BROTHERS
The house was still. The halls were empty. All was quiet.
A muted glow cast shadows through the bedchamber, flickering with the movement of the candle flame. Soft sounds accompanied the golden light; sighs, whispers, brushing of skin.
Fenris steadied his breath, lungs making deep pulls of air, as his body slowly rocked with the rhythm of the man above him. Anders moved within him, gently stoking his passion. The mage was in no hurry. He marshaled his stamina, letting slow currents of pleasure carry them. He watched the man under him; his expression, his eyes, his body. There was no finer view worth his attention.
Fenris closed his eyes, feeling, listening. Anders' soft voice was a whisper in his ears.
"I can do this all night, love... keep you floating in a sea of pleasure. Giving you just enough to make you want... to keep you from falling. I love to watch you in your bliss... sweet Fenris... to watch your eyes as they fill with need. To watch your body come undone. To see the beauty of your face... the strength of your body..."
Fenris' body felt no strength, right then. He shuddered, his skin damp with sweat from the slow build the mage had set. Anders' soft voice sent flames through him. Another slow roll of pleasure moved over his body. "Anders..." his voice barely audible over the sigh that carried it.
"You're getting closer, I can feel it... Being inside of you is the closest to heaven this world offers..." Anders' whisper faltered. "Oh, Maker... Fenris..." The mage trembled. The elf's eyes opened, gazing at Anders, so beautifully erotic.
The mage shifted his body's angle, keeping his slow pace. As he stroked leisurely over the elf's sweet spot, Fenris groaned with heady desire. Anders' whisper began, again. "You're almost ready, my beautiful love... so close... I want to feel you find your pleasure..." Fenris' body felt as though it would shudder apart. He felt the climb to his peak begin at an unbearable crawl. His body clenched around the mage, fingernails biting into Anders' skin as he held himself in check.
Anders panted, his hot breath sending shivers down Fenris' spine. The slow rocking continued. Moans escaped them both. Each clung to the trembling body against theirs. Ecstasy curled tightly in their loins, drawing whimpers of need. The elf's back arched, body taut with impending culmination. Anders' trembling hand reached between their bodies and stroked the elf's arousal. "Come for me, love..." Fenris' vision went white as his body slammed into climax. His breath sobbed as he felt Anders convulse, felt the heat spending within him, heard his name called in breathy moans.
His arms encircled the mage. Their breathing slowed. Whispers, sighs and soft brushes of skin were all that could be heard in the flickering golden light.
The house was still. The halls were empty. All was quiet.
The three men had drifted aimlessly through the days following their guests' departure. The Chargers were escorting Eve and Cullen to Ferelden. They would travel south, through Nevarra, and take ship across the Waking Sea.
Their departure had been emotional, for everyone. Anders, always the first to succumb to feelings, wept continually the morning before they left. He wasn't alone by the time the carriage was packed, and the passengers ready to board. Dorian and Bull stayed long in the privacy of his suite, and emerged pensive. Fenris and Anders embraced Eve and Cullen, weeping quietly. Then, the couple was inside the carriage, the Chargers atop its roof.
Bull pulled Dorian into a final, long, mournful kiss. When he mounted the carriage, it was as though he'd left his strength behind. As the carriage pulled away, the Chargers began a beautiful farewell refrain. The three men stood, with hearts aching, and watched until the carriage and song had both disappeared.
The rest of that day was silent. Dorian took to his suite, and didn't emerge. Fenris and Anders listlessly moved through the house and garden. The staff had been busy. The furniture that had resided in the garden had been returned to the house, and the makeshift sparring ring was dismantled. As they walked by the pond, Anders automatically stooped to pick up a pebble to skip. He dropped it again as tears threatened. He pulled Fenris into a hug.
"I miss them so much," he said with a rough voice. Fenris nodded.
"I do, too." He did. He'd never felt such a convivial sense of connection with so many people. The conversation, the laughter, the games... never in his life had he enjoyed himself so much.
And, so much more, the confidence Anders had gained, and the joy he'd felt, filled the elf with gratitude for the people who had been part of it. He held his mage as Anders fought back the emotions breaking through. All he wanted in life was for Anders to be happy.
As the days passed, they each quietly established, or reacquainted with, their goals. Dorian increased his efforts in finding support for reform. He was in the city on a regular basis. He met people for meals, attended meetings at the local Circle, corresponded endlessly with various people inside and outside of Tevinter.
Anders was determined to become more adept in public settings. Spending the weeks in the company of others, listening to their stories, their plans... Anders realized how small their world was. He wanted more. They'd made steps in that direction, going into the city with Dorian. He and Fenris now accompanied Dorian on all of his trips. They spent time simply moving among the citizens. Walking a crowded street, growing accustomed to the brush of shoulders against theirs. Anders realized that accidental bumps and brushes by people weren't upsetting in the way a deliberate grab or touch was. He didn't like it, but he slowly taught himself not to skitter away from accidental contact. The few times that another noble moved as though to initiate conversation, Fenris did what he had promised, months ago. Simply stepping in front of Anders, his presence was like a sign. People left them alone.
They ate lunch at crowded restaurants. Anders couldn't bring himself to order his food. Fenris spoke to the staff. It wasn't really unusual. Although some slaves accompanying their owners knelt on the floor, others sat at the table. Fenris ordering for them both was a sign that Anders was not interested in speaking, at least to service personnel. Anders didn't like looking as though he was arrogant, but it was pretty much the only reason a noble wouldn't speak for himself.
Eating from their own plates-without feeding one another-was a difficult habit to break. At home, they still indulged. For so long, they'd divided their food between them, and ensured the other ate enough. But, they realized most people found their dining habit odd. So, in public, they isolated their plates, and ate only their own serving. It felt lonely. They watched each other as they ate, still ensuring the other ate enough to satisfy them.
There was only one goal with which Anders and Fenris were not in accord. Anders wanted to break the need to bury his mouth in Fenris' neck for comfort. Tasting, scenting and touching each other in this way provided instant relief of anxiety, fear or pain. The contact left both the giver and receiver with a strong sense of peace and intimacy. Fenris didn't want it to stop. Anders saw it as a symptom of his broken psyche. He desperately wanted to be whole. However much he missed it, Fenris couldn't bring himself to argue with the mage.
Fenris wanted most of all to help Anders with whatever made him happy. Whether it was learning to navigate crowds, or eating from their own plate, or even no longer comforting the mage in the way they'd learned, he supported him. Beyond that, he continued to improve his reading and writing. He realized that he would never be as eloquent a writer as Anders or Dorian. He wasn't an eloquent speaker. As Cullen had pointed out, writing was just another form of speaking. Fenris accepted himself for what he was, and focused instead on the mechanics.
He learned more about Dorian's quest for reform throughout Tevinter. Fenris had a sense for Tevinter attitude and motivation that gave him an understanding in areas in which Dorian was weaker. The two discussed potential reform for hours.
Anders found it interesting, but preferred to lose himself in his new research project. When Fenris asked about it, he said only that he hoped to help the Grey Wardens. He discussed possible avenues with Dorian, who helped him send letters to potential collaborators. Words, both spoken and written, continued to come with difficulty to the mage.
A letter arrived one day for Fenris and Anders. Unlike the first letter they had received, this one was received with joy. It was from Varric.
Grinning, Fenris handed it to Anders, and listened as the mage read it aloud.
"Dear Blondie and Broody,
"Damn glad to get your letter. Especially after that crazy screw-up of an Exalted Council. The best thing that came out of that was learning you were alive and safe. The worst thing, that business with Eve losing her arm. She's a fine person, who really didn't deserve that.
"Hearing how you believed we had betrayed you... that was hard, I'll admit. But, it makes sense. In your shoes, any of us would have thought the same. I'm glad you know the truth. I was then, I am now, and I always will be, your friend. As such, since you didn't out-and-out say 'no', you are still Blondie and Broody, to me.
"You mentioned your sister. I'm sorry, Broody. If there's one thing I know, it's the pain of family betrayal. Like Bartrand, Varania got her comeuppance. I don't know if you know this, but Danarius didn't take her back to Tevinter. As she stood to follow them all out of the tavern, one of his men pushed her back into her chair. 'The Master can't trust a woman who'd betray her own brother,' he said. He tossed a small coin purse at her, 'For your trouble,' he said, and walked out the door.
"It was right after that we realized what Hawke had done, so I don't know what she did, next.
Some time later, we saw her in the Gallows' courtyard, hawking wares. Big Tranquil brand on her forehead. I don't know how she ended up there, or why she was made Tranquil. I never saw her, again, after the mage rebellion."
Anders stopped reading, and looked at the elf. "Maker, Fenris... she was made Tranquil."
Fenris nodded. He was satisfied to know what happened. Anders would say death was preferable. The elf didn't know. Maybe, Tranquil, she found a little of the horror they'd experienced as a result of her action. "Keep reading."
"You don't say much about what happened to you during your time in Tevinter, but what you say is enough. Not every story needs to be written, not even by me. I can't say I'm unhappy that Justice is gone. But, I'm not at all happy that Blondie went through whatever he did when the spirit was destroyed. I'm not at all happy either of you went through any of what you did.
"It's hard for me to imagine Blondie at a loss for words. He talked almost as much as I do. Maybe he'll find those words, again. If he doesn't, I'm glad he's got you, Broody, to say what he can't. Besides, it gives me more time to hear myself talk.
"On that topic, don't think I didn't catch the rhapsody in your letter, Broody. 'My beloved Anders' isn't exactly a phrase I'd have ever expected out of you. Catch me off guard? Oh, hell, yeah. I wasted a mouthful of ale, spitting it out when I read that. Am I surprised? You know, not really. The world did almost end, after all. And, Sparkler tells me that cows flew over Minrathous. So, I suppose anything's possible. Makes me wish I was writing this story, because that's got to be the romance to end all romances. Really, all kidding aside, I'm glad. I'm damn glad you have each other to help with your healing, and find good in the world. You deserve good things.
Anders stopped reading to laugh. "You do realize we're going to be in a best-selling, bodice- ripping novel, don't you? He'll try not to write it, but he can't help himself."
Fenris snorted. "We'll send him details about Bull and Dorian's reunion to distract him. A love story between a qunari Ben hassrath and a Tevinter mage will garner higher sales." Laughing, Anders continued reading.
"And, you met Bull and the Chargers, huh? Oh, how I wish I could have been there! This Viscount schtick is really a time-cruncher. It's not all bad. Lot of meetings, lot of writing-and not the good kind. The crown makes my head itch. Luckily, if I'm not wearing it, most common folk don't recognize me. I spend as much time at the Hanged Man as I can. It was gutted during the rebellion. I invested in it, and had it rebuilt. What the hell, I was rebuilding half the city, anyway. It's still a working-man/drinking man's pub. I wouldn't go to any other kind. No holes in the roof, and the bloodstains are all new. I still keep a room, there, for when games run late.
"Speaking of rebuilding and rooming... I bought Broody's old squatter's-roost. Damn cheap, too. I was acquiring the home next door for Eve, and had it thrown in for a song. Seriously. I threatened to sing if the assessor didn't give it to me as a public service. It was a rotting hulk, and still had desiccated corpses in it. Seriously, Broody? Anyway, it's been refurbished, and the ownership's in your name, filed legal, and everything. Anytime you want to drop by Kirkwall for a visit, it's waiting for you. I've included the key with this letter.
"Which leads me to an invitation. Any time, any reason, come see your old pal, Varric. Gander at some changes that've happened since you were last here. Aveline and Donnic send their love, and would like to see you, too. They have a baby, by the way. Yeah, how's that for a head-spinner? A ginger-haired hellion of a girl that's got Donnic wrapped around her little finger. They hired Orana out from under me as their nanny. I see Isabela and Merrill on the odd occasion, when they make port. The Chargers say they'll drop by if they're in the area. The Hanged Man needs that crew to really finish the redecorating.
"So, show up. Stay in your house. Lose at cards. Make fun of my crown. Pay me that five sovereigns you still owe me, Elf. Just, get here.
"Varric."
Anders looked up from the letter, a smile on his face. "You still owe him five sovereigns?"
"I didn't exactly have a chance to settle accounts before leaving. I'm still getting over that Aveline had a child."
"I want to go."
Fenris tried to keep his excitement in check. "You do?"
"Yes. I want to see Varric, and whoever's there. I want to walk that city without fear of being picked-up by Templars. I want to see the Hanged Man, and put new memories over the last one."
Fenris smiled hugely. "Then, we shall go."
Dorian had received mail, as well. When they found him in his suite, to show him Varric's letter, he looked grim.
He studied them a moment as they sat on his settee. Finally, he sighed.
"My father is dead. Assassinated, I believe. I just received notice. A perversely cheerful letter congratulating me on assuming his seat in the magisterium."
Anders jumped from his seat, embracing Dorian. "What can we do?" Dorian patted Anders' shoulder, then gently set Anders away from him. "There's really nothing that can be done. You know my father and I had a complicated relationship. We've only met a few times since I've been home. He didn't say anything about keeping me as his heir. Apparently, he had."
Fenris watched Anders as he scrutinized Dorian's face. His mage looked confused.
Dorian stood and paced. "I'll need to go to Minrathous. In fact, I'll be making the Pavus estate there my permanent residence. You can stay here, if you Minrathous estate is large enough, if you feel you need to come. Do as you wish."
Anders now looked utterly lost. He lowered his head, and sat next to Fenris, taking his hand.
"I'm tripling your Inheritor allowance, Anders. You'll also receive a large bulk sum, once my father's will is settled. You'll be more than comfortable. You'll be rich. You'll have enough to travel, and set up your own household. To meet any need you have, at any time."
Fenris felt Anders' handgrip tighten. "When are you leaving?" Fenris asked.
Dorian turned his back, ruffling through papers on his desk. He cleared his throat. "It'll take a little time to arrange matters. A month or more. If you'll excuse me, I've correspondence to manage."
Fenris watched Anders as they left Dorian's suite. His face twitched madly. In the privacy of their suite, the mage perched on the edge of the settee. His shaking hands pressed together, his face continuing to twitch.
"Anders... what's happening inside you?"
The mage shook his head, biting his lips. Fenris sat and cupped his face, trying to make eye contact. "Anders... talk to me."
Looking at his hands, the mage said, "He's leaving us."
"He said we can go with him. Do you want to go to Minrathous?"
Anders shook his head. "That's not what he said. He said the was room for us, if we needed to come. Then, he said he was increasing my allowance, so we could travel and set-up housekeeping." He took a shuddering breath. "He doesn't want us to come with him."
"I'm sure that's not what he meant, Anders.
"Fenris, when my adoption was finalized, he asked us to stay with him. Now... you were there! He wouldn't even let me touch him. He turned his back and dismissed us."
Fenris agreed, it had been an unusual discussion. "Dorian's grieving. He's upset. You know he doesn't like to show his feelings."
Anders shook his head. "It's not just that. He would probably take you with him, if not for me. You could help him. You could be his body guard, and protect him. Me? I'm like the feeble- minded relative the family dotes upon; but, when company comes, is relegated to the upstairs bedroom. Of course he doesn't want me with him in Minrathous."
Fenris thought about what Anders said, for the rest of the day. He watched Anders as he tried to comfort himself. The mage held Tigris for as long as the active kitten would allow. He curled on the couch with his mother's pillow. He napped, escaping his pain in fitful sleep. He refused to turn to Fenris. Anders was sure his behaviors were what was keeping Dorian from wanting them near his capital home, and his new contemporaries.
Dorian was an elitist, that much was true. But, he was sincere, and kind. He wouldn't have had Anders adopted into his family, if he was embarrassed by him. The elf knew they both had quirks, Anders more than he. But, Dorian had always taken them in stride.
When suppertime came, Fenris convinced Anders to go to Dorian's suite, as usual. He was sure it would all play-out as it should.
"Have you thought about what you'd like to do, as far as living situations?" Dorian asked.
Anders' head stayed bent over his plate. Fenris glanced at him, then spoke. "What if we wanted to come to Minrathous?"
Dorian glanced up in surprise. "Oh. Well. I'd need to go ahead of you. I'll be stopping in Qarinus on the way there, pay respects to my mother. It would be best if you weren't present for that."
"Why not?"
Dorian snorted derisively. "I'm certainly not going to introduce you to my mother."
Anders bolted up from his chair and tried to leave the room. He turned at the door and looked at Fenris with anguish. "Anders isn't feeling well," Fenris said. Without looking at Dorian, he strode out the door.
Anders was fighting tears, and losing. He paced in their suite, fists pressed to his temples.
Fenris was in shock. His chest felt filled with burning ice. He heard Anders break into a sob and try to bite it back.
"It's not Dorian's fault," Anders said through a tight throat. "He's done so much for us. It's my fault. I'm just... not right." He lost his fight, and broke down weeping. "I'm so sorry, Fenris."
Fenris felt his heart break. Dorian had inspired a level of trust and friendship in Fenris that, outside of Anders, the elf had never known. He felt sick that he could have so badly misinterpreted the situation. Dorian was leaving them. Insulting them, and then leaving them. Fenris felt lost. Confused. Abandoned.
The elf pulled the weeping mage into his arms. "You're perfect, my Anders. Perfect." Anders clung to him, body quaking with tears. Fenris cupped Anders' head in his hand, and tried to bring the mage's mouth to his neck. Anders resisted, shaking his head.
Fenris finally sobbed. "Please, Anders... I need it..." That was all it took. He felt the suction, almost desperate, latch against his skin. The sensation was intense, consuming, like feeding an addiction. Anders was with him. Fenris could comfort him, give this much to him. He yanked at the neckline of Anders' robes, trying to reach his skin. The material tore, and then Fenris' mouth was on the mage's shoulder. Through his own pain, and the salt of his tears, Fenris found comfort in Anders' taste and scent. The sharp sting of confusion and pain lessened. They were together. They were one.
Morning found the pair still hurting. Rumpled from sleeping in their clothes, they sat on their settee, lost and confused. Anders had tried to heal the large, purple bruise on the elf's neck. The mage had been desperate in seeking comfort; he hadn't let go of Fenris' neck until he'd fallen asleep, late in the night. Fenris didn't want it healed. Somehow, it gave him him comfort to feel it there. He could still provide what his mage needed.
He couldn't take away the pain, entirely, though. Anders hurt. The elf was reeling. "Do you think Dorian has been putting on an act, all this time? That he never felt true friendship for us?"
Anders shook his head. He held Tigris, stroking her fur, but his face and voice seemed numb. "No. I think he's an honorable man. It's not his fault that we read more into his care than was there."
"What do you mean 'read more into his care'?"
"It happens in healing. Healers have intimate relationships with their patients. Sometimes, it gets confused for something more." He drew a shuddering breath. "Dorian went above and beyond what anyone could have, to help us. But, I guess that's all it was. Remember what we were like when we came here. His kindness was beyond anything we had known."
"I imagined a whole friendship? Both of us? It can't have all been a misunderstanding... can it?"
"I don't know, Fenris. I just don't know. The words he said hurt so much."
A knock sounded on their door, and then it opened. Dorian stepped inside. "I was wondering..." He stopped, taking a hard look at them. His eyes lingered on the bruise gracing Fenris' neck and Anders' red-rimmed eyes. "Something's wrong... was it the letter from Varric?"
Anders stiffened. Fenris reached for his hand. "No, it wasn't Varric. We've decided not to go to Minrathous."
Dorian's face fell. "I see. And... that's what all this-" he gestured at them "-is about?"
"Not exactly."
Anders spoke. "We understand why you don't want us with you." Dorian's brows drew together, quizzically. "I know I'm... not what you want to introduce to your family, or to the kind of people you'll work with. I understand... but, it still hurts. What you said hurts."
Fenris was impressed with Anders' reply. He didn't think he could have done it so well, or so thoughtfully.
Dorian didn't seem to think it was well done, nor thoughtful. "Just what the hell are you talking about?"
"Don't make him go through it, again," Fenris said. "You made it clear you don't want us to go with you. You turned your back on us and dismissed us from your rooms. And, what you said about introducing us to your mother..." He glanced at Anders, who seemed to be entirely focused on petting the kitten.
Dorian's eyes were unfocused, moving as though watching the replay of all that Fenris had detailed. When he focused on them, again, he looked angry. "Vishante kaffas! And, I mean that, literally. How little loyalty and honor do you think I possess?" He stood, abruptly. "The carriage is waiting for us out front. Get in it. Now."
Exchanging a baffled look, the pair stood and followed Dorian to the carriage. Once underway, he spoke, again.
"I don't know what I possibly did to deserve your distrust, but let's at least set this straight." He looked hard at both Fenris and Anders. "You are exactly the kind of people to whom I do want to introduce my family and the Magistrate. As it happens, they are not the kind of people I want to introduce to you. My mother is an back-biting harpy. As poor of a relationship as my father and I had, it was loving in comparison to what I share with Aquinea. The thought of exposing you, or anyone I care about, to her gentle reception is abhorrent.
"As far as coming to Minrathous...you know I detest making an emotional display. I turned my back so you wouldn't see how badly I want you with me. You're my family, of course I want you there. I tried to get you out of the room before I broke down and begged you to come. You should make the life of your choosing, not mine. You have choices, now, and opportunities. I feared asking you to come would sway you from something you might want more."
Anders had his hand over his eyes, fighting tears, again. "I'm an idiot."
"Too right," Dorian replied. "I thought you trusted me. I had no idea you would be so quick to assume the worst of me. Is it because I'm a dreaded magister, now? Why didn't you ask? Why did you spend a night in obvious torment, and not say a thing? And, have you any idea how deeply it hurts to find you think so poorly of me?"
Anders wiped his eyes. "I'm so sorry, Dorian. We should have asked what you meant. You're a good man. A great man." He took a shuddering breath. "I'm just so ready to be hurt. Like when someone touches me. Maybe, being abandoned in a cell with the one I love, to slowly die, made me fear being left behind. I don't know." He raised sincere eyes to Dorian's tense face. "Please, forgive me."
Dorian visibly relaxed. He gave a small smile. "Of course. But, don't bloody well do it, again. It. Hurt."
Both men replied, "Yes, Dorian."
Dorian sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Festis bei umo canavarum."
Anders leaned against Fenris, and sighed. "I'm sorry I got things so messed up, and upset you, and... I'm just sorry."
Fenris kissed his head. "It made sense to me, too, at the time." He caught Dorian's look. "But, it never will, again."
Anders' fingers stroked over the deep purple bruise on the elf's neck. "Will you let me heal this, now?"
Fenris shook his head. "No. Not unless you agree to something. You will come to me for comfort, when you need it. I know you don't want to be 'wrong', anymore. The thing is, there's nothing wrong with us, Anders. We've just been reconstructed. Those little quirky things we do aren't testimony to how damaged we are. They show how strong we became, together. I want to comfort you, this way."
Anders blinked at him adoringly. "Agreed." He stroked the bruise with blue-lit fingertips, and the mark disappeared.
"I swear, I have a cavity forming, as we speak," Dorian said.
Fenris smirked. "Let's talk about Bull."
"Yes, let's," Dorian said. "There's no sugary sweetness, there."
Both Anders and Fenris laughed. "You two are the definition of sugary sweet," Anders said.
When the carriage turned down a familiar road, Anders got antsy. But, Danarius' old estate never came into view. Instead, a huge construction site formed in the distance. As they pulled up in front of it, they didn't recognize anything about the property. A series of buildings were half-completed. Spread over a sizable area, it was difficult to tell what the final goal of the construction was.
Following Dorian, they left the carriage, and walked through the site.
"Belus Wallus and I have joined forces in this project. I was going to wait to show you when it was completed, but I think recent events call for a preview."
Large numbers of workers were present. Building, planning, running errands, even minding children far from the worksite.
"What is this?" Fenris asked.
Dorian smiled. "So happy you asked. This is going to be a cooperative venture. Newly freed slaves, destitute freemen, the old and disabled; they will come here to find their way to a new life. They'll have access to training in a number of skills, including reading and writing. Those who wish to leave the Imperium will receive assistance to travel, or to find family left behind. They will live here, in housing, with family, if they have it. The fields will be farmed and ranched cooperatively for food and to sell produce. It's the beginning of what will hopefully become a series of commonly found institutions. We'll make adjustments as we go."
Anders was astounded. "This is incredible, Dorian."
Fenris nodded. "And, a perfect use for the property."
Dorian smiled, hugely. "Yes, the irony is terribly pleasing. Through here... there's something I want you to see."
In the center of the site was a large courtyard. In process, of course, but the work so far showed it to be a place of relaxation, and perhaps play, for families. In the center of the courtyard, several sculptors worked on a statue. Perhaps 15-20 feet tall, made of white marble, it was incomplete. Yet, the shape to come was easily discernible.
A wolf lay in repose, head up, ears raised. In the curve of its ribs, sitting proudly, was a large cat.
"Makers' breath... it's us," Anders breathed.
Fenris' jaw dropped. "This... it's beautiful. And, it's... us."
Dorian looked at the sculpture. "Few people will ever know what this represents. That isn't its intention. I wanted to leave your mark. You were here. You suffered. You grew strong. You survived. This place is my legacy, to you. This statue will be all of you that you leave here. You've moved on."
He turned to them. "Both of you, listen to me, and listen to me well: you are my family. I love you. I may have helped you find your way, but in so doing, you became essential to me. You will always be welcome, wherever I call home. You're my brothers. You always will be."
tbc...
Author's Note:
This chapter was tough to write, for several reasons.
Abandonment is hard. That's all I have to say about that.