Author's Notes: Hi everyone! Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I was on vacation all of the week before, and I didn't realize that the week before that, I'd forgotten to post. That was my fault. So without any further ado, here is the lovely chapter 11! Well, lovely in the sense of familial ties. This chapter is a bit angstier than others, and for those who've played the game and know what's coming up, then you'll understand.

Gatorsnacks: Unfortunately, I can't tell you otherwise about the upcoming scene. However, you'll see why. I feel this moment above all others is a real cohesive time for Garrett and Thayer.

Let me know what you think of the scene. This was one of my favorite chapters, primarily due to the last scene of the fic. Enjoy!

Finding the blood mage who killed Emeric had proven to be quite difficult. Over the course of the last two weeks, not a single new piece of information surfaced regarding his whereabouts…and more importantly, about his intent. Aveline, Hawke's friend in the guard, had turned up no information through her patrols. Even Varric, who had pulled some favors and dug dirt out of some of his informants, hadn't found anything. It was as if the man had disappeared completely off the map.

Thayer had spent all afternoon with Hawke and Alistair rousing about Lowtown in a final attempt to find anything out, but to no avail. They returned home just as the sun was beginning to set.

"Suppose we'll have to wait for him to make a move," Alistair said, about to shut the front door behind him.

"Wait!"

The unfamiliar voice appeared out of nowhere. Thayer turned to look toward the door, only to see a somewhat gaunt figure trying to push his way through. He slipped past the doorframe and into the mansion, putting Thayer on guard.

"Uncle Gamlen?" Garrett asked in confusion.

Gamlen? This must have been Leandra's brother, the man she'd mentioned a few times since he'd arrived in Kirkwall. The stark contrast of him to Garrett was shocking—they couldn't have looked more different.

"Finally, I've found you." Gamlen approached Hawke and ran a hand down his face. "I've been trying to track you down the last few hours. Where's your mother? Is she feeling all right?"

Garrett blinked. "Can't imagine she'd be feeling any different, Uncle. Why?"

"She never showed up for our weekly visit. Is she here? I need to speak with her."

"We haven't been here all day," Thayer offered.

Gamlen gave him a sidelong glance. "Oh? And who are you?"

"That's Revka's son," Hawke said sharply.

Gamlen blanched. "Oh. Well, just what we need. More unnecessary family."

Hawke folded his arms over his chest. "You were saying?"

"I just need to speak with your mother and make sure she's all right. This isn't like her. Where could she be?"

"She might be with her suitor!"

From within the study appeared Bodahn, a warm smile on his face. He had several books in hand.

"What?" Gamlen asked incredulously. "Leandra has no suitor. She would have told me if someone were trying to woo her."

"Well, she got some lilies this morning. Come to think of it, that was the last time I saw her." Bodahn scratched his chin. "Sandal and I went to the market and when we came back, she was gone. I thought she'd just gone out with whoever sent her the flowers."

Thayer, Alistair and Hawke all looked at one another. A sense of dread filled Thayer, but he knew it had to be said.

"The killer."

Hawke hardened his expression. Gamlen looked at him, mouth agape. "What? What killer? What is this nonsense?"

"There's a killer around Kirkwall who's been sending women flowers before he murders them," Garrett replied slowly.

"Nonsense, your mother wouldn't fall for such stupidity."

"We'll get Aveline of the city guard to watch out for her," Hawke said. When Thayer opened his mouth to say something, he shot him a quick warning look. "Don't worry, Uncle."

Gamlen nodded. He swallowed hard. "Your mother must have just gotten lost in Lowtown. Maker knows she can't ever find her way anywhere. She'll pop up eventually. I'm going back to search for her."

Once Gamlen was out the front door, Alistair said, "We should go with him. The streets will thin out at night. If she's out there, we'll have better luck finding her."

"I'll stay here with Sandal in case she's gone out somewhere and comes back," Bodahn stated. "You lot go help Gamlen, I'm sure he could use it."

Hawke nodded. Thayer stared at him with interest. Though he wanted to ask him why he'd said what he did—Aveline was already on the case—he kept it to himself. He also didn't mention how distant Garrett had become in the last few moments. He didn't need to guess why.

Thayer cleared his throat. "When we go to Lowtown we can get Anders and have him help look."

Garrett just nodded again.

Alistair glanced at his partner curiously, but said nothing.

Hawke started for the door. "Come on, let's go."

. . . . .

"This is where the spell said he was," Gascard explained, voice lilting in slight confusion as he looked around him. He stepped around the corner, guiding Thayer, Alistair, Hawke, Anders and Varric down into a dimly lit corridor.

Anders brandished his staff as they walked further within. "Something's nearby, I can feel it. Or I suppose I should say, Justice can."

They continued down the path until they came into a large, open room with a high ceiling and light pouring in from every direction. Thayer wasn't sure where they were, or where the light was coming from. If he didn't know better, he'd have thought it was being magically synthesized.

On the other side of the room stood a man—a mage—in front of a large throne-like chair. The temperature around them seemed to fall upon Thayer's realization that someone was sitting before the man.

Thayer's heart dropped into his stomach.

Leandra…

"I was wondering when you'd show up," the man said, moving around the side of the chair. He approached the group. He wore a sideways smirk. "Leandra was so sure you'd come for her."

"Yes, well, my mother did always know me best," Hawke spat back acidly.

"Quentin!"

Gascard's sudden outburst caught everyone's attention. This mage was named Quentin?

Quentin's smirk transformed into a surprised smile. "Ah, Gascard. Look at you. You've finally found me. I thought you'd have given up by now."

"You murdered his sister," Hawke growled. "Do you think he would just forget this?"

"Oh, is that what he told you, then?" Quentin chuckled in amusement. "No, Gascard could never do such a thing. Not after I got him started on this path."

Garrett looked at Gascard incredulously. "You lied to me? Bastard!"

"I didn't lie to you, exactly," Gascard said, stepping back. "I'd always planned on killing Quentin. When we kill him, you get your mother back, and I get his research so I can finally learn that which I deserved to ages ago!"

"There's no need for that," Quentin said. "My work is complete…my obsession is over. I've done what I set out to do." He extended his hand to Gascard. "Come back to me, Gascard, and I will teach you everything you deserve to know."

Gascard's expression softened into surprise. He blinked a few times, starting to move toward Quentin. "Y-You…you mean, we can work together again? We can—"

Before Gascard was able to finish his sentence he was shot in the throat by an arrow. He sputtered out helplessly, collapsing onto the ground. From his wound pooled a collection of blood.

Hawke's mouth was agape. "Did you just—"

Varric held his weapon at his side, shrugging his shoulders a few times. "What? You were going to do it yourself. Right?"

Quentin chuckled. "It would seem he met the unfortunate demise he had always feared. It's no matter; I didn't need nor want him."

"Tell me what you did with my mother," Garrett hissed.

"You will never understand what I've accomplished. Your mother…she was chosen to be a part of something greater. Something exemplary."

"I don't care what she was a part of!" Garrett yelled. "Where is my mother?"

Quentin's face contorted into a twisted smirk. "Do you know what the strongest force in the universe is? Love. I pieced her together bit by bit, year after year…her hands, her skin, her delicate, slender fingers…" He circled the chair. "And her face. That beautiful face…"

Thayer watched in horror as the figure sitting in the chair staggered to stand up. She wore a veil and a dingy wedding dress, making it all the more terrifying. What scared him most was the face. He knew that face.

"Leandra!" he gasped.

"I'll kill you!" Hawke yelled, brandishing his staff. "

"You'll never understand!" Quentin pulled out his own staff, and in one swift move Thayer and the others were blasted back from him. Below his feet glowed a glyph that had repelled them away.

"Bastard!" Garrett spun his staff around, then swung it in an arc before him. A wave of frozen shards shot toward Quentin but were suddenly blocked by undead creatures that had begun crawling out of the ground.

Thayer brandished his staff but Garrett growled, "Leave Quentin to me!"

Giving his cousin a nod, the Warden-Commander turned his attention upon an undead warrior that was coming at him full force with its sword. The animated corpse tried to slice him but Thayer stabbed it with his staff, combusting its body and sending pieces flying in every which direction. He looked over his shoulder and saw Varric shooting dozens of arrows into the air, which then rained down and stabbed multiple undead through the head, feet and hands, disabling them.

"I should wish for your death, Hawke!" Quentin said eagerly. "The abomination one could create from you would be unstoppable!"

In a fit of rage Garrett sent a powerful blast of electrical energy at Quentin, hitting him square in the chest. The blood mage flew back into the wall with a grunt.

Leandra stumbled toward Hawke but he drew a glyph beneath her feet, paralyzing her.

"Don't move. Just…don't move," he muttered darkly.

The fight continued, undead soldiers continuing to fall until none remained. Thayer, Alistair, Anders and Varric stood behind Hawke, watching Quentin carefully to ensure he didn't call for any more minions.

"Your mother is gone," Quentin stated. "She no longer inhabits this body I've created. This…this is my beloved. And nothing will change that."

"No!"

Thayer stepped forward and stood by Garrett's side. For a brief moment the two shared a look, and Thayer felt the overwhelming pain in his cousin's expression.

He extended his hand—offering his power—to Hawke. At first the other seemed confused, but he caught on. The two gripped hold of one another, and in a unified move, they extended their staves forward and blasted Quentin with a combined force of lightning and flame. The blood mage's body stiffened, blazing head to toe with pure, overwhelming energy. His screams filled the small cavern, and soon his body collapsed upon the ground, singed black and sizzling.

Hawke pulled away immediately afterward, running toward his mother.

Thayer followed after him. He kept his distance, but could see Leandra's face—could see her clouded eyes and pale complexion. Quentin's magic had to have been keeping her alive. Now…

"Don't move, Mother. We'll get you out of here…find a way to…" Garrett trailed off.

"Shh, darling, don't fret. It will all be all right."

"His magic…" Anders began. "His magic was keeping her alive. Can you feel it?"

Hawke didn't give any sign of acknowledgement. He gripped his mother's hand, pursing his lips tightly together.

"I always knew you'd come and find me. But it's too late now. It was unexpected. Don't blame yourself." Leandra briefly closed her eyes, her breath labored.

"I should have—"

"Shh…" Leandra lips curled into a faint smile. "I'll be with your father and sister now. You'll have your brother. I hope you two can eventually see eye to eye. Carver admires you so."

Garrett let out a weak laugh. "I love you, Mother."

"I love you too, Garrett. You've always made me so proud…"

Thayer watched as Leandra's eyes slowly closed for good, her head lilting off to the side. He saw Hawke shake his head and grip her tighter.

Under his breath, Thayer murmured, "Good-bye."

. . . . .

Thayer couldn't sleep that night. Even with Bodahn's patented warm tea and honey filling his belly, he found no peace.

He couldn't stop thinking of Leandra, of the pain he saw in his cousin's eyes. It was indescribable—the sheer terror that racked Garrett's being when they had to take her body with them so she could receive a proper burial. Hawke had kept uncharacteristically quiet throughout the entire ordeal, even with Anders, which was surprising. He had told himself he would speak with him in the morning, but as more and more time passed, it didn't seem like such a great idea. Garrett was hurting. He would need some time alone to recuperate.

Thayer ended up getting out of bed that night and heading into the kitchen to get himself another warm drink in hopes that it might help him sleep. After stirring some honey into some mead, Thayer started for the exit, stopping himself abruptly at the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway.

It was Garrett.

To Thayer's surprise, it was he who spoke first. "Can't sleep?"

"No."

"What a surprise. Me, neither."

Garrett drifted past him, his eyes gaunt and a little red. He was clearly distraught, but Thayer made no move to mention it. Instead he turned around and wandered back into the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen island and taking a sip of his drink.

"It's times like this I wish I was adept at potions so I could drug and knock myself out." Hawke rummaged around in the cabinets, his back to Thayer. He craned his neck and looked back at the other. "Where'd you get that?" Thayer pointed to the cabinet next to the iron stove. "Thanks."

Garrett fixed himself a drink in silence. Thayer watched him curiously as he consumed all but a tiny bit. The mead was strong—how in the world had he handled that?

He didn't know what to say.

Apparently, neither did Garrett. The two men stood at the kitchen island in silence for what felt like a lifetime. Thayer drank from his goblet up until he'd nearly finished it. At that point, he finally said the only thing that felt appropriate.

"I'm sorry about your mother."

"Me, too. And as much as I want to dwell on what happened, I know I can't. Plenty to be done, all that. You know."

"Are you going to write to your brother?"

"Of course I am. What kind of question is that?" Garrett shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm…"

"Don't worry about it."

"Carver's going to blame me, just like Uncle Gamlen did. Just like everybody else will. I didn't do my job well enough of protecting her."

Thayer wasn't sure that disagreeing with him would do any good. He'd felt this way before personally with the countless innocent people he'd lost under his command. As nice as it was to have someone tell you otherwise, deep down, only you could pull yourself out of that miasma.

He took his goblet to the sink. He turned around and leaned against it. "Whatever you need, Garrett. I'm here."

Hawke nodded. "Thanks."

The exchange, though minimal, had taxed him. Plenty needed to be said, needed to be aired out, but Thayer knew he wasn't the right person for that. Garrett would speak with Anders just as Thayer had spoken with Alistair in times of duress. There were just some things you needed that one person for. Nonetheless, he was family, in a league all of his own. He provided a much different kind of support.

He yawned. Oh, that blessed feeling. He was finally getting tired. Maybe he would be able to sleep now without incident. He wished as much.

"You'll get through it," Thayer offered. "But do it on your own terms. Nobody can tell you how to grieve."

They shared a look from across the kitchen. Garrett nodded again, interwove his fingers atop the kitchen island, and then closed his eyes. He took a deep breath through his nose.

Thayer started for the exit again. "Whatever you need," he repeated, taking his leave for his bedroom.