Author's Note: This may be absolutely terrible, but it was sort of for fun(If you can call horribly depressing scenes 'fun'). I couldn't help but be horrified by Leandra's death on my first play through and being relieved when Anders walked up behind me and then told me there was NOTHING HE COULD DO. WTF Anders? Why speak at all? But I felt like there were certain facets of such a sad scene that game couldn't really do justice to, so this is All That Remains, from Leandra's point of view. Give it a go and see what you think. Reviews always appreciated!

"Mother!"

They say there is nothing quite like the voice of one's own child. That a mother will know it even if it is but one tiny shout in a clamor of other voices, that it is the most cherished and lovely sound in the world. There is truth in this and it is something like magic. I, Leandra Hawke, may be no mage; but I would know Nayarie's voice anywhere.

The light is dim through my eyes, the limbs held together by thread and magic fail me and I slump to the ground. She catches me, cradling me in her arms. I can feel the weight of death come upon me as the magisters spell fades with his defeat. Poor man, he was so very sad…and so desperate.

"I knew you'd come." I smile up at her, the first of my children. She looks so much like Malcolm, she was even gifted with his magic, too.

"Mother! Father, look! Look what I can do!"

"If it's not practicing your letters, I'm not interes-oh my." A fiery alphabet is burned into the surface of our dinner table, my beaming little daughter proudly presenting her masterpiece. I cannot even find it within myself to be angry with her, I am so astonished. Malcolm brushes by me, lifting his little girl into his arms and tossing her up into the air playfully, laughing his full, beautiful laugh. Nayarie giggles, her blonde hair falling in her green eyes, so like her father's. They stand in a shaft of sunlight from the kitchen window, their features illuminated in the golden light.

"Look at that! My little girl's a mage and a scholar! What a work of art and such control for such a tiny thing." Malcolm leans over the table to examine the damage, strands of his shoulder length, honey colored hair falling in his eyes.

"Malcolm!"

"What? Oh, right! Of course. You mustn't go around burning things, Nayarie, it's very dangerous." He sets her on her feet and pokes a finger at her chest reprovingly. As I turn away, I hear him murmur. "Leastwise don't burn things you're mother'll miss."

"I can save you, mother. You'll be fine, I'll get you help- Anders!" The mage, with his pretty brown eyes, kneels beside my sweet, sobbing little girl. I wish she wouldn't cry. This Anders, he touches my little Nayarie's shoulder gently and he speaks:

"I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do. His magic was keeping her alive-"

"No! That cant be right, it cant be! We have to…I can-"

"Shush, my dear. Don't fret. He would have kept me trapped down here…but now, I'm free." A mother always knows her child's voice, and she always knows her child's tears. "I get to see Carver and Bethany again, and your father."

"Mummy! I'm having the nightmares again…about the templars coming to take away father-" Large, crystal tears trickle down her face, freezing to little icicles on her tiny chin. I pcik her up, wipe away the tears with my fingertips and kiss her furrowed brow.

"Nonsense, sweetheart. They'd never find us here, not in Ferelden."

"No! They come and take away father and Bethany and I cant stop them! My spells don't work and they hurt Carver and I have to protect you and I cant and they want to make us Tranquil-" Her little voice reaches a frantic pitch and I hug her all the more tightly to my breast.

"Shush, Nayarie. It was only dream. And besides, any templar who wants you and Carver and Bethany will have to come through me, first."

"I should have watched over you more closely! I should have-" Strangely, my memories are starting to blur, the little girl with the strong young woman. There is so much left of her life that I will miss…my sweet, honest child.

"Shush. I love you…" I look into her face one last time, see one crystalline tear that I lack the strength to brush away. I relax my patched and torn body, my gaze unwilling tracing over the stone ceiling. But then, I am not looking at stone of the foundries foundation at all. I am looking into the sun, into the face of my husband with each twin under one arm. The grass is soft beneath my feet, the Ferelden I walk into untainted and whole. I will love my little girl, even in this life. "I'm so proud of you."

Malcolm takes my hand and I leave Kirkwall forever to walk into an eternal sunset.