Ironically the cheap ale was only the second most bitter thing in the Blooming Rose that night. Gamlen took another big gulp in an effort to steady his hands before reaching for the crumpled piece of parchment yet again.

Over and over he had read the letter and still he felt the bile in his throats as he glanced over at the first words. "Dear Gamlen" – even after all these years he recognised her handwriting, it had always been irritatingly perfect.

It was the previous day when none other than bloody Guard Captain Ewald had grabbed him in Lowtown but instead of arresting him for - well there was always something wasn't there? – he took him aside and handed him the letter. "Someone who claims to be your sister is in the Gallows."

Ewald had looked bemused and slightly entertained by the idea. But of course, his sister probably looked perfect even after two weeks at sea and if she had blabbered about him being a noble, well it was a wonder Ewald had not laughed Gamlen in the face.

He sighed and read the letter again.

Malcom, dead, three years ago and now Leandra and her children had fled the Blight. The Blight. There had been rumours in Kirkwall of course but there were always rumours. Then the refugees had started spilling about a week ago. Or was it two?

King Cailan of Ferelden dead. Murdered said some, died foolishly or even heroic according to others. The Grey Wardens were gone. Traitors who murdered the king said one rumour. It was hard to know what to believe but one thing was clear – people were fleeing Ferelden and they were coming here. He would never have believed that Leandra would set her foot in Kirkwall again. She had not even showed up for the funerals despite receiving words. He noticed that the letter was crumpled in his hands again, sighed, and tried to smooth out the creases.

The letter mentions the estate, that it should be big enough to house her and her two children. Two, not three. Bethany had died on their way here. He felt a tug in his chest at the thought of that. Strange how it works. He had never met the girl and only heard about her very briefly in his sisters few letters and yet, it was hard not to picture her like her remembered Leandra the last time he had seen her. They were close in age. Had she looked like Leandra? Or like Malcolm? Maybe a little of both. Well, now he would never know. He scoffed as he read the part about the estate again. One of the serving girls behind him steered away. The estate was long gone but he had never told her. How could he when he didn't know where she was? And why would he tell her, she had left them. The estate had been his; his damn right and there was nothing she could do about it now. He chugged what was left of the ale and slammed the cup down on the bar. The thought of it all left a bitter taste at the back of his throat - worse than the ale.

His mother, so struck with grief that she refused to eat or see anyone, and his father that hid away in his office. Neither talking to him, their thoughts were occupied of one thing and one thing only – Leandra. Then they got the cholera. Gamlen was already taking care of the estate as it was but now he had to take care of them as well. Feed them, clean them, change the sheets, wipe the sweat of their brows and the drool of their chins. He did it all, he had stayed damn it! But they just kept asking for Leandra. Standing by their bedside it was like they didn't even notice him. To hear them ask for her over and over, Gamlen had felt like he was going insane.

If it hadn't been for Mara… No, don't think of Mara. He did not have enough money to go down that road tonight. He waved to the barkeep to give him another. The man made a snide comment about paying upfront, Gamlen tossed him the coin. The second ale went down easier than the first, it always did.

He had a choice. He could pretend like he didn't know who these people were and hope that they would go somewhere else; she could forget about the estate, Kirkwall and him; like she had done all those years ago. Or he could go down to the Gallows and face his sister. He hadn't done anything wrong, not really. He had to do something to occupy his time, he was not the only one gambling. And the trade deal was good. Or it was supposed to be. Anyone could end up in debt. He had done what he had to do. And if she hadn't left maybe he would not have started to gamble in the first place? If she had married that noble she would have been a comtesse and the family would have been better off. She had no right to come here and judge him!

Out of ale and out of coin he got up from his chair. He would go find her in the Gallows in the morning. No point in going there tonight. He would tell her that he simply didn't have the coin to help her get inside and hope that she would go elsewhere. Why did that make him feel guilty? They were no family of his, Leandra had made that clear when she had left and never looked back.

Loud voices echoed through the streets; he looked up. Oh great, Athenril was at it again. He hurried his gait not wanting to cross paths with her tonight.

"Gamlen."

Shit.

Gamlen sighed, did the boat really have to swing as much as it did? Despite not drinking that much the night before he felt hung over like he had emptied a keg on his own. A sleepless night will do that to you just as well it would seem. The morning light stung his dry eyes and the sloshing of waves against the hull was far too loud. He really didn't want to do this, but what else could he do? This would get his sister and her family into Kirkwall, it was the only way. Two children, the eldest and the boy. Or man now Gamlen supposed. Had been a part of the Ferelden army so he assumed the lad had some skills. And the girls, well girl now. "They are just like their father". He knew far too well what that meant. Mages. "Damn it Leandra." Gamlen rested his head in his hands. She had to bring a damned mage to the bloody Gallows.

He remembered Malcolm. Of course he did. They had met when the Viscount had held a banquet for some Grand Duchess of Orlais. Malcolm had been one of the mages to perform parlour tricks to entertain the nobles. Gamlen and Leandra had both been there. The young mage had caught the attention of his sister because of course he had. If only she had been at all interested in her betrothed, the son of comte what's-his-face. But no, she wanted to talk to the mage with "pretty blue eyes" and Gamlen had obliged. He helped his sister sneak out on the balcony and had Malcolm join her. He remembered her smile and the way Malcolm had looked at her – she had looked splendid of course. They had spent the rest of the evening hidden away together while Gamlen acted as their lookout. And this continued after the banquet. How could he not have helped them? His sister had fallen head over heals and there was no doubt Malcolm felt the same way. The Circle had been a different place back then, Kirkwalls mages had far more freedom, still their relationship had to be kept a secret.

Until that was not possible anymore.

Their father had sent the templars after Malcolm, Gamlen had no idea how he had managed to get away. But somehow he returned to Kirkwall in the company of Grey Wardens and neither the templars nor the Amells could touch him. Leandra was given the choice to go with him or stay in Kirkwall. She had left.

Left Kirkwall. Left Lord and Lady Amell. Left Gamlen.

The boat hit the dock and Gamlen raised his head. She was here. Somewhere on this small island, she had returned in need of his help. The night before laid heavy on his mind, but what choice did he have? He didn't have the coin and the name Amell meant nothing anymore. Athenril had been more than a little happy to hear he could bring a mage to her group of smugglers. She was willing to forget that debt he had with her in exchange for that. He hoped the girl was good, but he figured with Malcolm as a father she had to have some talent for magic right? And they hadn't been caught or killed so far so that's something. Her excitement had given Gamlen an idea, so he had reached out to another person he owed money. Meeran had also seen the appeal in having a mage in his ranks. This could work. His family (a word that felt so strange on his tongue) would be let into the city, he would be able to remove a large portion of his debts and one group would get two new sets of hands to use. Everybody wins. Or at least he hoped so. At least no one would lose on the deal. Probably.

"Are you getting off?"

Right, Gamlen left the boat. So many refugees. They were everywhere. The sun was glaring and his steps heavy. Hollow faces staring back at him and among them guards glaring. But then there, it had to be them! Two heads with jet black hair and piercing blue eyes staring right through him, there was no doubt about it. And next to them, the spitting image of their mother, could only be his sister. She looked tired and drained, they all did, but she still looked good. Annoyingly so. There was a warmth in her eyes when he approached her. Strange yet familiar.

Alright Gamlen, there's no turning back now.

"Leandra! Damn, girl, the years haven't been kind to you."