Thanks for reading, all, and for the positive response to Carver's return. I look forward giving Lucas a family back - even if it might not all be the sweetness and light he might hope for!
The man in the bed struggled to sit up. "L-Lucas?"
"Maker's breath!" Lucas turned to call to Isabela. "Hurry, please. Got your lockpicks?"
"Is the Divine old and wrinkly?" She took the lockpicks out of the pouch at her waist and got to work on the cell. "Is that your brother?" she asked under her breath. Inside the cell, Carver was lying back, eyes closed, his breathing harsh, echoing off the stone walls. "The one who …"
"The one I thought was dead, yes."
How could it be Carver? Lucas had last seen him as they fled Lothering, standing against an onslaught of darkspawn. He had been badly wounded by the ogre; how was it possible he hadn't been killed, either in battle or by the taint?
Varric and Fenris had caught up by this point. "Hawke, there is nothing about you that isn't weird," the dwarf said after a hasty sizing-up of the situation.
"Can't help but agree with you." Lucas held onto the bars, staring at his brother, waiting impatiently for the click that would mean Isabela had finished with the lock. As soon it came, he pushed the door open and knelt at his brother's side. "Water. Hurry, please."
Varric, always on the lookout for his creature comforts, had stocked up while they were making their way through the Carta-held lower parts of the tower. He handed Lucas a canteen, and then a small squat bottle. "Antivan brandy. Give him just a swallow; it'll get his blood going."
Carefully, Lucas fed his brother a swallow of the brandy, and then an equally carefully measured amount of water. Not knowing how long it had been since Carver had last had something to drink, he didn't want to overwhelm his stomach with too much at once.
Swallowing, Carver lay back, squinting at Lucas. "It—it is you, isn't it?"
"Yes. Carver, how—why—what—"
Varric chuckled. "I think what Hawke is trying to say is what's a nice kid like you doing in a darkspawn-infested tower like this?"
"W-who are you?" Carver asked, his voice a hoarse croak, and Lucas hastily gave him some more water.
"Introductions all around, then. This is Varric and Fenris and Isabela. They're … friends, from Kirkwall. Everyone, this is … this is my brother. Carver." Despite his attempt at breeziness, he could feel tears springing to his eyes. Of all the things he had expected … "Are you real?" he asked wonderingly, the question out before he could think whether it was the right one.
Carver propped himself up on an elbow. "I feel real," he said, starting to sound like his old self. "But this place … One minute, I'm in the practice yard, getting ready for a bout against Eddric the Anvil, and the next I'm locked up here by some crazy dwarves." He shook his head, taking another swallow of the water. "Until they started this nonsense about Malcolm Hawke's blood, I thought Eddric had paid them so he wouldn't have to fight me."
"You're a prize fighter?"
Carver nodded. "In Orlais." He eyed Lucas and the others. "And you …"
Isabela laughed at that.
Varric, chuckling as well, said, "Hawke's sort of a high-class mercenary."
Carver glanced at them, his eyes lingering on Isabela, and then looked back at Lucas. "In Kirkwall? Did you make it there?"
"Yes. I—" Suddenly it hit Lucas that Carver didn't know any of what had happened. "Uncle Gamlen …"
"Gamlen's a broke, drunken sot," Isabela said bluntly.
Lucas looked at her over his shoulder. "Thank you."
"Anytime."
"Not a rich noble like Mother always said? I bet she was mad when she found out." Carver took another long swallow, then pushed himself into a sitting position. "How is Mother?"
Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Lucas tried to prepare himself to say it. There was no easy way, so he didn't even try to soften the news. "Gone. Mother's gone. So is Bethany."
"What?! How can—Both of them?" Carver's face twisted. "I guess … I guess I knew that somehow. I kept thinking I should go to Kirkwall, try to see if you'd all made it, but I thought how ridiculous, how could you have gotten out of Lothering …" He looked at Lucas, frowning. "How did you get out of Lothering?"
"I could ask you the same question."
"It was a Grey Warden. He found me, fought off the darkspawn, got me to safety. It was the Maker's blessing that I wasn't already tainted, he said."
"A Grey Warden?" Lucas echoed. "But Flemeth told us they were out of reach."
"Who's Flemeth?"
"Oh, Junior, you're never going to believe this one," Varric said. "Flemeth is the nice old lady who turned into a dragon and carried your brother and sister and mother—"
"And Aveline," Fenris put in.
Varric glared at him; he hated to be interrupted. "I was getting to her. And Aveline, to Gwaren, where they found a ship bound for Kirkwall."
Carver rubbed a hand over his face. "I must still be delirious. I could swear he said 'the nice old lady who turned into a dragon'."
"He did. It's a bit of a long story, really."
"I thought I boiled it down nicely," Varric protested.
Carver swung his legs over the side of the cot, blinking for a moment. "Little dizzy. I think they may have hit me a few times."
"Judging by the bruises, more than a few," Isabela said.
Lucas stood up, looking at his friends. "Would you mind giving us a few minutes?"
"Sure."
The three of them left the cell; Lucas could hear their low voices as they moved down the hall.
"Interesting bunch," Carver observed.
"You have no idea. But … they're good friends, too. They were there for me when—"
"Tell me what happened to Mother and Bethany."
"Bethany—the taint. We went on an expedition into the Deep Roads about a year after we arrived in Kirkwall." Remembering her grey skin and clouded eyes, Lucas rubbed a hand over his face as though that would erase the vision. "It's how we met Varric—the dwarf. It was his brother who ran the expedition, but Bartrand—Varric's brother—went crazy and locked us in down there. We found our way out, but not before … It moved so fast," Lucas whispered. "So fast. I didn't even know she'd been wounded."
"I knew it. Somehow, I knew. I could even have guessed it was the taint." Carver shook his head. "Ironic, really—you leave me behind to fight darkspawn so you can escape, and Bethany's the one who ends up with the taint."
Lucas turned away, gripping the bars of the cell. "Mother—she … she was kidnapped by a man, a mage, who … he was creating a—a person, made in the image of his dead wife. It was—" He couldn't go on.
"You don't have to say any more. Please. Just—did you kill the bastard?"
"Yes. Yes, I did."
"Good." Carver sighed, a weary, mournful sound. "So … you live with Gamlen, back there in Kirkwall?"
Lucas gave a soft chuckle. "No. The expedition in the Deep Roads … we came back with quite a bit of treasure. Enough to buy back the Amell estate."
"Mother got to go home?" Carver asked. "I'm glad. I know she loved that house."
"She did. She was so happy there." Lucas turned to look at his brother, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. "I'm so sorry, Carver. So sorry I couldn't save them."
"Lucas." Carver got to his feet, swaying just a little before getting his balance. "It wasn't your fault."
"You weren't there. You don't know!"
"I don't have to have been there. You were our protector, since we were little. Anything we needed, anyone who threatened us, there was Father, and there was you. I know you did your best for them, and look how far you got! All the way to Kirkwall, back to Mother's home estate."
"Carver, will you—" Tears were flowing freely down Lucas's face now. "Will you come back with me, back to Kirkwall? So that we can be a family again? These past months, years, without them, without you …"
There were tears on Carver's face as well as he nodded, and then they were embracing, holding onto each other as if they never intended to let go again.
After a few moments, there was a discreet cough, and Lucas turned to see Fenris, his face averted out of respect for their privacy. "Hawke."
"Yes?" Lucas and Carver spoke together.
Fenris chuckled. "We may have to consider an alteration in nomenclature."
Carver's eyebrows rose, and Lucas hastily translated. "Most of Kirkwall just calls me Hawke. Mother … Mother mostly went by Mistress Amell once we were there; I think she hoped it would increase her chances of returning to the level of society she had come from, and Bethany … was Bethany." He looked at his brother. "With you along, maybe I can be Lucas for a change."
"Or, perhaps, Champion." Fenris smiled, nearly a guffaw from the normally stoic elf, and Lucas glared at him.
"Champion?" Carver echoed.
"Has he not revealed to you how he dueled a Qunari Arishok in single combat and thus was the instrument of removing the Qunari threat to Kirkwall entirely?"
"Must have slipped his mind," Carver muttered.
"It's not that important," Lucas said. "Except that it was only a little while ago, so I'm still recovering."
"Anything else I don't know?" Carver asked Fenris.
The elf shrugged. "Nothing I can think of. No doubt Varric and Isabela will have more stories." His eyes twinkled at Lucas, who felt an overwhelming desire to strangle his friend.
"You've picked a Void of a time to develop a sense of humor," he grumbled.
Fenris chuckled. "Varric and Isabela would like to know if we are going to be continuing our way through this tower at any point."
"Tell them we'll be there in a minute."
"I shall do so." The elf disappeared.
"He always talk like that?" Carver asked.
"Yes. Always. He's from Tevinter," Lucas explained. "He was a slave to a magister there; the markings you see on him are lyrium, branded directly into his skin."
"Maker."
"Exactly."
"And the other two? Varric and … Isabela?"
"Varric's a special case." Lucas grinned. "A story for every occasion, and no shortage of bravado, but the truest friend I've ever had."
"How did you find him?"
"He found me. He'd been watching me. The first year we were here, we worked for a smuggler." He rolled his eyes. "Uncle Gamlen sold our services to pay off his gambling debts."
"Charming."
"Exactly. But useful—we learned a lot. And impressed Varric, who found me one day and suggested we work together to get money to invest in his brother's Deep Roads expedition."
"That's … how you lost Bethany?"
"It was. The cost was greater than I would ever have been willing to pay." Lucas closed his eyes, seeing again her greying face. "But we came out of it rich men, able to buy back the Amell estate and give Mother back the status she had lost."
"Isabela, then?" Carver asked. The tone of his voice rather alarmed Lucas, who had not forgotten that Isabela was an incredibly beautiful and sexy woman, but had rather forgotten that she wasn't in any way marked as his. There was no way his brother could know what was between them … not least because Lucas himself wasn't sure what was between them. But he was damned sure he didn't want to see his brother go after her.
"I sort of stumbled on her," he said. "In the tavern where she and Varric live. And she's been with me ever since."
Carver gave him a sharp look. "With you? You mean—"
"At times. We're not … together, but …"
"You'd like to be."
"Yes? No? It's complicated." He looked at his brother. "Is there anyone you …?"
Carver laughed. "No, not me. Not the settling-down type."
Thinking of Carver's conquests in Lothering, Lucas grinned. "Some things never change. Still like a good scrap? I get the feeling there are a few waiting ahead of us."
"A chance to get back at the bastards who kept me in there? Lead on, brother."
