[Author's Note: Here's the latest installment! In which we meet one new character and one old friend. Please read and review.]

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Chapter Ten:

Family Reunion

Anders and Sarai made their way back to the farmhouse with Tam, Marie, and Peter in tow. The young family had brought only what they could carry on their backs; there was little of value in their cottage, anyway.

"We shouldn't go through Wheat's End again," Anders told Sarai. "It'll be longer, but we should skirt around the village."

"Why? Something worrying you?"

"I think we attracted too much attention as it was yesterday. I'm not exactly, ah, poor Bannorn farmer material," he said, gesturing at his feathered pauldrons and staff. "For that matter, neither are you."

Sarai looked down at her armor—the best money could buy—and glanced at the blades that hovered menacingly around her shoulders like a blood-tinged halo. "All right. We'll cut south of the village."

Even with the detour, they arrived at the farmhouse before night had completely covered the plains. Lenora, in her usual manner, welcomed the newcomers warmly and set about preparing a meal for them.

"So this must be the little mage Wynne was telling us about. Oh, isn't he just a precious little thing? My, you all look famished. We've already eaten supper, but there's always extra in the bottom of the pot. We'll make sure you don't go to bed hungry."

Anders couldn't help but grin as he clapped Tam on the shoulder. The parents looked positively stunned by the display of unearned hospitality—probably exactly how Anders and Sarai had looked themselves when they arrived at the farmhouse. "Welcome to Lenora's kitchen. You will never go to bed hungry again."

~—~

It was three days later that their first unexpected visitors arrived. Sarai and Anders were going over some details with Voldrik when they heard shouts from the farmhouse, on the other side of the hill. Rushing back, they saw Varric standing outside, placing himself between their friends and the angry-looking mob. Sarai recognized a few faces from when they had passed through Wheat's End. Varric's hand strayed towards Bianca.

"What's going on?" Sarai said sharply, her voice cutting across the remaining distance as her legs stretched to close it.

"You're all a bunch of Blighted mages!" One man in the crowd shouted.

"Apostates!" Added another. "Abominations!"

The rest of the crowd shouted their agreement. Torches and pitchforks, Sarai thought with irritation. I always did hate angry mobs. She felt Anders move beside her, the air between them shivering with energy. "No," she murmured to him. "Don't confirm their suspicions, it will only lead to bloodshed. We will take care of this."

Anders breathed through his nose angrily, but clamped down on his emotions. "I trust you," he whispered, almost too quietly for her to hear.

Sarai moved to stand next to Varric. Anders flanked her on the other side. "We are not causing you any trouble," she told the first man who had spoken. "We ask only to be left alone." Her words were diplomatic, but her tone was still sharp.

"The Templars ought to send you all to the Void!" he snarled in response.

"Go. Away." Sarai said firmly. "I will not tell you again."

The crowd shifted like a growing wave. They were on the brink of breaking into violence. Sarai drew one of her blades and took a step forward. "You face no threat from these people. But if you do not leave now, peaceably, you will face a grave threat from me." She lowered the blade so it caught the bright sunshine. "Do you really want to find out how adept I am at using these?"

Anders' eyes were on his lover, but he could see the edges of the mob starting to dissipate, slinking away shame-faced. When the ringleader looked over his shoulder for support, he found it greatly diminished. He turned back to Sarai and gulped audibly.

"Go," she said, her voice softer now. "Do not come here again, and you will encounter no trouble from us."

He fell over himself as he stumbled away. With a brief backwards glance, he took off down the dirt road and was gone, the few remaining villagers following in his wake. Sarai nodded to the others and went back to her work.

Later that night, they received their second unexpected visitors.

~—~

Two mages stumbled over the rough ground. They were both young women, although one was nearly a decade older than the other, who was still a teenager. The older mage grabbed the hand of her companion and pulled her to her feet.

"Come on. We don't know if the Templars are still tracking us. We can't afford to stop."

"I'm so tired," the younger one replied. "I can't keep running, I just can't."

"We must be getting close to your parents' home, right? Help me find it, and we can rest once we get there." The older mage kept to herself another thought: Even if we find it, we'll have to start running again before long. There's no safety in staying in one place. It would only put her family in danger. A wave of guilt washed over her as she remembered her own family, and the dangers they had faced for her sake.

The younger girl slowed her pace and looked around. "The Bannorn all looks the same..." she said hesitantly. "Wait! I think I remember that cluster of trees! We must be close!" Suddenly filled with new energy, she took off in the direction of the trees.

The pair crested a hill and looked down. They could see a line of smoke rising from a chimney off to the left. To their right, they could see an impressive structure rising out of the plains, though the scaffolding indicated that it was unfinished.

"What is that?" gasped the young mage. "That definitely wasn't here before."

"But we're close, then?"

She pointed to the smoke. "That must be it. It's been ten years, but I'm almost certain that's it."

Once again, she rushed forward, desperate to see her home again. She hardly dared to think about all the awful possibilities—that they had been killed by the Darkspawn, or been starved out by the Blight. The mage had seen so much suffering since the Tower had fallen and she had fled for her life. What if her parents had been caught up in that? Or what if they didn't want anything to do with her, cursed as she was with magic?

She squeezed tears out of her eyes and ran faster. Before long, she was stumbling up to the farmhouse, confused by the small army of tents and—Are those dwarves? Then she saw the open door and forgot about everything else. She moved toward it, heart pounding painfully, and dared to look inside. There was a motley group of people around the table. She recognized Wynne, her mentor and friend from the Circle. She saw her father's face. His eyes met hers and he shot to his feet.

"Kristine?" he cried. "Oh, Maker! Lenora, it's our Kristine! It's our little girl!" An instant later, she was caught up in a tight embrace, sandwiched between her two parents. Lenora smoothed her hair and sobbed into her shoulder. Roger clapped her on the back, kissing her forehead.

Another figure darkened the door of the farmhouse. The setting sun shone around her dark locks. Nervously, the mage looked past her companion's tearful reunion and into the kitchen. Now it was Sarai's turn to stand, shocked. "Bethany?"

~—~

"I can't even believe you're here! Out of every farmhouse in Ferelden—no, Thedas—you happen to be in the one I stumble into?"

"I didn't even know you had come to Ferelden!" The sisters sat across from one another on the bed Sarai shared with Anders. They seemed hardly to know whether to be overjoyed or angry.

After the destruction of the Kirkwall Chantry, Sarai had sided with the mages, as she had always known she would. How could she not, with everything her father had taught her? With Bethany standing right there? Her loyalty to her family had been even greater than her loyalty to Anders, though they led her to the same decision.

Yet once Meredith was dead, and Sarai preparing to flee the city, Bethany had refused to remain with her sister. "The mages here, the ones who survived, will need me. I can't abandon them," she had said. "It's too dangerous! Come with us. I swear I'll protect you!" Sarai had answered. With a gentle hand on her sister's shoulder, Bethany had shaken her head again. "It's been a long time since you protected me, sister. It's too late for that. I have to make my own path."

Now, here they were, side by side. "What happened?" Sarai asked gently, trying to bridge over years of distance. She doubted that Bethany blamed her for being taken to the Gallows. But their relationship had never been the same after that day.

"I fled Kirkwall with the other mages. To be honest, I think Cullen was happy to let us go. I think he was ready to live and let live, after everything that happened." Bethany looked down at her hands, remembering. "We didn't stay together long. There was one mage who stayed with me for a while. We made it all the way to Orlais before the Templars there caught up to us. He—he stayed to fight them. Gave me time to escape." A few tears fell, signs of a greater grief she had covered over.

"I stayed along the coast, coming all the way into Ferelden. When I heard that the Tower here had rebelled, I started looking for other runaway mages. I met Kristine not far from Lake Calenhad. She said she was trying to find her way back to her parents. So I came along. And here you are, as if you'd been waiting for me." She gave a half-smile and looked back at her sister. "What about you?"

"We crossed the Waking Sea and went to Amaranthine. We kept moving, and lost companions along the way, like you. And then—" she sighed. "Do you remember Sebastian Vael?"

"Wasn't he the last son of Starkhaven, sworn to the Chantry?"

Sarai nodded. "And after the explosion, the eventual Prince of Starkhaven. Sworn to take revenge on Anders."

"Wait. I heard rumors that the Prince of Starkhaven was killed on Ferelden soil. It's supposed to be a diplomatic crisis for Queen Anora. Are you saying you murdered him?"

Sarai snorted. "Hardly. Varric killed him. And more importantly, he deserved it."

"No one has the talent for collecting enemies that you do, sister." Bethany shook her head, torn between amusement and exasperation. "So what happened next?"

"Well, the Templars found me right after Sebastian did. Wynne was with them. And... well, it's a long story. Suffice it to say that the Templars died and Wynne led Anders and I here."

"What are you doing here, anyway? And why is there a whole camp of dwarves outside?"

"We're building a school," Sarai admitted.

"That big building on the other side? You're building a school? That seems... terribly normal of you."

"It's a school for mages. Apostates, if you want to be technical."

"Ah, now it all begins to make sense." Bethany shook her head again. "Sometimes I just can't believe you. A school for mages. An alternative to the Circle?"

"There is no Circle, not anymore. This is what will stand for the future. A sanctuary, a refuge of safety for mages where they can learn together."

"You sound just like Anders, you know that?"

Sarai gave a girlish smile as a little color bloomed on her cheeks. "Well, we spend a lot of time together, you know." She grew serious again. "Will you stay with us, Bethany? I want you to be a part of this. I wanted to send word to you."

Bethany studied her sister's face, considering what she offered. "You want me to be a teacher? Share what I know with other mages?"

"Please?" Sarai tried not to beg, but her voice betrayed her.

"I suppose I don't have anywhere else to go, do I?" Bethany answered. "All right, sister. You can count on me."

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