VII: Coming Home

"…pass through Lothering in order to get on the Imperial Highway and to Redcliffe."

For the entire duration of the discussion, Logan hadn't been listening. It wasn't until Alistair mentioned the word 'Lothering' that he snapped out of his wandering thoughts and looked up at Alistair with a surprised look on his face. Garrett and Bethany were both equally caught off guard. Alistair stopped speaking and looked up at them with a sort of apprehension in his eyes, as though he was wondering if he said something wrong or embarrassing.

"Did… I do something wrong again?" Alistair asked nervously, "Or was it my breath?" He chuckled and scratched his head with a sheepish look. "Look, if this was about the cheese I had for dinner—"

"We're going to Lothering today?" Logan asked, as though he had heard something he couldn't believe.

"Y-yes," Alistair blinked at Logan with a confused expression on his face, "What—what's wrong with Lothering? You don't know anyone there who's a darkspawn sympathizer, do you? You know, there are some crazy cultists out there who think the darkspawn are meant to be worshiped…"

Garrett looked at Alistair with an irksome glare. "You ramble too much, sometimes—you're lucky some people here find that endearing," he commented coolly, wincing slightly—but not enough for Alistair to notice—as Bethany stamped her foot on his, coloring up slightly—before continuing, "Lothering is where we lived before the templars took Bethany and me away from our mother and brother."

"Oh." Alistair's gaze dropped to the map before them and looked back up at the three mages who were already exchanging glances with each other. "I guess we have time for a family reunion," he added, looking upon them with what seemed to Logan as an envious expression.

Logan inhaled the crisp, cool air in the morning and walked off as the group separated to pack up and take down their individual tents, imagining what it would be like to see his aunt again. The last time he had seen Leandra Amell was almost eighteen years ago, when his mother had taken him to Ferelden to visit. He had always liked Leandra, and considered her as his second mother. In fact, even if he hadn't acknowledged it himself, Revka would have made sure he did anyway.

His heart stung when he recalled the day he was snatched away from his mother and aunt. They had stayed in Ferelden for several weeks and, on the eve of their departure, templars had burst into the house and seized him roughly from his mother's arms and took him to the Circle of Ferelden. Garrett had been sleeping in his own room and Malcolm Hawke had been away in Kirkwall, which was why Logan had been the first to be thrust into the Circle unwillingly. Even as he closed his eyes every night, Logan could still remember his mother's screams—she had been shouting his name and running after the templars with tears streaming down her face—and buried that painful memory in the deepest corner of his mind as Garrett approached him from behind.

"Can you believe it?" asked Garrett, clearly elated at the prospect of returning to Lothering, "We're actually going back to see mother and Carver."

Logan forced a laugh. "I haven't seen Carver before," he reminded Garrett, "Or Bethany, until the templars dragged both of you in. I have a feeling it'll be an interesting meeting."

"I'm already planning an elaborate prank to shock mother," Garrett announced cheekily, "Maybe we'll pretend we're Tranquil."

"I'm not sure Bethany would oblige to that, Garrett," Logan commented urbanely, "I think she would actually choose to decapitate you before you can even pull that one on your own mother and brother. Think of their hearts…"

"Correction," Garrett grimaced, "My mother's heart. Carver didn't exactly take a liking to me when we were younger—in fact, I think he'd actually start dancing around and rejoicing the fact that his older, more talented brother might actually be an empty shell. And stop raining on my parade like my little sister!" He swung his staff at Logan and knocked him on the head, his face scornful.

Logan stifled his laughter as he noticed Bethany looking at them strangely from afar, having picked up Garrett's outburst. "Careful, she'll want to question you too," Garrett said warningly, glancing in the direction that Logan was looking and back to his cousin, "Don't you go ruining this for me—I've waited years for this."

"Oi, you two!" bellowed Alistair from afar, "I am not packing your things for you!"

Garrett groaned. "Alright, mother," he yelled back indignantly, turning around and walking back with Logan. Alistair stood akimbo, next to Bethany and Morrigan, and watched them with a sort of tiredness in his eyes. Logan grinned as he noticed the man's weariness—in his honest opinion, Alistair deserved it for refusing to go to sleep even after they spoke last night, saying something about "staying vigilant" and being a "good Warden". Logan swore Alistair had been intoxicated as he recalled the amount of cheese he ate for dinner—or maybe it was just the poor man getting himself upset over Duncan again by thinking too much.

Alistair had been snappish ever since dawn, but Logan could understand why. He still hadn't really gotten over Duncan's death, but he made an effort to stay strong for everyone—especially Alistair. Logan knew Alistair was closer to Duncan than he was, but it still wasn't an excuse to always mope about in camp. Things were hard enough for them as it is and Logan didn't want them to feel even more burdened than they already were.

He gathered up his pack and slung it over his shoulder after making sure no one had left anything behind and walked northwards, unable to contain his eagerness—as were Garrett and Bethany.

With the exception of Morrigan, the traveling group was chattering incessantly and excitedly about returning to Lothering. The witch seemed to be disinterested in any kind of conversation with the Wardens, something Logan decided to amend later.

Alistair, on the other hand, remained silent as he trailed behind them, his thoughts still with Duncan. Bethany seemed to notice this and discreetly fell back from the main group, with Morrigan a sort of barrier between the now two distinct pairs.

"Are you alright?" Bethany asked, startling Alistair out of his wild thoughts.

He smiled appreciatively at her. "I'll live."

"Do you want to talk about it?" offered Bethany, her brown eyes filled with concern, "You've been awfully quiet."

"I'm not sure if talking about it would make the pain go away," Alistair shrugged as he blinked several times, as though he were chasing his tears away, "Every time I think about him I just feel… so angry."

"At him?"

The question seemed so hard to answer. The answer always changed whenever Alistair thought about it. One moment he would be angry at Duncan for sending all of them to the Tower of Ishal, and the next he would be angry at himself for not insisting on going with the main army. Other times, he would find himself seething with rage when he thought about Loghain's betrayal that led to the army's death. They could have lived! Alistair reflected angrily. Things would've been different…

"I don't know," Alistair finally admitted, shaking his head in frustration, "It's all so hard to take in. Have you… have you lost someone close to you before?"

Bethany laughed, a wistful look in her eyes. "You forget that my brother and I were taken away from our mother," she told him, "And before that, our father was killed by the templars."

"Oh," Alistair's eyes widened with shock, but soon transited to sheer embarrassment as he turned crimson, "I'm so stupid… I'm sorry for asking. I was told before, wasn't I?" He looked away as he berated himself for his own foolishness, hardly realizing that he had never been affected by that aspect of himself until now. Bethany placed her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly, her smile calming his nerves and causing him to forget the awkwardness from just a moment ago as he looked at her.

"It's alright," Bethany said, shrugging it off, "We forget, sometimes."

"Yes, but I'm particularly adept at that," Alistair scratched his head and laughed, "According to Morrigan, I am stupidity personified."

"It's not that bad," Bethany giggled, "You're not what others say you are."

"And what am I, exactly?" Alistair asked sheepishly, grinning from ear to ear, "I've always wondered that, even after I became a Grey Warden. I'm just… Alistair, aren't I? Just a man trying to do his best for everyone…"

"Who is completely genuine," Bethany finished for him, reddening slightly when she realized the way he had been looking at her. Alistair had a lopsided grin on his face as he gazed at her, almost looking mesmerized as he reluctantly looked frontward so that he knew where they were walking. He had been so absorbed in the conversation that it would actually be mildly shocking if they had gotten lost and separated from the main group.

"Thank you," Alistair said, "Although I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"You're rather confident," Bethany commented teasingly.

"Yes, that's what Logan said too," Alistair conceded smugly. He tugged at the sling of his pack nervously as he felt Bethany's eyes on him, wishing she would look somewhere else so his nerves would settle down. There were so many things about her he'd like to know, but his grief had prevented him from oozing out even an ounce of friendliness—which was why he greatly cherished the conversation—however minute—that they were having at the moment.

Before they could even say anything more to each other, Garrett's voice resonated loudly from the front. "Do you see that, Logan? Do you? Bethany—Bethany Hawke, where are you?" he bellowed, his voice cracking with sheer excitement and ecstasy, "We're home!"

Behind Logan and Garrett, Morrigan groaned. "Is it not obvious enough that we are a traveling band of misfits?" she complained unhappily, "'Tis not that hard to keep one's mouth shut."

"Well, I guess you'll have to get used to it," Logan smirked at her, "Silence is a luxury when you're with Garrett." He indicated his cousin who was already a distance ahead, no longer dragging his feet and attempting to pass the time with small talk.

When Morrigan glared at him, thoroughly annoyed, Logan threw up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright," he conceded with a small grin, "I'll try not to make your life more miserable than it already is."

"'Tis most wise of you," Morrigan said unappreciatively, grimacing as they approached Lothering at last.

Garrett and Bethany led the group to the house that they remembered—and hoped—that Leandra and Carver would be staying in. Logan noticed that the two Hawkes began to fidget nervously as they approached the run down hut, and soon began to feel rather unnerved himself—out of excitement rather than fear. They watched as Garrett approached the door and rapped almost too enthusiastically on it.

Minutes later the door swung open. "Malcolm?" the woman gasped, her eyes widening in alarm. Garrett opened his mouth to speak, but nothing seemed to come out as he just stood there, looking upon his mother with a bright smile as Bethany approached her older brother.

"Not Malcolm," Garrett told her, "But that is my middle name."

"Mother," Bethany whispered, her eyes brimming with tears, threatening to let loose at any moment. "It's us. We've… we've come home."

Leandra Amell's face—despite being weary and worn just moments before—lit up as a wave of emotions overwhelmed her, ranging from confusion to understanding and eventually turning into unbridled ecstasy as she cried out in joy and embraced her two children, finally come home at last—

"Mother, who's there?" came a voice from the inside of the hut, as heavy footsteps grew louder and much more frantic, "Mother, are you al—" Logan was surprised at how much resemblance the young man had to Garrett, and instantly realized that he was looking at Carver Hawke, the twin brother of Bethany.

Bethany burst into a wide smile as she broke away from her embrace with Leandra and Garrett and engulfed Carver in a hug, as Garrett gave his younger brother a once over. "You haven't been eating, have you?" the older Hawke commented, lifting an eyebrow as Carver wrapped his arms around Bethany, his eyes still fixated on his older brother.

Carver easily ignored that question and brushed it off with another, "Do you realize how much you look like father?"

"You make it sound like a bad thing," Garrett grinned, ruffling his younger brother's hair. "It's been a long time, Carver. Don't I get a hug, too?"

Carver rolled his eyes. "Don't you dare," he said, throwing a light punch at Garrett's arm. "Magey."

Behind them, Alistair snorted and Logan hid his smile with his hand. Leandra's eyes turned to Logan as she stepped forward to take a closer look at Logan and gasped. "You… you're Revka's son, aren't you?" she asked almost in disbelief, as her hand reached up to neaten Logan's stubbornly disheveled hair, "Logan?"

"Aunt Leandra," Logan greeted softly, feeling his heart warm at her touch. She wasn't his mother, but she was good enough for him. It started to feel like home to him. "I can't believe you still remember me."

"Of course I would!" Leandra said, her eyes welling up with tears as she looked from Logan to Garrett and Bethany. "All of you are home—we are a family again."

Logan's smile disappeared the moment Alistair nudged him gently in the ribs. He glanced sideways and noticed Alistair's regretful expression for ruining the moment. That's right, Logan suddenly remembered with reluctance, they had a Blight to finish and an archdemon to kill.

"Are we done?" Morrigan suddenly said, her arms folded as she looked upon them with what seemed to be disdain and—could it be?—jealousy. Leandra looked from Alistair to Morrigan and then back to Garrett, asking, "Who are these people?"

"Our, uh, friends," Garrett replied, "Alistair's a Grey Warden and Morrigan is a witch. We're… we were just passing by to see you and Carver." Logan could already sense the tension rise as Garrett hung his head, having pained him to tell his mother that they were not staying. His felt as though his stomach had abruptly dropped when he saw confusion and fear in her eyes as she looked from Garrett, to Bethany and to him.

"What do you mean you're just passing by? You can't go anywhere—not while the darkspawn are out there—"

"That's exactly why we have to keep moving," Alistair cut in, but Garrett stopped him.

"Mother, the reason why we can't stay is because…" Garrett's voice trailed off as he looked to Bethany and Logan for help, but all they could do was to give him—and each other—their silent support. The eldest Hawke son faced his mother again, hesitating. Logan knew that he didn't know how to tell Leandra that they were going against the Blight itself, but they had no choice. Not anymore—not since Duncan conscripted them. His heart sank a little as he found himself thinking about Duncan again, and pushed the painful thoughts away as he concentrated on where he was.

"What's wrong, dear?" Leandra asked worriedly, caressing her son's cheek, "What's happening?"

"We're Grey Wardens," Garrett said finally, closing his eyes, refusing to see his mother's reaction. "I'm sorry, mother. We—we had no choice. We were conscripted—that's why we were able to get out of the Circle."

Logan could not bear to look at Leandra either, as her gasp pierced the heavy silence. "Grey Wardens?"

"We would have died if it weren't for our conscription," Bethany added, "The templars were going to kill us."

"I can't believe this," Leandra sighed in frustration, "My children—Grey Wardens! You might as well look for death itself!" Her grip on Garrett's shoulders tightened as she edged closer to him, looking upon him with such desperation as though she was silently waiting for him to burst into laughter and tell her that it was merely a joke, and that they would be a family again.

"It was the only way we were ever going to see you and Carver again," Garrett refuted with a shaky voice, "But we will do what we must, as Grey Wardens."

"Aren't there other Grey Wardens that are alive?" Leandra insisted, looking to Alistair angrily, "You can't just take away my children!"

Alistair shook his head grimly. "The remaining Fereldan Wardens perished in the battle at Ostagar alongside King Cailan. We are…" Alistair caught his breath in mid-sentence, staring at nothing in particular—not even Leandra—as though he just had an epiphany. "We are the only ones that can stop the Blight now."

"'Tis a matter far more important than this family reunion," Morrigan chided Leandra with a look of unadulterated disapproval, "Many other families in Ferelden will also begin to lose their sons and daughters to the Blight… the Grey Wardens are here to make sure that does not happen. We must go."

"No," Leandra said firmly, as Morrigan lifted an eyebrow, surprised that the woman would still be so stubborn even in the midst of a Blight.

"Mother…" Garrett looked sadly at his mother. "We can't stay."

"You can for just one night," Leandra insisted fiercely, "Just one more day with my son and daughter." Again, Logan noticed the brief flash of jealousy on Morrigan's face. She caught his eye and instantly looked away, her face becoming unreadable once more. Alistair looked rather sympathetic at this point as Leandra went on insisting that everyone stayed the night—if only for one more peaceful night before they took on the Blight on their own—and relented to her plea.

"I hope you have room, mother," Bethany said, with a faint smile.

Leandra mustered all the strength she had left and smiled at her daughter, as she began to usher everyone into the house.

Dinner was a cosy affair, even though Morrigan had chosen to make herself scarce. Logan knew that she wouldn't run away, but made a mental note to look for her later. Right now, he couldn't tear away from the dinner table. Leandra had cooked the best dishes she could manage, much to everyone's delight. Alistair had been the first to ask for seconds, closely followed by Carver and then Garrett.

"I take it back," Garrett said, smirking at his younger brother, "You eat a lot—and way faster than I do. That's an accomplishment!"

Carver shook his head as though Garrett had said the stupidest thing in the world. "You know I'm never actually going to be better than you already are, brother," he said bitterly, before wolfing down his second helping.

"You think being a Grey Warden is a good thing?" Alistair looked up, visibly amused.

The younger Hawke son shrugged. "Isn't it?" he countered, scrutinizing Alistair, "The one who kills the archdemon is the one that gets all the glory!"

There was a ghost of a smile on Alistair's face as the Grey Warden laughed mirthlessly. "If you say so," Alistair conceded, although something told Logan that Alistair wasn't completely agreeing with Carver's assumption.

After finishing off his third helping of stew, Logan decided to go out and look for Morrigan while the rest stayed indoors. He felt like he had a sense of responsibility over their lives, especially after his conversation with Alistair the night before, and insisted that Garrett stay with them despite the Hawke's protests.

The chilled air sent his hairs standing on end as he strolled through Lothering, observing the ever-busy merchants hard at work—at ripping people off or doing honest work, Logan would never know—as he eventually ventured into the Lothering inn. Seconds after he did, Logan found himself roughly pinned against the wall by a stranger, with several more behind him holding weapons at the ready. Logan reached up and swung his fist as strongly as he could in the man's face, and watched him double over with pain.

"What do you want?" Logan asked coldly, his left hand readily clutching his staff, "Who are you?"

"You're one of the Grey Wardens," the man growled, wiping away the blood from his mouth and nose, "The traitors who left King Cailan to die at Ostagar!" Immediately, a few heads in the inn turned, and Logan felt anger seethe through him as he thought of Cailan and Duncan, and Loghain's betrayal.

"Your lies will get you nowhere," Logan retorted, drawing his staff, "Who sent you? Was it Loghain?"

"Teryn Loghain has ordered your immediate execution to the Denerim guard following the issuing of the bounty on the Grey Wardens," the soldier said, as he drew his sword at the ready. "You have done a great disservice to Ferelden in deserting the king to the darkspawn!"

Logan, unable to control himself, swung his staff with precision and jabbed the soldier right in the eye. "Keep on lying, and I'll take your eyes out!" Logan threatened, as a redheaded chantry sister suddenly stepped in between the two parties.

"Now, now," she said coolly, looking from Logan to the soldiers, "We can settle this the easy way."

"He's spreading false rumors about the Grey Wardens," Logan growled, "Please, step aside, miss. I'll handle this."

"If you side with him, you are a traitor to Ferelden!" the leader spat, pointing his sword to the sister's neck. At that very moment, Logan thought he saw a dangerous glint in the sister's eyes, but it disappeared as soon as it had come. His eyes gradually fell upon the daggers that she was wielding and realized that it wasn't her eyes that had flashed dangerously—it had been the daggers he had not seen her draw.

"Then I suppose I have no choice," she said, her voice tinged with regret, as she kicked the leader aside with such a surprising strength that he fell backwards and toppled over a nearby table.

There was no time to marvel at her skills as the soldiers advanced toward Logan, their swords at the ready. He ducked immediately as a soldier swung his sword at his head and, seeing that his sword was stuck to the wooden door of the inn, jabbed his staff upwards into the man's jaw so hard that a sickening crack could be heard. The soldier fell to the ground, writhing in pain as Logan dodged another sword and found himself back-to-back with the chantry sister, who was busy fending off the leader of the group.

Summoning his mental strength, Logan immobilized the soldier with a paralysis spell and turned around to fight off the leader alongside the chantry sister, who possessed lightning speed skills that he could not help but momentarily gape at.

He quickly pointed his staff at the remaining threat and sent a wave of electricity coursing through his body. The soldier staggered backwards and dropped his greatsword, as the chantry sister delivered a swift kick to his face and sent him falling over and flat onto his face.

She turned to Logan, wiping away the sweat from her brow as she suddenly let out a gasp. Logan turned around only to see the soldier with the broken jaw charge at him with a sword, and barely managed to escape with a cut in his arm as he sidestepped the soldier and watched him turn to ice the moment the door to the inn swung open, with Morrigan stepping in to intervene.

"Alright, alright!" pleaded the soldier, who had managed to pick himself back up from the ground after being shocked by Logan's lightning spell, "We surrender!" Logan pointed the staff dangerously close to the man's jaw, livid with anger.

"They have surrendered," the chantry sister spoke up, resting her hand on Logan's hand and lowering it gently. "There's no need to fight."

"I won't want them running back to Loghain and telling them what happened," Logan said, as Morrigan stepped forward beside him. "And risk more soldiers running after us even after we leave Lothering."

"No, please!" the soldier begged, as he caught sight of his comrades—one paralyzed and the other dead on the ground. "I'm begging you!"

"We've disrupted enough of the peace in Lothering," the sister persuaded him, her brilliant blue eyes filled with seriousness and determination. "Please." Logan looked from the shaking soldier to the chantry sister, considering his options. He looked around and saw that most of the Lothering peasants were cowering in fear, and the bartender rooted to the spot looking a sickening shade of green.

Reluctantly, he lowered his staff. "Take a message to Loghain," he growled, glaring at the soldier.

"Of course!" the soldier said, more than happy to be spared from certain death.

"Tell him that he'll have to try better than this." With that, Logan stepped aside to allow the soldier to leave, after releasing his remaining comrade from paralysis. "Thank you for your help," he said, turning to the chantry sister at last, "Where does a sister learn to fight like that?"

"Clearly not in the chantry," Morrigan piped, scrutinizing the sister suspiciously.

"Allow me to introduce myself—I am Leliana," the sister smiled so sweetly at Logan that he was beginning to doubt that the person that had been fighting alongside him a few minutes ago had been the same, "You are a Grey Warden, are you not?"

"Yes… why do you ask?" Logan desperately hoped that she wasn't someone after the heads of the remaining Wardens in Ferelden. With her evident prowess, he didn't want to have to face her in combat, even if Morrigan was at his side.

"I have… seen a vision—from the Maker," Leliana told him, "Of the Blight. I am led to believe that the Maker intends for me to go with you on your travels to stop the Blight."

"Sorry… a vision?" enquired Logan, not sure whether he should believe her or not.

"I know it sounds crazy, but it is true," Leliana insisted, her eyes pleading for his understanding, "I am to help you against this Blight, by the will of the Maker. Please, trust me." Logan tilted his head curiously, wondering whether he should classify her as crazy or believe that she was just telling the truth. He considered their current situation for a while, and ultimately decided that help—no matter how strangely it was presented to him—would still be help after all.

"Alright," Logan relented, "You may come with us. I suppose we do need all the help we can get."

Morrigan made a noise of disapproval behind him. "Perhaps your skull was cracked worse than mother suspected…"

Leliana burst into a hopeful smile. "Thank you for believing in me," Leliana exclaimed, holding his hands and squeezing them, "We will leave in the morning, yes?"

"Yeah," Logan said, smiling a little, surprised at her optimism. "I'll return here in the morning to look for you."

"Then I will be waiting here," Leliana said, eagerness written all over her face. Logan couldn't help but smile as he left the inn with Morrigan beside him, still showing her disapproval without any thought of keeping it all to herself.

"Don't you worry," Logan told her, "She will be of use to us yet."

Morrigan crossed her arms over her chest, unable to see reason with Logan. "Very well," she agreed slowly, "But if she begins to prophesy my death, then she will be the first to go."