Author's Notes: Hopefully that little bit of dirtiness was enough to wake everyone up ;) I know I enjoyed it! I know that for quite a while I was alluding to what it was they were doing; I never wanted to just insert pointless sessins in because I didn't feel like it fit. However, in that last chapter, it not only seemed appropriate, it was like I was compelled to put it in. Thayer has a lot going on in his head, and somehow, I don't think Alistair minded the effect. Haha!

Here is chapter fourteen. A familiar (and dear to Thayer) friend reappears in the chapter, so yay!

We're coming to a close within the next few chapters...hard to believe this story, too, has been a part of my life for so long. I love it to pieces, and I know some of you all do, too! Please don't forget to review!

When he truly awoke the following morning, Thayer's muscles ached. He and Alistair had fallen asleep nestled against each other, and that was the position in which he'd awoken. He carefully pulled himself away from his lover, letting his muscles stretch and relax. Alistair stirred from the motions, opening his eyes but not really focusing them.

It wasn't until Thayer felt a painful pinching on his stomach and in his groin that he recalled what happened the night before. He would need a long, hot bath to help bring himself back to business.

"Mm, morning," Alistair mumbled, yawning.

"Morning…"

Both men took their time getting ready. Thayer performed his morning exercises while Alistair spent a few minutes waking up, simply lying in the bed. Thayer kept himself close to Alistair on a mostly subconscious level throughout the rest of the morning—they bathed together, dressed together and headed down to breakfast together.

It wasn't until they had finished their meal and were getting ready to tackle the day's business that Alistair took Thayer aside in the throne room to speak with him.

"Are you all right this morning? Everything okay after…last night?"

Thayer nodded. "Yes, of course. Why?"

"You've been attached to my hip all morning, love. Not that I mind, but it's not normal for the independent man I know."

Had he really been that bad, he wondered? He didn't want to be that man—the one who worried incessantly about being left alone.

It clicked suddenly within his head. Abandonment. Stupid though it seemed, he wondered if that was what had caused him to have such a terrifying dream. He'd grown close to Alistair, and then he had left. He'd grown close to Zevran, and he had left, as well. He'd also grown very close to Leliana, and then she disappeared. Not to mention that he'd just found out about siblings he had about which he'd never known. It was only a matter of time before his heart couldn't handle any more of it all.

"I promise: I ran away once. Never again."

Alistair's sincerity rang clear. Thayer moved in close, ghosting his lips over the other's. The touch was electric.

"I trust you."

"And I you. Now…" Alistair reluctantly pulled back. "I'm going to check on our new Wardens. You want to do the same with the mages? See what you can do about them?"

Thayer nodded. "We'll reconvene in the throne room before lunch."

"Sounds good. Be safe."

"You, too."

Thayer watched Alistair disappear around the corner and out onto the grounds. He ran a hand through his hair. His emotions were in a strange twist, making it more difficult than usual to focus completely. That dream had done quite the number on him—he wished he could push it out of sight, out of mind.

He took a few moments to bring himself to center before heading deeper into the keep. As they only had three mage recruits in total, he knew he would find them grouped together in their favorite haunt: the library.

As he wandered to his destination, he recalled how he'd come across his three recruits. Two of them were fraternal elven twins he'd found on the run outside of Amaranthine. They had set up camp in the Wending Wood, where Thayer had taken to spending significant amounts of time once Alistair had left. It had taken some coaxing to get them interested in the concept of fighting for the greater good, but when he offered them asylum by providing them with a place to live, learn and grow, they were willing to do anything. After their previous experience as house servants for a prominent family in Amaranthine, they both concluded anything was better.

Their names were Enid and Garen. They were somewhere around Thayer's age, or so he assumed; he'd never asked them directly and had no intention of doing so.

His third, and senior most recruit, had been brought to him by Zevran and Leliana shortly after Alistair's departure. Rhiannon was a proud woman from Highever who had traveled to Denerim and had been working in Wonders of Thedas. She was an apostate who had hidden her magic ability until an incident had led her to flee the safety of the city. Zevran and Leliana convinced her to come to Amaranthine and use her spell-work to benefit the Grey Warden order.

As the Warden-Commander and the only real mage left in the hierarchy, Thayer had taken all three of them under his care and tutelage. In his haste to find his lover, he hadn't thought how his sudden disappearance would affect those who looked up to him.

Mistakes were easy to make. Repairing the damage was the hard part.

When he arrived in the library, he found the three mages within, just as he had expected. News apparently had already gotten around the keep that he'd returned, as all three turned from their respective locations around the room to take notice of his arrival.

"Commander!" Enid said. "It's true, you are back!"

"I am," he said. "I apologize for disappearing for so long. There were some private matters I had to attend to that took far longer than I anticipated."

"We're glad to see you back, Commander," Rhiannon said. Thayer did a double-take at her appearance—her brilliant red hair that had once been braided in a plait now framed her face in a short cut.

"Rhiannon, your hair," he said, surprised.

She laughed. "Spell gone wrong. My hair…sort of caught aflame. I had to cut it and restyle. So far, everyone seems to like it."

"Well, all the shemlen men," Garen said, winking.

"Yes, yes, as you're so apt to repeat each and every day." Rhiannon rolled her eyes in amusement.

"I wanted to come you three and speak to you," Thayer stated. There would be no easy way to start the conversation. Surely they would know that Seneschal Varel had informed him of their recent secession from the rest of the recruits, which had put a damper on morale. He had never liked being the one to chastise, so he wanted to approach the subject in a way that wouldn't seem overbearing.

"Come sit with me," he said, taking a seat at a large, round, wooden table that was situated within the center of the library.

All three of them shared looks, all of which expressed their equal concern and understanding at what was about to be discussed. Prior to that, however, Thayer wanted to break the ice a bit. He cleared his throat.

"As you know, I left on a personal matter. And in doing so, I realize that I left you all without a direct superior with whom you can truly connect. For that, I'm sorry."

Enid and Garen looked at one another, then down at the table before them. Rhiannon simply nodded.

"Being a mage is difficult," Thayer said, sounding like a broken record. How many times had he heard that from his superiors? He needed to make his words connect—needed them to spark interest. "I heard that there was some…disconnect, beginning to build between you and the other recruits."

"They're scared of us," Garen said. He brushed some of his dark brown hair out of his equally dark eyes. "The looks they give us during mealtimes…during combat training. It's the same look we get everywhere else."

"Why do you think they're scared of you?" Thayer asked.

Enid sighed. "We're apostates, Commander. You know as well as we do that alone creates fear."

"Yes, but you all seemed to be just fine when I was around."

"When the cat is away, the mice will play," Rhiannon said. "Of course they're going to act like that in your presence, ser. They want to please you. Well, you, Alistair and Nathaniel."

"You do realize by slinking away and only speaking with one another doesn't rectify the situation, correct?" Thayer raised an eyebrow. When none of them replied, he chuckled. "Prejudice is something we all know well. However, we all know something they don't: magic is a blessing. Many view it as a taint just as dangerous as the one running through my veins, but it's not. Magic allows us to connect with the very spirit and earth around us. Have you ever explained that to them?"

"No," the three said in unison.

"Have any of you really taken the time to get to know any of the other recruits?"

"I had spent some time with those two recruits Nathaniel found, Alfred and Kaden," Garen explained. "But I felt like a third wheel. They were always talking about dagger techniques and stealth tricks and…"

When he trailed off, Thayer felt a pang in his heart. It surprised him that even as adults, they still struggled with the type of secluding tactics that children employed to keep out people that weren't like them. Enid and Garen had the added struggle of being elves in a predominantly human environment. Thayer wished Velanna was still around—she would have been an excellent role-model for them.

"We all have to learn to work together with our companions so that our strengths and weakness balance one another out," he explained after a moment's thought. "Mages are a force to be reckoned with on their own, but when paired properly with a warrior and a rogue, the damage can be deadly." He smiled. "Look at me and Alistair, for example. It just takes time to build relationships. Stray away from your battle techniques. Engage them on a personal level. Making friends isn't about sharing how you fight. It's about connecting with someone who shares similar traits and hobbies as you do."

He could tell all three of them were mulling over his words in their heads. Rhiannon seemed skeptical from the look on her face, whereas Enid and Garen looked troubled.

"I'm not going anywhere again any time soon," Thayer stated. "I promise. I will work with Alistair and Nathaniel on more morale building exercises so that the three groups and intermingle more and have more time to grow close. But this is going to take more than just something on my part. Do you all understand?"

"Yes," the three said.

"Good. Now, today we'll consider a free day. Do as you please. But tomorrow…tomorrow, be prepared to show me what you three have learned since my departure. I may not have been here, but I will be able to see whatever growth or stagnation has happened to you and your powers. Also, make sure to do your centering exercises. We're always at our most powerful when we have full control of ourselves."

"Now," Thayer said, moving to stand, "I have some other things to attend to now that I'm back. See you all at lunch, right?"

"Right," they confirmed.

Their tone, now more upbeat than before, indicated to Thayer that they were at least on board with what he had told them. Leadership came naturally to him now more than ever, and for that, he was thankful.

After leaving the library he started on his way for the throne room, hoping to find Mistress Woolsey. They needed to discuss the financial state of the arling, and she was the only person who could assist him with that. To his surprise, upon his arrival, he saw not her, but Seneschal Varel—and standing beside Seneschal Varel was a welcome face he hadn't seen for ages.

"Wynne!"

Thayer hurried across the wooden floor and greeted his mentor with a welcoming hug. Her embrace felt warm, comforting. He held on perhaps longer than he should have, but she indulged—and he appreciated every moment of it.

He pulled back with a smile breaking out across his face.

"Thayer, it's good to see you," she said. She wore a smile as well.

"Wynne, what are you doing here? Seneschal, when did she arrive?"

"Just now," Varel said. "I was about to send someone to find you, but it seems I don't have to now. If you'll excuse me,"—he stepped politely back—"I've got a few things to attend to in the basement regarding the Deep Roads entrance. Thayer, we'll speak at lunch."

"Excellent, Seneschal. Thank you." Thayer turned from one friend to the other. He couldn't stop smiling. "Wynne, what a surprise! I can't believe you're here. What brings you all the way to Amaranthine?"

"I'm on my way to Nevarra," Wynne explained. "The College of Magi is meeting there to discuss an issue that's been on the rise for the last couple of months."

"What's the matter?"

"The Libertarians wish to break away from the Chantry completely. As you know, that's not going to go over well, considering the intricate relationship we Circles share with them. Bureaucracy." Wynne scoffed lightly. "At any rate, I was on my way through, and I thought I would stop to say hello to you, since I'll be taking a ship from Amaranthine's port."

"You've arrived just in time. I just got back, actually."

"Oh? From where?"

"Kirkwall."

Wynne raised an eyebrow. "Do tell me more. What took you all the way to Kirkwall?"

In truth, while Thayer knew he could trust Wynne to keep his reasoning private, he didn't want to have to explain what had caused the rift between him and Alistair in the first place. Perceptive as she was, Wynne would see through any holes in his story and would call him out on them. He decided instead to mention Anders, a safe connection.

"A mage named Anders who I met and worked with here in Amaranthine ended up disappearing after our battle…"

Thayer proceeded to explain to her the situation in Amaranthine, as she had not been around to experience it. That led him to discussing Anders, and how he'd left, resurfacing in Kirkwall several months later. He shared with her how he'd come across Hawke and his family there, and for the first time, he saw her expression falter.

"As a complete sidebar," Thayer began, "I…have a very important question to ask you."

Wynne sighed. "I thought this day might come. Please, can we sit?"

Thayer walked with Wynne over to the conference table, taking a seat beside her. Something about her demeanor wasn't sitting well with him—a foreboding feeling grew within.

"Leandra, my mother's cousin, told me about my siblings, Solona and Daylen. I found Solona, but…Daylen, he—"

"He was a part of the Fereldan Circle, yes," Wynne said. She reached forward and placed an aged hand atop Thayer's. She squeezed gently. "But Thayer, you know why the Circle keeps these things under great lock and key, correct?"

"Yes, I understand. But you're the only one aside from Irving who would have an answer. I know you far better. So please…can you tell me about Daylen? Is he still there? Is he doing well?"

The older mage looked away momentarily—in essence, partially answering Thayer's question. Whatever she had to say, it wouldn't be good.

"Daylen was a lovely boy," she started. She frowned. "Very friendly. Very focused. But he never quite adjusted to living in the Circle. Something about it just didn't sit well with him. He…"

Thayer didn't need to hear the rest. A sickening sensation settled into his stomach, making it lurch. He shook his head. "He didn't make it through his Harrowing, did he?"

Wynne's reply was quiet, distant. "No."

Even though logic told Thayer that he'd never known Daylen and thus had no reason to be affected by this news, his heart ached for the loss of the brother he had never met. He closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath. This wasn't good news—surely not what he had anticipated. After the situation with his sister, he'd hoped that something, anything, positive would happen with his brother.

"Did you know this when you came along with me to fight the archdemon?"

"Yes," Wynne said. Everything about her demeanor changed: she leaned in, gripped Thayer's hand tighter and even set her other upon his shoulder. She was comforting him, much like a mother would, which only led him to feel more frustration and pain. He didn't even have a true mother who could assuage the shock.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"To spare you the pain." Wynne finally pulled away. She rubbed her eyebrows. "You've been through more than anyone I've ever known, Thayer. To tell you that you had a brother who had to be killed would have only made your journey that much harder."

"But not even before I was conscripted? I could have—we could have—"

"That would have made his death all the more devastating to you."

Thayer wanted to disagree, wanted to argue. It would have been better to at least know his brother, to have those memories! But when logic reminded him that Wynne was right, all it did was serve to upset him further. He realized that what hurt the most was that he hadn't ever had the chance to see him. Had Daylen died alone? Had he died sad? He couldn't have known, either, that he had siblings…

In his frustration, Thayer realized he was clenching his fists. He slowly undid them, trying to bring himself back under control.

"I'm sorry," Wynne said genuinely. "I would have taken this secret to my grave to guard you from the pain. You've been through enough."

Saying thank you should have been the first thing Thayer thought—however at that moment, he found himself uncharacteristically speechless. Something within him just wanted to be angry. As much as he may have wanted to, however, he couldn't allow such a powerful feeling to overtake him.

"I understand if you're upset. But please know it was done with the best intentions in mind."

Thayer nodded. He looked away, sighed, and closed his eyes. When he finally turned back to Wynne, he said, "I suppose it's foolish to be upset over the loss of someone I never knew, but I can't help myself."

"And nobody should tell you to. Blood is blood, Thayer. He was family. His death will affect you whether you knew him or not."

"How long has it been?" he asked quietly.

"Quite some time."

"Does he have a resting place?"

"We spread his ashes over the lake, as we do with all the apprentices who don't survive their Harrowing. The Circle was his home; it's only natural he remain there."

Thayer fell silent. At this point, he knew he would need to keep himself occupied. This was yet another loss in his life. He needed to put this pent up energy to use. He wasn't sure how, yet, but he would figure it out soon.

Wynne moved to stand.

"I can't stay long. My guide is waiting outside for me. I should go."

Her imminent departure snapped Thayer back into focus. He, too, stood, and embraced Wynne tightly once more. Their hug lasted long enough to help soothe his troubled thoughts—something he needed desperately.

"Write to me," Thayer said. "Please. To let me know how things go in Nevarra."

"Of course," Wynne agreed. Melancholy pulled at the smile on her face. She brushed her hand over Thayer's cheek. "Do not grieve long, Thayer. You didn't know him. Remember to keep your focus."

"Yes."

Thayer walked with Wynne outside and onto the grounds. A large man stood at the base of the steps, arms folded over his chest. He wore a surprisingly gentle expression. He must have been her guide. Wynne approached him and pointed toward the exit gates briefly before turning to Thayer.

"It was good to see you," she said. "Keep strong. Put your energy into the family you do have."

She made a good point. Fostering his relationship with Garrett seemed much more beneficial. Why he couldn't see that on his own, he didn't know. He supposed that was why he always wished for Wynne's guidance in times of uncertainty: she saw with the type of clarity he could only dream of.

"Good-bye, Wynne," he said to her, smiling faintly. "Safe travels."

"Good-bye, Thayer. Be safe."

. . . . .

As Thayer and Alistair prepared for bed that night, the mage thought about the best way to bring up the subject of Wynne's visit. He and Alistair had talked previously about going to the Circle tower in order to speak with her and Irving about his brother, so this would save them a trip.

But whenever he thought about it, he felt a tightness in his chest. He couldn't describe why, but he knew it had everything to do with the fact that he felt cheated out of time with his brother.

It was a stupid feeling. He'd never known him, after all. And yet, irrational though it was, Thayer couldn't seem to stop.

Unable to keep it inside any more, he blurted it out while undressing.

"Wynne stopped by the keep today."

Alistair, surprised, slipped off his shirt and tossed it over a nearby chair. "Really? How is the old bat?"

"Old bat? Alistair, really?"

"Oh, you know I'm only teasing." He snorted, half-smiling. He wasn't being entirely honest, Thayer could tell. But he let it go. "What was she doing here?"

"Apparently she has a conference in Nevarra she's attending. She stopped by on her way through to say hello."

"How nice of her. She must not have stayed long, though. Didn't see her at lunch or dinner."

"No, she could only stay a few minutes." Thayer slipped into bed, pulling the down comforter up and over his chest. "I…asked her about my brother."

Alistair's curiosity seemed to pique. He, too, climbed into bed, moving close to his partner. "Oooh, details, love, details! What did she say?"

Thayer frowned. "Daylen's…"

"Oh."

He nodded. "He didn't survive his Harrowing."

Alistair reached out and brought Thayer close to him. "I'm sorry, love. Guess that's zero for two, isn't it?"

"I think that bothers me most is that I never got a chance to know him. Or even meet him, for that matter. With Solona, I could always build a relationship. Daylen…" Thayer trailed off. Thinking about it now didn't upset him so much as depress him. It was disappointing to think he would never speak with his sibling; that he would never get to help him deal with being a mage.

Curling in to Alistair's touch, Thayer continued, "Wynne gave me good advice. She suggested focusing on the family I do have."

"Wait, does that mean you're going to start communicating with Solona now?"

"Maybe in the future. But no, I mean Garrett. I'm going to keep in regular contact with him."

"Oh. Okay. Gonna write him?"

"Mm-hmm."

Alistair began idly running his fingers through Thayer's hair. He rested his head against his pillow and sighed comfortably. "Well, more power to you, then. In the meantime, I'll just…fall asleep."

Thayer chuckled. He closed his eyes, leaning in to the touch.

He resolved to write to Hawke tomorrow.