed kisses along his vallaslin, the marking starting at the tip of his nose and traveling upwards until it ended in a bloom across his forehead. The marking was almost the exact same shade as his hair. He felt his lover's forehead crinkle in a smile before they were rolled to their sides and nuzzled into the blankets.
"I suppose its back to hunting tomorrow." Ceremal whispered thoughtfully. Both knew he was right. It was their duty as hunters to bring back food for their people. But on the other hand…moments like these were so few and far in between. They had to be careful with their relationship. The clan saw them as childhood friends even closer than blood brothers. What they hadn't, and could never, seen was along the way friendship had blossomed into something else. While not expressly forbidden, couplings between elves of the same gender might has well been. It was deeply frowned upon by the people who thought it was their duty to continue the race by as many people as possible. Ceremal sighed and drew the blanket over them. He knew and understood it was their duty as Dalish males…but when it came down to it, could he really leave Tamlen? No. That is a thought for another day.

There was no step in between as Ceremal shot to a sitting position. One moment he was asleep and the next he was awake. Alert. It came from the hum of the ground below him. It came from the creak-whisper of trees over his head. It came from the fact that the forest animals and birds were all but silent around him.
Tamlen was a few steps out of their makeshift camp, clothing and armor donned with an arrow knocked in his bow. He knew it couldn't be deer and Tamlen's silent whisper confirmed it: three Shemlen. Now that he knew what to listen for, Ceremal himself could hear the ungraceful pounding of feet and the lumbering of bodies through underbrush. A nod of acknowledgement sent Tamlen down the hill to confront them and Ceremal quickly getting dressed and armed.
An odd sound came from his side before something bumped against his elbow, yet Ceremal wasn't alarmed at all. He turned and rubbed a hand along Sulahn's muzzle to her forehead. The smile that always came to Ceremal's face at the presence of the halla disappeared as he felt her anxiety flow through the touch. Not safe. Change. Remain here.
"Do not worry, Sulahn." He leaned his forehead against hers as he tried to sooth her. The female halla had come to him as long as he could remember, a loner, belonging to neither a wild herd or the herd that helped them move their landships. She came and went as she pleased, but was never far away. "They won't hurt you. I would never allow it."
Sulahn rattled her antlers and pawed at the ground, moving so she was between him and the direction of the intruders and tried to nude him in the opposite direction. Again a wave of tense anxiety rolled between them. "You don't want me to go? But Tamlen is there. I must protect Tamlen, as I would protect you. Stay here. I will be right back." He kissed her brow before slinging his quiver over his back and creeping down the hill. The halla stood at the crest to watch him go, and the sense of doom only grew stronger the farther he went.
"—you have no right to stop us!"
"No, I do not? Funny, I think differently. Perhaps we will have to see about that." Tamlen's voice was smooth with confidence. The humans, though unarmed, thought that they were only up against one elf. Ceremal could help but smile as their faces paled as he slowly slides to his companion's side, bow taunt and ready. "I found them running and lurking about the bushes. Bandits is what I'm thinking."
"They're the most poorly formed bandits we've seen yet. And without weapons to boot." Ceremal was careful to keep his eye on the three as they talked.
"But we're not bandits!" One shrieked. "Please don't hurt us…" One human hide behind the other two, face in his hands, probably pretending that if he couldn't see the elves, they couldn't see him.
"Pathetic shemlen. To think you drove us from our homeland." Tamlen's words practically dripped venom and he inched closer, bow still trained. Ceremal followed, mainly to keep his friend and lover covered. A small part tried not to admit he also kept stride with the elf to keep him from killing the humans on the spot.
"Bu-but we didn't do anything to you Dalish!" The shrieky human from before shrieked again. "We didn't know this forest was yours!"
Ceremal rolled his eyes and sighed. The humans never seemed to understand the Dalish free movement over forest and lands. Everything had to be owned by someone in their minds. "Fool! The forest isn't ours. You've just stumbled a bit too close to our camp."
"And you can't trust vermin not to make mischief." Tamlen finished. His tone turned from one of harsh power to one of playful control as the words turned to him. "So lethallin~ Any ideas what we should do with them?"
The only thing for sure was that they, or rather, Tamlen, couldn't kill the humans. Even with the amount of bad experiences and blood there was between the two races, the only thing killing could accomplish would be to make things worse. It was something that Ceremal understood and Tamlen did not. How well they worked together shone in moments like this: where one could calm the other, when the calm mind of Ceremal could temper the hot flame in Tamlen. "I would like to find out what they're doing here."
"What does it matter?" He growled, flashing blazing eyes at him for a brief second. He didn't need to turn to see it. He could almost feel the heat. "Banditry or flower skipping, we have to move the camp now if we let them live."
"And we'd have to move the camp, either now or eventually, if we killed them. You. Talk." The shifted the arrow from a position to be easily fired at any of the three humans to just one, sighting down the arrow to his heart.
"Cave! We just found a cave!"
"Yes! And ruins like I've never seen!"
"We thought there would be…you know…"
Tamlen scoffed. "Treasure. So we got thieves instead of bandits."
Ceremal agreed with him and took a purposeful step forward. "You should come up with something more believable if you are going to lie. We know this forest. The caves here hold no ruins."
"I-I-I have proof!" One human frantically dug at his pocket and dared a step closer. An object appearing in his flailing arm. A smooth stone with carvings dancing across the surface. Under Ceremal's protection Tamlen lowered his bow and took the object. "These carvings… is this elvish? Written elvish!" Tamlen's tone of surprise even made Ceremal take a second glance at the stone.
"How can you tell that's elvish?" Ceremal couldn't help the small thrill that ran through him despite the possible threat from the three humans. Their language was only ever spoken. Its writing counterpart had been lost to them centuries past…
"I've seen something like it among the Elder's scrolls…" For a brief moment Tamlen's voice was pure awe. Then he turned, once again voice harsh and eyes burning, on the humans. "And this is all you found? Why didn't your greedy eyes and hands look for more?"
"There was a demon!"
"It was huge, with black eyes!"
"Thank the Maker we out ran it!"
The two elves passed an incredulous look between them. "A demon, really? And this cave is where?"
"Just off to the west, I think. There's a cave in the rock face, and a huge hole just inside." Really? That was the best they could come up with? Could humans not tell the direction they had just run from? And which was it: a cave or a hole? The possibility of a trap buzzed around Ceremal's mind. It was as he said. He knew these woods well. He could walk and run and climb it in his sleep. How could a ruin appear from nowhere?
But it wasn't just that. Something creeped up Ceremal's spine. A feeling. An instinct. Wrong. Just wrong somehow.
"Well? Do you trust them? Shall we let them go?" Tamlen offered, his tone readily revealing that after playing with the idea he wanted to kill the humans.
There were possibilities to consider. The three could return to their human village and form a mob to drive the Dalish out, so it might be better to kill them. But if they did, the humans could still find out (or not, they would take an excuse) and the same could occur. They could kill one instead; leaving the others to make sure no one else would come. That was just as fickle.
Before Tamlen could react Ceremal released his first arrow and quickly did the same with two more. The first took out a chunk of one human's ear, the second slashed a man's cheek, and the final cut into the side of the last man's neck. He kept his hard eyes on them. Silent. Letting the realization sink in that as just as easily as he had scared them, he could have killed them. "You should run now. And if just have to return, it had better not be until we have moved on."
The humans didn't need to be told twice, scrambling away in the opposite direction. Tamlen's nose wrinkled as he caught the smell of urine in the air from where a man had soiled himself. "Want to see if there's any truth in this? As much as I'm loathe to follow a human, the writings make me curious…"
The feeling of wrong clenched around Ceremal's heart. "I'm not sure. I have a bad feeling about this…"
Tamlen laughed. "What? You're scared of this 'demon'? You know how skittish and easily scared shems are. It's probably a bear. I'll go in first if you want, so you can have something to hide behind at the scary things that pop out."
Ceremal mock glared as Tamlen stowed his bow on his back and took out his daggers instead. Tamlen's curious, playful attitude helped drive away the awful feeling. But only a little. He could feel it darting at the edge of his mind, like a word you're trying to think of sits at the edge of a tongue. The laughter suddenly died and Ceremal looked up to find the other elf giving him a glare of his own. But it wasn't anger. It was…jealously and want. "What?"
"They saw your hair down." Tamlen stepped closer, freeing his hands by sheathing the weapons. He moved behind the taller man and was soon picking bits of forest debris from the blue-silver strands or combing it with his fingers. He couldn't help how his eyes fluttered shut at the ministrations. He turned to damn goo every time someone touched his hair or scalp. "No one gets to see your hair down. Not even the camp. Only me. Me."
"You, jealous of shemlen?" It was Ceremal's turn to laugh even as his body sang at the jealous tone in the elf's voice. Tamlen gave a sharp tug as he gathered most of the long hair into a high ponytail, leaving just enough for a thick lock to fall from behind each ear to over his shoulders and another, smaller lock to be braided in front of the ears to frame his face. "You should know that the state of my hair means nothing to me if it means getting to your side faster. To keep you safe."
Tamlen flushed at the soft words and his fingers lingered against Ceremal's high cheek bones. "Let's go find this mysterious cave then.
And find it they did, surprisingly just where the humans said it would be. And there was a hole just inside the entrance. For a brief moment all Ceremal could sense was pure darkness. Pure evil. Lurking. Waiting. Just waiting. And the image of darkness rising up to swallow made him nearly cry out. Until his eyes adjusted and saw that it wasn't a hole, but a walkway of sorts dug into the ground. How could this be? This couldn't be a cave. He knew the spot well and the last he had been here, merely three months ago, it had been nothing more than an overhang and deep niche to shelter in. And there had been no earthquakes…no floods…nothing to make this suddenly appear.
"This must be it. I don't recall seeing that there before…"
"Tamlen. That worries me. We should be wary. In fact, I don't think we should go in at all." Ceremal had to swallow to keep a new feeling of panic down. What was wrong with him? He was a Dalish warrior. An archer and hunter. Nothing frightened him. Where was he getting these awful feelings from, and why?
"Oh, I swear sometimes loving you does not make up for all the fun you deprive me of!" For a moment Tamlen truly looked miffed but it soon turned to an understanding sigh. "Fine, we'll be careful. But think about it. We should go running back until we know there's something down there worth making a fuss over."
Tamlen moved towards the entrance, then paused and threw a grin over his shoulder. "Besides, how dangerous could it be?"
Ceremal thought it rather appropriate to wear a "told you so" look after being attacked by groups of giant spiders. And even more appropriate to laugh when Tamlen kept jumping in surprise. But the place was rather…extraordinary. An entire underground ruin set out like a temple. The same writing covered stones and artifacts littered on the floor and dimly still visible on the walls. Every now and then would be a dim fade of colour testifying it had also been decorated. But it was strange, as Tamlen pointed it out. The place had a strong resemblance to human architecture yet it held elven statues.
Yet there was another side, a side that strongly overwhelmed his delight that they had just potentially found lost pieces of their culture. The place was dead, crumbling. Skeletons and dried corpses could be seen littered throughout. And all the way the shadows breathed down the back of his neck.
And then the corpses moved.
The pushed themselves up from the floor like twisted puppets, hissing and gargling. While their decayed bodies held no true speed or finesse in a fight, they certainly made up for with relentless attacks. More than once a guarding dagger or perfectly placed arrow saved the other from harm.
The corpses paled in comparison to the monster that seemed to arise from nowhere as soon as they opened a door. It seemed like a bear, but larger and more powerful. And spikes! Spikes covered the whole of its body, sometimes jutting out in places where the skin seemed to have simply rotted off. There was no time for warnings or strategy. Just move and keeping out of reach. Ceremal held back as much as possible and peppered it with arrows, which at times distracted it enough for Tamlen to stab with his daggers. At times it was only the other's sharp cry or instinct that kept them out of the beast's claws. Unfortunately they couldn't keep it up the entire time. Soon Tamlen's armor from rendered over his chest, enough to draw blood but not deep. And Ceremal had been throw against the walls hard enough to bruise.
Ceremal struggled to get up from just such an assault when the monster charged at him. He dove to one side at the last moment and the creature harmlessly slammed into the wall. Or so he thought until the pain shot past the adrenaline enough to make him look down and see his hand impaled on a short spike. His cry of shock and pain rebounded off the walls and the creature roared, shaking its head to focus for the next attack. It snapped his body like a doll back and forth, hand still stuck, before he broke free. He kicked at it in desperation, his boot sinking with a sick crack into an eye socket just as a knife pierced through other and into the brain. He stumbled out of reach as Tamlen stabbed it once, twice, three more times just to make sure it was dead.
"What is that thing?" Tamlen gasped, panting as he rushed to Ceremal's side. Once he was sure the monster bear was well and truly dead, he cradled his lover's injured hand between his.
"I don't know! I've never heard of anything like this….except… except in stories." Ceremal's eyes widened as it dawned on him. But it couldn't be…could it? A Blight? Now?
Then something very strange happened. Two noises assaulted his ears. The first was the drop in Tamlen's breathing, from frantic gasps to calm puffs. The second seemed…distant and yet right behind him. Voices, hundreds of them, calling in unknown words. Scratchings. Bangs. His injured hand was dropped into his lap as Tamlen stood. "Tamlen?"
He saw it then. A great mirror standing on a carved platform. On either side stood the statue of a man in robes with a drawn sword, their faces turned towards the glass. The stone was white. Immaculate. Ceremal blinked to focus his eyes. Was the stone actually shimmering a little? It was all too clean, too perfect, for something that must have sat here for centuries. No! They couldn't get any closer! They had to run! This was the bad feeling that caused Sulahn and even himself such anxiety.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Tamlen moved up the steps, voice low in wonder and awe. Ceremal only moved after him to try to halt his movement towards the thing.
"Tamlen! Stop! Don't move any closer. This thing! It's…it's not safe!"
Tamlen glared at him with such ferocity Ceremal took a step back as if the elf had hit him. "It sat here for who knows how many centuries—what could be so dangerous. Don't worry, I won't break it." He moved closer, peering at the surface. "I wonder what this writing is for…"
The mirror didn't reflect anything!
Not the room! Not himself! Not even Tamlen standing right in front of it!
Tamlen suddenly jumped. "Did you see that? I think something moved inside the mirror."
"Tamlen! Get away from it! It doesn't reflect anything!" His words suddenly choked in his mouth as the voices got louder. Why don't you come closer? Aren't you curious? His mind told his body to reach out and grab his Tamlen, but all it did was move closer.
"Ceremal, be quiet! Look! Did you see it that time?" He did. A strange ping echoed through the room and a red circle, like a droplet falling into water, appeared and disappeared on the surface of the mirror. "Did you feel that? I think it knows we're here. I…just want a closer look…"
No Tamlen. Please. No! His body shook as he tried to force it to move and it refused. A sharp pang of pain erupted from the wound on his hand, like something had dripped on it. The brief moment of clarity let him realize there were tears on his cheeks. No! Stupid! Don't cry, get Tamlen! His hand rose, mere inches from his heart's arm before it froze again.
"It's…showing me places. Some sort of…city! Underground!" He watched in horror as Tamlen's hand finally touched the mirror. The room rang again with sound. The mirror's surface rippled red and flashes on lighting appeared without sound. "Blackness…great blackness… It saw me!" Finally, true fear and panic entered Tamlen's voice and he backed away.
The last thing Ceremal's ears heard was Tamlen's cry for help before light exploded and sent him hurtling down the steps into darkness.

The world went in and out of focus, from darkness to blurry distant forms. He had to keep moving. But which direction: Forward to safety, Back to rescue?
When had it changed from cold stone with the stench of death to the rich earth? It sang around him. Familiar, gentle, good murmurs washed over him from the life that made up his home. Something nuzzled his cheek until he turned over. Sulahn.
"Can you hear me?"
The world seemed to snap to one side and a form came into brief focus. An older man. Human. Armor.
Something gentle touched his forehead, followed by a much younger voice. He could barely see the tips of pointed ears through a mass of black hair. "You're hurt, bad. We'll get you out of here."
Something slipped under him and he was suddenly rushing upwards. Strong arms brought him to a strong chest. A flash of white and a flash of violet. "I'll carry him. Which way?"
And that was all.

"I think he's waking up!"
Ceremal's eyes slowly blinked. It felt like something was pressing down on them, all of his body, and it would forcefully drag him back to sleep. Alarm spread through him as he came to remember what had happened. The ruins. The mirror. Tamlen! But it was another realization that made his heart stop for a beat.
He felt….wrong.
He held up his hands to see him in his vision. They looked fine, which told him he must have been healed since the great wound on his hand was nothing than a scar. Yet it wasn't that he thought as he bent and extended his fingers. It was if something was…writhing slowly beneath the surface of his skin. Eating away.
Something shuffled near his head as a figure sat down near him, who revealed himself to be a young elven man. And a familiar one! But where? He certainly wasn't a Dalish and not of the Sabrae… But how could he be an elf? His skin was a rich tan, almost like a hazelnut, but how could he when every elf he had ever seen had pale skin. Deep red tattoos arching beneath gold eyes… that's it! The figure from the blurry vision!
"You're awake! You must have the luck or protection of some god, they thought you might not survive." The male turned and produced a cup of water for him to drink. He tried not to but Ceremal gulped the water down, realizing that he was both famished and thirsty.
"Who…?"
"Saleà Tabris, of the Denerim alienage." Saleà smiled and refilled the cup, setting it within reach. "But I think you need to speak to one of your people first. I'll go get him."
One of his…? He was back at camp! Ceremal abruptly realized that he was laying in his own aravel as he smelt the homely smell of wood and herbs, saw the little trinkets sway of their threads from the ceiling. Hadn't he been out in the woods hunting? Hadn't he been exploring a ruin? A distant cry, his own mixing with Tamlen's as he watched the elf disappear beyond the light. No! He sat up and tried to get out of the tangle of clothes and blankets. Calm down. Saleà had said he had been found, right? That must mean Tamlen had been found as well, he would be here in camp and everything was safe and sound.
"Lethallin!" He nearly collided with Fenarel at the doorway. "You're awake! Everyone has been worried sick about you! You shouldn't get up, how are you feeling?"
He had to smile a bit at Fenarel, how the worry makes him talk so quickly. "A little…groggy. But worried, where is Tamlen? Can you take me to him?"
The younger elf couldn't hide the expression of worry that flashed over his face. "We don't know. The shems who brought you back saw no sign of him."
"Shems?" It couldn't have the three he had driven out; they would have killed him instead. He looked over for a moment at the dark skinned elf that stood a little ways from them.
"Yes. To humans and this elf brought you back two days ago. You don't remember them? I know was a Grey Warden. They just…appeared out of nowhere with you."
Saleà stepped forward. "You were delirious with a fever. We found you outside a cave in the forest, alone and nearly unconscious. We brought you back here; I stayed behind to help while the others went back…"
"Yes. The keeper's been healing you with the old magic."
He knew the two meant well, but he couldn't take it anymore. The worry was eating at him, clenching around Ceremal's heart again. "And is anyone searching for Tamlen?"
"Oh course! Most of the hunters are off looking for him right now. But stay right here, I have to go get the keeper! She wanted to talk to you as soon as you were awake!" Fenarel turned to go but there wasn't any needed. The grey haired keeper was already approaching. She nodded her appreciation to the young elf and he bowed in respect before moving away.
"Da'len…" The keeper tried to keep her voice level, but she could not keep the affection and relief from her voice. "The fortune of when Duncan found you… I know not what dark power held you, but it nearly bled the life from you. It was difficult even with my magic to keep you alive."
"No…" Ceremal couldn't keep the gasp of horror from slipping loose. "Then Tamlen could be sick as well?"
"If he encountered the same thing as you did, yes. The Grey Warden and his companions," she motioned to Saleà without looking, "say they found you outside a cave. Already stricken, and alone. Duncan thinks there may have been darkspawn creatures in this cave, is that true?"
"I am…not sure. There were monsters…walking corpses… what does a darkspawn look like?"
The keeper shook her head, "That sounds like dark magic, but not darkspawn… What else did you find? What's the last thing you remember?"
Tamlen. Tamlen disappearing. "A mirror… it…I don't know keeper. It seemed to draw Tamlen to it and when he touched it…"
"A mirror?" The keeper sounded incredulous, but Saleà kept silent, his face revealing nothing. "A mirror caused all this? I have never heard of such a thing in all the lore we have collected. I was hoping for answers when you woke, but there are only more questions."
Ceremal lowered his head, glancing at the scar on his hand. He knew what he saw…didn't he? "I am sorry I am not of more help to you, Keeper."
"I know, da'len. I should not take my frustrations out on you. Tamlen remains missing. He is more important than anything we might find in those ruins. If he is as sick as you were…" She didn't finish. She didn't need to.
"I think that's where Duncan and Koln went. Back to the ruins I mean. Though I don't know if it was to search for your friend or for the darkspawn." Saleà finally spoke up, gold eyes flashing with concern.
"No. I hope you will forgive my harsh words, city elf, but we cannot rely on them. We must go ourselves, and quickly. Do you feel well enough to show us the way, da'len? We have not been able to find it without you."
Was he well enough? Ceremal closed his eyes as another wave of whatever it was inside him crawled beneath his skin. Unclean. Unnatural. He forced it down, out of his body and out of his mind. For now. "I feel fine, Keeper. I will show the way."
The Keeper's shoulders dipped and then lifted ever so slightly. Like a bit of weight was taken from her shoulders. "That is good to hear. I'm ordering the camp to pack so we can move north, and I would also like you to take Merrill with you to the cave. Get something to eat for strength, and then swiftly look for Tamlen."
Ceremal did not need any explanation. The camp needed to be moved for safety incase whatever had harmed him and caught Tamlen was still around. Merrill, as the Keeper's First, shared a degree of her magic and could help Tamlen immediately once they found him. She would also be more knowledgeable about what the ruins and the mirror might be as well, using them to shed light on the illness. "Pray for him, Keeper."
Saleà turned to him as she left. "May I accompany you? You might need all the fighters you can with you if you run into more of these things…"
"You know how to use a weapon? None of the city elves that have ever come have ever been trained." He took another look at the elf. Yes, now that he was looking he could see the barest of outlines of a knife in his boot and daggers at the small of his back. A golden eye winked at him, followed by such a mischievous grin he could not help but smile himself. "Let's just say I'm a bit of a troublemaking oddball where I come from."
The camp was abuzz with activity. People darted back and forth to retrieve items or take down parts of their aravel. Parents gathered children or directed them in their own small tasks. Most knew or sensed when he walked by. Hugs, touches, and pats of reassurance or thanks that he was well, their relief evident. But so too they revealed the little hope they held of Tamlen returning. He had to keep his thoughts silent, hidden deep down, only allowing his quiet hope to remain in his words. No. Tamlen was still alive. He would find him and get him help. Ceremal couldn't blame them; he knew they meant well.
Like Paivel, the history keeper, who showed his relief by yelling at him, his affection raw as he reminded him that he belonged to more than just himself. Who he sat by and helped tell their history to the Dalish fledglings while he ate his meal, and who tried to keep his views of flat ears polite once he deduced who Saleà was. Junar who came to introduce Pol, a city elf who had come to live with the Dalish in the time he had been out, and who turned out to be from the same city as Saleà. Ashalle, who was mother to him not by blood, since his own had apparently died when he was a baby, but by time. It comforted him that she had been in or near his aravel every moment until he was better. Halla keeper Maren who laughed at him while the halla herd gathered around him, bumping and nuzzling to make sure he was okay. Or even craft master Ilen, who had carved and presented him with a new bow since his own had been lost. "Give it a history, da'len," he had said. His people. His home.
"Ceremal!" This included Merrill, who bounded towards him and flung her arms around him. "Oh I was so worried! The keeper was in your tent all the time and when she wasn't she'd go through her scrolls. And how she kept fearing that she would lose you, and if we had lost both you and Tamlen. I can't think about it. Poor you, poor still lost Tamlen!"
She finally realized that was ranting and let go, flushing. "Oh, there I go again. I don't think I'll ever get control of my mouth. We should get going now—oh! Hello, I didn't see you there. Are you new, coming along?"
Saleà smiled in understand and introduced himself. They chatted for most of the way, Merrill asking him all questions about city life and culture she could with Saleà answering. It was soothing to here and it kept his mind from going crazy with worry over Tamlen. Think the best, Ceremal, not the worst. Hope that he is sick, sicker than you are, and not dead. Sicker has a better chance of being healed than death.
Until the monsters attacked.
These were different from the ones in the caves. They looked like men but with rottenly pale flesh, with features morphed and twisted. Between Merrill's magic, Saleà's knives, and his bow (a good, strong weapon that felt right beneath his hands) they were able to make quick work of them. But it was…unsettling. "You can smell the evil coming off them," as Merrill said.
"Are you all right?"
Ceremal turned towards Saleà, even then trying to hide the fact he was starting to pant. "I'm fine, why…do you ask?"
"You're very pale and starting to look a bit feverish."
"Well, he did just cover from being sick so the exertion might be doing that," Merrill suggested thoughtfully. "Or it might be your comparison. We're all quite pale naturally. You're the only tan elf I've ever seen and we must live outsides much more than you do."
Saleà conceding, but Ceremal could feel his watchful eyes on his back as he led the way. He would have to be carefully not to show any signs that whatever was crawling beneath his skin was affecting him. They came across a fresh camp on the way that Saleà figured must have been his companions. Then, finally, the cave. Exactly as it had been, save for the myriad of footprints near the entrance and even a drag mark. "That's where we found you."
Don't dwell on it. Into the cave he pushed them, keen eyes alert for any sign of Tamlen or new movement. Slowly his hopes crushed. All looked the same. The rocks where they had fallen, things he and Tamlen had overturned, the bodies of monsters they had killed laid in the same places.
A rattling of a large old door broke him out of his thoughts and he turned to see Saleà standing at one. For a moment he saw Tamlen in his place, complaining that he couldn't see what was behind it and complaining again that after the long way around they had come to the same door. "It's locked. There's a long way around in this direction."
"Aha! So it's one of those~" Saleà hummed as he bent down and withdrew two thin metal tools from a hidden pocket.
"Aha? What do you mean?" Merrill, intrigued, leaned over his shoulder to watch.
"Just something I've noticed in a good number of buildings. See, most people are right handed and unconsciously do one of two things when constructing a building. One is to make the shortest ways or most valued things to the right, or if they're trying to be tricky in protecting something they switch to the left. In a ruin like this there are two ways to get to the same place and the shortest they block with a locked door to force people to go the other." Saleà fiddled with the lock a bit more before cursing in frustration. "This is a good lock…however… it's in an old wooden door. Which means…" Tucking the tools away, Saleà braced his feet while eyeing the door. Raising one leg while rotating at the other he sent a harsh kick at the lock. With a splinter and a crack the old wood gave away and the lock fell to the other side.
Ceremal decided he rather liked Saleà then. Especially when he realized it was indeed a shortcut to the mirror room. The place that he last saw Tamlen. And the place that currently seemed swarming with the strange tainted men they had seen on the path. There were already sounds of combat in the room, and their weapons quickly joined it.
Once it was over, a voice that seemed faintly familiar came from the other side. "Saleà? Is that you?"
"Yes Koln! And the elf we found outside and another!"
For a moment Ceremal was nearly surprised by who opened the door. The human man who appeared on the other side appeared only about 20 and yet had the starkest white hair pulled back into a warrior's ponytail. First a tan elf, and now a near fledgling with white hair. What a strange group this was.
"I could almost say the same about yours," The human answered without first having the question, gesturing at Ceremal's hair. His smile was young, friendly, but didn't quite reach his violet eyes which seemed… sorrowful. Ah, the other human who had found him. "I'm surprised you recovered so fast. Duncan didn't think…"
"So that was fighting on the other side." The last human, who seemed significantly older than the first and who he surmised must be Duncan, approached while cleaning his sword.
"Well then why didn't ye come help?" Merrill asked, almost poutingly.
"Hush, Merrill. They were fighting in here as well. Not all these kills are mine and Tamlen's." Ceremal glanced over the floor at the bodies.
"Oh, forgive me then. You are Duncan of the Grey Wardens, yes? I'm Merrill, the Keeper's First. That's sort of like an apprentice."
Duncan nodded, understanding, but then spoke with a bit of alarm. "Your keeper did not send you after me, did she? I told her I would be in no danger, especially since I took Koln with me."
"I'm search for my lo—brother, Tamlen. We were both in the caves. I last saw him here…" Ceremal trailed off as he finally forced himself to look at the mirror. The writhing took on a fevered pitch for a moment and then disappeared as he looks at it. It was still just as clean and spotless as it was before. No blood, no scuffs, no sign of Tamlen. "He touched it and then… I blacked out."
"Grey Wardens have seen artifacts like this mirror before. It might be Tevinter in origin, or perhaps even crafted by elves of Arlathan, and used for communication. Most just break from time…" His next words made Ceremal's blood into ice. "They become filled with the same taint as the darkspawn. Tamlen's touch must have released it and it's what made you sick, and I presume Tamlen as well."
Ceremal looked down at his hands and he could almost see the blackness underneath his skin. "I had the darkspawn plague. And I…still have it, don't I?" Three people gasped in horror. One person was silent in understanding.
"Yes. You can feel it, can't you? This mirror will continue to infect others so long as it exists."
Yes. He would destroy it! Destroy it for taking Tamlen from him, and for threatening his people. "Will smashing it work?" And when Duncan nodded yes, the Dalish strode forward to break it with his bare hands. He only stopped when Koln stepped in front of him and offered him a sword. He barely saw the crest on it that marked it as a family sword. He only saw the mirror shattering as it crumbled beneath his and didn't stop even when his hand hurt from the jarring. Only when it was shards landing around his bare feet did he stop, and looking down, he saw it. A woven leather bracelet Tamlen had always worn. He kept the sob inside as he picked it up, turned from the remains, and returned the sword.
Ceremal only nodded as Duncan spoke again. "We need to leave this place. I must speak with your keeper immediately regarding your cure." He felt Saleà touch his arm in silent comfort, and then Koln, none noticing as Merrill leaned over and slipped a shard into her pocket. The walk back to the camp was a blur. Duncan speaking to the keeper washed over him, answering only that there was nothing left of Tamlen and remaining silent as Duncan took responsibility for breaking the mirror. He followed blindly when the Keeper gently told him to tell Hahren Paivel what had happened, and to prepare a service for the dead.
"He can't be dead…" Ceremal whispered aloud as he walked, twisting the bracelet around his wrist. Koln and Saleà, who flanked him on each side, remained silent. Silence was what he needed. So he could mourn in that silence. They stood by as Paivel held him in his arms and whispered in his ear that it wasn't his fault, and of course they could sing for Tamlen without a body. They walked on either side as they crossed the camp, almost like a shield for all the condolences and pity he didn't want to hear but didn't have the heart to tell them to stop.
One gently squeezed his arm to make him realize that they were back at the keeper's tent and that Duncan was speaking to him. "Your keeper and I have spoken, and we've come to an arrangement that concerns you."
"Arrange…ment?"
"My order is in need of help and you are in need of a cure. When I leave, I hope you will join me. You would make an excellent Grey Warden. How you've recovered from the taint is remarkable; however, the taint will sicken and kill you, if not worse. The Grey Wardens can prevent that, but it means joining us."
"You…can?" Did he want to survive? Could he even survive, without Tamlen? "That's…very generous."
"I must be honest. It is not simple charity on my part. I would not offer this if I did not think you had the makings of a Grey Warden. But let me also be clear: you will very likely never return here. We go to fight the darkspawn, a battle that will take you from home and clan. But we need people like you. I know it might not help, but Koln and Saleà are both joining as well."
The keeper must have seen the hurt in his gaze as he turned to her. "The Dalish long ago pledged to help the Grey Wardens in a time of need and we must honor this agreement. It breaks my heart to send you away, but even more would it break to see you slowly die from this sickness. Ceremal. This is your duty, and your salvation." He watched her slip her ring onto one of his fingers, the same hand with Tamlen's bracelet.
"Duncan? Can I at least…stay for Tamlen's funeral? Then will I go with you."
From the observations of Duncan
I allowed the boy to stay for the funeral for his fallen comrade and friend. Though, deep down, I suspect that this Tamlen meant much for to Ceremal then he is willing to reveal to his people. Once again, as we are ought to wonder after tragedy, I wondered if there was anything I could have done.
I watched the three of them stand shoulder to shoulder, letting the songs of the Dalish wash over them. Koln Cousland. Saleà Tabris. Ceremal Mahariel. Three young men from different races and different walks of light. They barely know each other and yet they stood united, leaning on his each for support and comfort. I had not suspected to find a recruit at each of my stops. One, tops. But not three and yet here they are.
What premonition is this I see from these three? Watching their backs as they stride away from me, weapons drawn, and such conviction following them that it will change the world as we know it. Ah, perhaps it is just the whimsical hopes of old man who is nearing his time and yet has so much to do.
Ceremal left with us as promised after the funeral and having been embraced by his clan one last time. He does not act as Koln did after he lost his family, but I know the pain is just as deep and he is dealing with his own way. Ceremal seems to be joined by one of the halla who freely lets him ride upon her, like the elven knights from old.
Now all is finished. Now we travel to Ostagar and to war.

There! Whoo, finally all done with the "origins" of the three Wardens I'm writing XD Maybe the chapters will come easier now. I'll probably be switching points of view between characters to change it up a bit or according to the situation. Though there is one bit smaller OC that will show up, I'm just not sure which chapter he will. But Zevran will be popping up much earlier, because I dislike the fact you must finish a main quest first for him to appear _
There was a lot of things to keep track off concerning the Sabrae clan aka the fact that Ceremal's clan/Dalish Warden's clan is the same clan that shows up in Dragon Age 2, and there's going to be a sequel to this story covering DAII. So that's why Merrill is acting like DAII Merrill; she's so much more awesome XD
And now to decide the order of treaties to write out, and how to skip over Orzammar. I LOATHE Orzammar for some reason.
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Three Shards of Fate