It took another full day for the storm to die down, but as soon as it had Gale and Samuel were back on the road. They made sure not to push their horses too hard, but they tried to shave off as much travel time as they could. Especially with Gale's feeling of worry and dread growing.

They rode until they found the ferry the young boy had told Gale about, loaded up their horses and were ferried across Lake Calenhad to the docks near Milverton. Once they unloaded the ferry, they quickly found their way to Milverton to restock their supplies and tried to save more time by cutting through the Bannorn.

Finally, after nearly two weeks, Gale sighed in relief at the sight of Denerim rising in the near distance.

"We made it."

"That we did." Samuel looked from the city to Gale, seeing the relief still mixed with worry. "Let's hurry and get you home."

Gale glanced at him and nodded, following suit as he urged his gelding forward.

They made their way to the capital city of Ferelden, stopping at the stables before hurrying to get to the bakery. Samuel followed Gale as she led the way, weaving through the throngs of people and buildings. He turned a corner and he noticed she had halted at the end of the alleyway they had cut through, sensing that something was wrong. When he reached her, he made to ask her what was the matter only to have his question answered with his own eyes: a run down looking shop, clearly a bakery, stood with broken window panes and the front door busted in as if an enemy army had stormed a castle.

"Gale?"

Gale stared in fear at the damage done to her father's bakery. She stood there for a moment or two, as if dazed by what she saw, then something clicked in her mind and she ran into the ruined building- calling out to her father.

Samuel followed after her, looking at the damage done. 'Windows smashed, door shattered, tables and chairs overturned... who did her father get involved with?'

"Da!"

Samuel looked over as Gale ran into another room and followed after her, finding her kneeling in front of an elven man who looked twenty years older than he actually was. 'So this is Varrian Mustela?'

Varrian was a fifty-three year old city elf, born and raised in Denerim. In his youth, he had dark chestnut brown hair and brilliant blue eyes, but now at his age and with the stress he faced, both had grayed and lost their luster.

"Da, what happened?"

Varrian looked up at his daughter, feebly. "Gale..?"

"I'm here, Da." Gale touched her father's cheek and her brow furrowed heavily with worry. "What happened?"

"I couldn't pay in time... they destroyed everything..."

"Who?"

"The Kennedys, big merchant family." Gale said, looking from her father to Samuel as Varrian's head hung in shame for a moment to answer before returning her attention to her father. "What happened to the money I was sending, Da?"

"They just kept increasing the interest..." Varrian said, shoulders heavy as he fought the urge to weep at the thought of losing everything and his daughter seeing him at his lowest. "As soon as I would get close to paying it off..."

Samuel watched as Gale hugged her father, trying to comfort him and tell him it was going to be alright. He looked around, trying to imagine what the bakery looked like in its prime, seeing the craftsmanship built into every rafter and eave, the love and attentiveness etched into every crevice. He turned and walked away, leaving a questioning Gale and her forlorn father confused. He ignored her as she called to him, even as she ran to the doorway and looked out into the streets- only to find him gone.

Gale stood there, a heaviness in her chest that was different than what she felt around her father. 'I guess that's it then... not even a goodbye...'

Hours went by and Gale had put her father to sleep upstairs before going about cleaning up what was left of the bakery. Everything that had been smashed or shattered was swept up, everything that was still in tact was placed back where it belonged. Gale sighed, wondering how it could have ever gotten this bad and began feeling incredibly guilty for leaving her father alone to join the Inquisition. Even if she was sending money to help get him out of debt and save the bakery that he and her mother had built from the ground up.

'I shouldn't have left him alone...'

Gale needed a break from cleaning, so she left a note for her father on his bed side table and headed out. She walked through the streets aimlessly for a bit before she realized that she had found her way to the gates of the castle.

'Why am I here..?'

Sighing, she stared up at the stone walls that kept the common folk and any intruders from entering the castle grounds.

'What kind of king would let things get as bad as they have for the common folk? Especially when he himself comes from a humble background?'

Shaking her head, Gale made to turn and continue on her way, but she was stopped at the gates.

"Serah, one moment please?"

Gale turned back to the speaker, finding a tall young man- barely in his thirties- with straw colored hair and amber eyes. She felt as if she knew him from somewhere, but he was dressed very plainly and it had been a long time since she was in Denerim. "Can I help you with something?"

"You look troubled. I was wondering if there might be something I can do?"

Gale sighed and shook her head. "Unless you can punish a merchant lord for abuse, harassment, destruction of property, and stealing, then no, I'm afraid not."

"Have one of the merchant families been troubling you?"

"It's really nothing you can do, good ser. It's just what happens when the rich take advantage of the poor. Besides, I've already tried everything I can think of, even reaching out to the king for an audience, but nothing has helped or been done."

"I may not be able to help, but I could at least lend an ear." the man said. "Sometimes, it just helps to talk." He gestured to a spot nearby where they could sit. "Humor me?"

Gale looked at him curiously, but she gave in and took a seat on the nearby bench. "Where do I even start?"

"How about from the beginning?"

And so Gale told this stranger everything she knew about her father's situation, how he had been desperate to save the one thing left that they had in memory of Kalysta Mustela, how no matter what they did to pay off his debts Varrian would still somehow be in debt- even more so than before- and now how she had come home to find the bakery destroyed and her father broken.

"I am so sorry."

Gale just shrugged, sighing as she looked up at the sky. "It's not your fault. Besides, the common folk always lose against the rich and powerful. And since we're elves, too, that just makes things even more difficult. I just hate seeing Da so broken, so lost, and not be able to help." She stood, bowing to the stranger. "Thank you for listening, good ser. It did help to talk about it." She looked off in the direction of home and sighed. "I should get back, though, make sure Da is still alright." She bowed again, thanking him once more before she headed back to the bakery.

As she disappeared into the night, the stranger who took the time to listen to her stood. "Poor girl..."

"There you are!"

The stranger looked over as one of the guards came running up to him. "What is it?"

"There's someone demanding an audience with you."

"Who?"

"He said it was an old friend."

The stranger nodded and followed the guard onto the castle grounds, up into the castle itself, and down the halls into the king's study. When he stepped through the door and saw who was waiting for him, he couldn't help but smile.

"Well, if it isn't Samuel Trevelyan."

Samuel looked over from where he stood near the window and returned the smile. "It's been a long time, Alistair."

The stranger who had taken the time to listen to Gale's troubles was in fact Alistair Theirin, the King of Ferelden. He and Samuel had known each other for years, having met shortly after the Blight during the relief and restoration efforts. They worked together to put Ferelden back together- as best as they could- and Samuel used his contacts from his mercenary days to bring in extra supplies for the citizens who suffered the most when the Blight ravaged the lands.

Alistair and Samuel embraced, clapping each other on the shoulders before stepping back and getting a good look at each other.

"Maker, it's been what, six years now?"

"At least."

"So what brings you back to Denerim?"

"That's actually why I came to see you."

"Is everything alright?"

"My friend needs help and I can't do anything to assist her. Not without blood shed."

"I see. And you've come to me to ask for my help in the matter?"

Samuel nodded. "A favor, if you will."

"A favor for Samuel Trevelyan? Now that's a surprise." Alistair chuckled. "What can I do to help?"