This is something a little new for me - writing a character from birth to adulthood so I hope you will bear with me. I have tried to find the right ages for everyone in the story, but some I have simply had to judge so please forgive any mistakes. The same is true for the event timeline, I have had to make some guesses.

As usual I will be taking liberties with Cannon. For the purposes of this story Celia Mac Tir did not die when Anora was a young child.

I hope you enjoy

Disclaimer - I only own my own characters. I do not own DA Origins / Awakenings / DA2 or anything else of the DA world.

xXx

Loghain sat at the large desk in his rooms in the palace. Maric had once told him he spent so much time in Denerim he should have his own estate. Loghain had given it much thought over the years; but he had not wanted to encourage his wife to join him here and having their own property in the capital could make that more difficult to avoid. It had been something of a relief that Celia preferred Gwaren to Denerim and with her father moving in two years ago she was less inclined to leave. She always joined him when it was expected; usually staying in rooms at the Gnawed Noble Tavern, but she rarely stayed long. He sighed and rubbed his forehead; he was a terrible husband and father, but knowing this did not seem to make him able to change it. He shifted restlessly in the seat and glanced over a map of Ferelden that was always spread out on the desk; it usually served to sooth him, but not today.

He felt the knot of guilt as his memories took him to Rowan, their stolen moments in the Deep Roads and then his betrayal of their love when he had convinced her to marry Maric. He still remembered the shock in her eyes, the pain she strove to hide. It had driven a wedge between the three that had driven them apart and forced him to keep his distance. In an attempt to ease the tension between them and searching for a way to ease his own heart, Loghain married his childhood sweetheart shortly after the final Orlesian forces were driven from Ferelden. However; to his shame; when he had lain with his bride on their wedding night, it was Rowan he imagined in his arms not Celia. He resigned himself to his life and tried to make the best of it, Celia was beautiful and intelligent and she did her best to soothe his sour moods. Almost as painful as his knowledge that he had given up Rowan, was the knowledge that he was unworthy of his wife. When their daughter Anora was born the following year the steel of his heart softened a little.

Loghain was deeply ill at ease when Maric had declared him Teyrn of Gwaren. He was a commoner and he knew it would not sit well with the nobles, but Maric was adamant. He fleetingly wondered what his life would have been like; had he been allowed to live a life of tending the fields as his father had before him. Rowan had told him once his life was the sword, not the plough and he knew she had been right. He sighed; his thoughts drifting to those first years as Teyrn. He had been somewhat surprised, but grateful when Eleanor Cousland had taken Celia under her wing. The women had got on well and friendship blossomed quickly between the two. Loghain had always approved of Eleanor; she was a strong, courageous woman who did not seek favour at court. She was devoted to Bryce, their children and to Ferelden. Loghain also found an ally in Bryce, a man as committed to Ferelden as he was and surprisingly one of the few nobles who was unconcerned with his commoner background, though few would admit it to his face.

Clenching his fists Loghain shuddered at the pain in his chest, Rowan had returned to the Maker nearing four years ago and still his heart ached. So many years spent watching her by Maric's side; aching for her touch, for words of love whispered only for him. He shuddered and pushed back the chair wincing at the scrape that seemed to tug at his frayed nerves and walked to the window; standing with his hands behind his back, his gaze fixed on some point he was unaware of. So brief their time together and yet his love for her had never dimmed. They could have been together; but he knew for Ferelden to survive, Rowan and Maric had to stand together as King and Queen. He swallowed painfully, startled to feel the wet trail of tears as they slipped down his cheeks. He brushed them aside impatiently; Rowan was gone; he had given her up many years ago and he knew were he to be given the choice, he would make the same decision again. Ferelden had needed the stability and strength Maric and Rowan's union had brought, but her passing had almost destroyed them all. He suspected Orlais had a hand in her death and he would not be swayed from that belief; his hatred of Orlais burning within him, one flame that could never be extinguished.

Celia had tried to support him when Rowan had finally succumbed to the wasting sickness and he realised she at least suspected his depth of affection for the Queen. It drove him further from her; he did not want to share his heart, did not want to unburden his soul. It was their shared grief that bridged the distance between Loghain and Maric and in an attempt to stabilize both their relationship and what was still a recovering country, the two men agreed to the betrothal of their children. Celia raised her concerns that perhaps a betrothal when they were of age would be more suitable, but Loghain would not be swayed. He began to spend more time in Denerim than in Gwaren. He knew he was running from his wife and daughter and steeled himself, better this than Anora growing up in a house echoing with arguments that he would cause simply because Celia was not his lost love.

He glanced down on the dark streets beyond the palace gardens. His last visit to Gwaren had been nearing four months ago. The week had actually been pleasant, one of the few times he had been intimate with his wife since Rowan's death. He was surprised she had accepted his advances, but perhaps more surprised he had made them. He had been looking for a connection, something tangible to hold onto in the chasm between them. In truth he was tired of running; tired of denying himself the possibility of the warmth and affection of his wife, but he worried that too much silence was between them.

He glanced up at the sharp knock on the door and admitted the messenger. The parchment held the seal of Gwaren and his stomach plummeted, it was rare to receive any correspondence. Only when the messenger was gone did he break the seal, sinking into his seat as shock curled through his body.

Maric found him a while later having been aware of the messenger from Gwaren and wanting to ensure nothing was amiss. He paled when he saw his friend; Loghain's face was ashen, his hands trembling even as they clutched the parchment in his hands. Maric moved to him swiftly, resting a hand on his shoulder. "What is it my friend?"

Loghain glanced up at him, steel eyes showing his shock. "Celia is pregnant."

Maric raised an eyebrow and smiled. "Is that not cause for celebration?"

Loghain glanced back to the parchment. "I … I do not know."

Maric gently squeezed his shoulder. "It is time for you to go home my friend. Your family needs you."

"We have work …"

"Loghain must I order you home?"

Loghain lowered his eyes back to the parchment. "I am a terrible husband and father."

Maric sighed and took the seat opposite him. "We all have our shortcomings Loghain, but we do the best we can. Go home, be with your family." He gave a sad smile. "Believe me I know what I'm talking about; not being able to be with your child is a fate I would not wish on anyone. You have a choice; choose your family Loghain, the country will always be here."

xXx

During the days of the journey from Denerim to Gwaren Loghain played over in his mind the conversations he would have with Celia until he felt as though he was bordering on madness. In truth he had no idea what to say, no clue as to how to make right all he had done to wrong his family. He had barely acknowledged their presence and for that he could not imagine any forgiveness.

Pacing the deck he stared out at the waves as though they held the answers he sought. He had been absent for more of Anora's nine years than he cared to admit and he was deeply ashamed. Rubbing his neck he winced at the tension; his father, had he survived the Orlesian occupation would have been appalled, there had been nothing more important than family to him. So much time lost, squandered and ignored. The time between visits had become longer and he had used any excuse to stay away from Gwaren.

Finally a soft smile tugged at his lips as Loghain remembered the sheer awe he had experienced when Anora was born. Holding his baby girl in his arms for the first time had been unlike anything he had ever experienced. He had gazed down at the vulnerable, beautiful bundle in his arms and swore to protect her until his last breath. Sighing deeply Loghain gazed out over the waves; he had failed his family in so many ways. He had never imagined having another child and he was afraid of what it would mean. He clutched the rail swallowing the lump in his throat. "I will make it right and I will not make the same mistakes again."

xXx

Celia felt her heart flutter as Loghain entered the hall. Despite their difficult relationship he never failed to stir the desire within her. She had known him most of her life, their fathers having been friends most of theirs. Their farms had bordered each other's and they had spent a few stolen moments together; brief kisses with the promise of more before the rebellion had pulled them from each other. She was desperate to support him when the Orlesian's had killed his mother; his father being killed shortly after, but he was already gone and she was left with only prayers for his safe return.

Her father had fought in the rebellion; returning to find their farm burned to the ground, his wife dead and his daughter barely surviving in the woods. They had suffered and lost so much; so when Loghain proposed, Aelfraud gave his blessing to the union. Loghain was a hero and a man he was proud to have as his son in law.

Celia had realised very quickly that Loghain had little interest in their marriage other than doing his duty, which took on a whole new meaning when he became the Teyrn of Gwaren. She went from being a commoner to a Teyrna and initially struggled to cope, fearing the judgmental eyes of the court and her husband's absence. It was her father who soothed and strengthened her, not her husband. Aelfraud gently reminded her that the rebellion had changed many men and Loghain's focus still remained on defending Ferelden, fearing that the Orlesians would return. However Celia had her suspicions that it was not the pressures of his new role that kept him from his family, it was the reality that his heart ached for another. Yet she still held out hope year after year that he would realise what he was leaving behind each time he left Gwaren. Then having finally accepted that she and their daughter would never be enough for him she had discovered her second pregnancy. She had sat in shock and then wept in her father's arms. It had taken her days to write the simple letter to her husband fearing his reaction.

Celia glanced to her father and then to Anora who was looking torn between wanting to run into her father's arms and fearing rejection.

"Go greet your father Anora." Aelfraud said with a smile, pushing her gently.

Anora moved to her father hiding the nights she had spent crying because of his absence beneath a warm smile. "Hello father."

"Anora." Loghain stated awkwardly bending down and placing a kiss on her forehead. He sighed. "What about a hug?"

Anora shifted slightly, before she moved closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. She gave a tiny sniff. "I missed you."

Loghain swallowed hard. "I missed you too my beautiful girl." He looked to Celia words failing him.

Aelfraud slowly rose to his feet. "Come Anora; help an old man to his room, your parents have much to discuss."

Loghain gave a weak smile as Aelfraud patted his arm.

"Good to have you home my boy."

Loghain approached Celia and knelt beside her grateful for the warmth of the fire. His heart ached at her cautious gaze, gently holding her hands feeling their slight tremble. He gently pressed his lips to her palms and finally spilled out his heart; speaking the words that had caused the barrier between them. He told it all; from his passionate encounter with Rowan, the love they felt for each other and how he had broken their hearts for the good of Ferelden. Loghain gazed at his wife, uncertainty making him seem older than he was. "I have been a poor husband and father, but if you will give me a second chance I swear I will do all in my power to make it right."

Celia sighed and gently squeezed his hands. "You are my husband and I love you, I have always loved you. I want this child, but what I want more than anything is for us to be a family."

Loghain bowed his head and then gently leaned closer and pressed a soft kiss to her lips before gently rested a hand on the slight rounding of her stomach. "I will make myself worthy of you and our children Celia, I swear it."

xXx

Running around the large oak waving his wooden sword Garrett Hawke yelled at the pirates to turn over their treasure. The pirates in question being several large bushes and a log. He heard a cry of pain from his mother and froze. He crept closer to their home hearing his father's soothing voice. After several more minutes of pained cries Garrett wondered if it had hurt this much when he was born. His momentary flash of worry was banished when he heard a new cry. He raced into the house staring wide eyed at his father who held a small bundle in his arms.

Malcolm gazed at his daughter; his heart pounding, feeling such a rush of love and pride he could barely contain himself. He glanced up to Leandra as she gave a choked sob as another contraction pulled at her body. He moved to his son. "Garrett I need to help your mom, can you sit in the rocking chair and hold your sister?"

Garrett nodded eagerly racing over to get settled, holding out his arms and carefully embracing the baby girl.

Malcolm kissed his forehead; at six years old Garrett was an utter joy, mischievous, but deeply caring. "Hold her gently."

Garrett nodded unable to take his eyes from the baby in his arms. His voice was soft when he spoke, sounding slightly awestruck. "I'm Garrett. I'm your brother."

Malcolm smiled and hurried back to Leandra. Less than an hour later he held his new born son in his arms. Leandra was sleeping having exhausted herself. Malcolm had cleaned both Leandra and the bed, administering a healing potion before she sank into sleep. Though they were secluded enough, he did not dare take the risk of using magic. Should they be discovered Leandra was in no state to travel and he had no intention of being ripped from his family. He glanced to Garrett who was still holding his sister; she had cried a little, but had been quickly soothed. He moved over to introduce Garrett to his brother.

"They are amazing." Garrett whispered.

Malcolm gently kissed all three of his children. "You are all amazing."

It was little over a week later when they received word that Leandra's parents had died. She lay in bed torturing herself with all the things she should have said, aching for one more chance to return home and try to make things right between them. Still weak from the birth she couldn't face the journey back to Kirkwall, and she could not be forgiven by corpses. Days passed by in a haze of weeping and sleeping. Nothing Malcolm said or did could soothe her and to his alarm she all but ignored their children, only allowing the twins near to her when they needed to be fed. Desperate to bring her out of her depression and despair Malcolm placed the babies next to her and took Garrett out for the day forcing Leandra to care for them. He did the same for the next three days ignoring when she cursed him and called him uncaring, pushing her because she had responded to nothing else.

Forced with having to care for her children Leandra made herself get out of bed each morning simply going through the motions until they heard word that a group of Templars were in the small village less than a mile from them asking questions. When it became clear the Templars were looking for Malcolm they had no choice. With a sad and weary heart he piled his family and what belongings and supplies they could take with them into the cart and set out once more, hoping that their next stop could be permanent.

Their forced flight had one positive element; it brought Leandra out of her depression and refocused her attention on her family and the present. As they set off Leandra gently squeezed Malcolm's hand remaining silent, but her eyes held only compassion. She knew she could not repair the relationship with her own parents, but her family was here and she would be damned before she lost it because of the Templars.

xXx

Teagan smiled warmly as Alistair ran towards him grasping his leg before holding up his arms to be held.

"Teagan!" He cried out excitedly.

"My Alistair you're getting big."

Alistair gave him a heart stopping smile as Teagan picked him up and he hugged the Bann's neck.

Teagan carried him through to the study smiling at his brother. "I discovered this young man running around the garden getting into all kinds of mischief."

Eamon chuckled. "That brother is what Alistair does best." He held out his arms and embraced the boy, smiling warmly as Alistair hugged him. "It's a very special day today Alistair, it's your second name-day."

Alistair clapped happily, his eyes widening when Eamon pulled out a small package from a drawer in his desk.

Eamon sat Alistair on the desk holding his waist to keep him steady and handed him the parcel. Both men chuckled as Alistair seemed fascinated with the ribbon and parchment concealing the contents. A delighted shriek and excited thank you moments later revealed a cloth knight with the emblem of Redcliff which Alistair promptly began to chew. Eamon shook his head slightly, but smiled tousling Alistair's hair.

Teagan grinned and handed Alistair his own present.

Still with the knight in his mouth Alistair reached out to run his fingers over the smooth surface of the carved horse. He grinned and sat the knight on the horse grinning at the two men, before lavishing them both with kisses. He glanced up as Isolde entered the study holding out his arms to her.

Isolde looked to the boy; to the knight and horse, turned and left without a word leaving her lips.

Eamon sighed; rubbing his forehead in frustration. "Teagan will you take Alistair out; perhaps down to the village, it would be best if Isolde did not see him again today."

Teagan gently pulled Alistair into his arms whose attention was once more on his presents, each one grasped in his hands. "Eamon she cannot treat him this way."

"What would you have me do? She believes he is mine and no words of mine will sway her. If Maric would only allow us to marry …"

Teagan sighed and nuzzled Alistair's nose as he began chewing once more on the knight. "Come on Alistair; let's go down to the lake."

Alistair smiled happily leaning over to kiss Eamon before they left the study.

Eamon sighed and went to find Isolde wondering what he could say to allay her fears and suspicions.

xXx

Isolde glared out of the window watching Teagan hold onto Alistair's hand as they walked out of the gates. She felt Eamon's presence rather than heard him, but did not turn.

"My love?"

"You say such words so easily, yet how can I be sure you mean them when your betrayal is so obvious." She gave a tortured sigh. "I understand you have needs, but I will not become a whore for our love. I will not be unmarried when I come to your bed. Eamon I do understand your frustrations; believe me I am just as frustrated. I … I have come to accept that you will lay with others, but why must you keep the result of your activities where I must endure it day after day?" She shuddered as Eamon's hands rested on her arms.

"Isolde since we declared our love for each other I have never lain with another. I have told you Alistair is not mine. What can I do to prove that to you?"

Isolde turned, desperate to believe him. "Send him from here. If he is not yours you have no obligation to him."

"Isolde I cannot. I made a vow to care for Alistair."

"A vow to whom?"

"Forgive me love but I cannot reveal Alistair's true father."

Isolde turned from him, a small sob rushing past her lips. "I cannot bear it! Have I not proven myself to Ferelden? I gave up my family, my country." She turned back to Eamon. "I love you, is that not enough? Why must we live this half-life simply because of the country of my birth?"

Eamon gently pulled Isolde into his embrace. "One day it will be different my love. One day Maric will see sense and allow us to marry."

Isolde shuddered and clung to his chest. "It will be when I am too old to bear you a son. He does it deliberately so there is no Orlesian claim to this land!"

"Isolde the occupation was a terrible time and people have long memories, but I swear one day it will be different. One day we will have our own family."

xXx

As winter approached with the arrival of Firstfall and the Satinalia celebrations died down, Anora gazed at her mother and the bump which had grown dramatically in the last two months. "He's taking his time in being born." Anora muttered. Having been waiting patiently for her baby brother to arrive; now it was almost time, every second seemed to drag.

Celia shifted slightly feeling a spasm of discomfort. "He will arrive when he is ready, although you could easily find yourself with a sister."

Anora shook her head, she was a wilful child and when she set her mind on something she invariably got it. "He's a brother."

Loghain chuckled. "Well then I hope for your sake the child is a boy." He glanced up as Celia gave a low moan, her waters breaking moments later. Loghain took Anora from the room leaving his wife in the capable care of the midwife, though the only thing keeping him calm was his daughter's hand in his. Loghain flinched at Celia's cries of pain and they moved swiftly, joining Aelfraud in the Great Hall.

Anora sat next to her grandfather picking up a book and reading aloud as Loghain paced before the fire. Hours seemed to pass until she grew too restless to sit and went to the garden staring at the first snowfall of winter. Reaching out her hand she caught a snowflake, turning sharply as she heard a baby's cry. Anora raced back inside; helping her grandfather to his feet, the three making their way to Celia's room.

Loghain moved to his wife's side; she was pale, but alive which he thanked the Maker for. In her arms was a tiny bundle, a head of black hair just visible.

Celia smiled. "Anora was right, we have a son."

Aelfraud pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Well done my darling."

Loghain felt his breath catch as he took the bundle from his wife and gazed at his son who yawned and grasped his finger before his eyelids fluttered closed. He glanced around at Anora who was tugging at him desperate to see her baby brother.

Anora gazed at him with wide eyes. Very gently she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his tiny nose. His eyes opened, fingers drifting against her hair. Anora smiled happily and kissed him again before sitting in a chair next to her mother. "He's perfect." She whispered. A sentiment her parents and grandfather agreed with.

"Welcome to the family Jayden William Mac Tir." Loghain stated softly. "My son."