Author's Notes: Retail has finally let me go from holiday, YAY. I exist again, aside from sleeping for 10 hours just to recover from what I was going through. As such, here is the next chapter of the story. Hope you all enjoy :)

Gatorsnacks: This chapter will answer that very question! *cough*

"No more traveling by boat. No more. Not unless we own a private one."

Thayer's legs wobbled as he stood upon solid ground for the first time in over a week. Coming into Kirkwall was impossible any other way besides boat, a fact which didn't sit well with him. At all.

He brushed his hands down the front of his robes. They needed to be washed—terribly. They were somewhat encrusted with sea water and brine, and the distinct scent of body odor clung to them, not only from himself, but some of the other passengers, as well.

It was certainly no way to travel…not for somebody of his station.

Thayer shook his head. He'd been playing 'Arl of Amaranthine' for too long. He'd fallen into the same privileged pitfall as those he'd promised to never become. So much for that.

Alistair stretched his arms out wide beside him. "Yes, yes, love, you say the same thing every time. We'll teleport next time, how's that sound?"

"Oh, right. Make fun of the weak-stomached."

Thayer was smiling, though, because as he spoke he saw his cousin jogging up the boardwalk toward where their ship had docked.

"Thayer! Alistair!"

"Garrett! What a sight for sore eyes!"

Seeing Garrett helped to mask Thayer's discomfort, if just for a moment. The two men embraced in a brief, but loving hug, and when they broke apart, they clasped their hands together in a firm shake.

And then Garrett laughed.

"Oy, you smell like the sea. You need a bath."

Thayer snorted. "You're telling me. I've only been drenched by salt water four times over by now."

"And it's all I've heard for the last week or so," Alistair added. "You know, the usual."

After giving Alistair a playful nudge, Thayer followed Garrett away from the boardwalk and up the long staircase that led into Lowtown. Even on a beautiful day, with not a cloud in the sky, the energy around the city felt oppressive and heavy. The usually bustling streets were far emptier than Thayer remembered them. This must have been the effect of all the issues Garrett had written about in his letters.

Alistair shuddered visibly as they stopped to take a breath outside the Hanged Man.

"Is it just me, or does everybody seem on edge?"

"This is what I was talking about," Garrett said. He glanced around them briefly. "We'll talk more about it once we get to the estate."

It wasn't until a good while later that the three men finally arrived at the Hawke estate. Thayer was relieved to see that not much had changed since the last time he'd visited. Aside from an additional portrait here and a potted plant there, the estate had remained largely the same. As they passed through the main hall toward the sitting room, he noticed Bodahn and Sandal sitting near the fireplace, reading a book together. It made him smile.

Hawke ushered them into the sitting room, toward the upper level where they housed a good portion of their books. In an odd way, it felt like coming home. Thayer couldn't quite explain it; it was a comforting sensation.

"So is everybody in the city a zombie, or what?" Alistair asked bluntly upon sitting down. "They all look like they might just as soon eat my brains as talk to me. It's terrifying."

Garrett tried not to laugh. "No, nothing like that. But everyone is being extraordinarily careful. As I told Thayer, after the viscount's murder and Meredith's rise to power, it takes very little to set off an alarm nowadays."

Garrett briefed Alistair and Thayer in more detail what had happened in Kirkwall since their departure, focusing primarily on Meredith's growing suspicions, accusations and condemnations. He spoke with vivid detail of her disgusting practice of making mages tranquil without proper evidence, and how it had expanded not only to apostates, but to many within the Circle, as well. That, of course, didn't sit right with Thayer, who couldn't help thinking that Meredith had far overstepped her boundaries. She was one step away from invoking the Rite of Annulment, outrageous as that might be.

And what of Solona, he wondered?

"Do you know if anything happened to my sister?" he asked.

"Your sister?" Garrett scratched his jaw, appearing confused. "Oh, right, Solona. As far as I know, she's just fine. Orsino likely would have told me so I could pass on the news, otherwise."

Thayer breathed a sigh of relief. Though he had yet to actually contact her, this scare was as good as any to help him write that first letter.

"Meredith even asked me at one point to help her find some mages on the run," Garrett continued. He set his jaw. "I couldn't believe her gall. She wanted me to help find escaped mages so she could make them tranquil. It's sick." He shook his head. "Now you can see why I asked you here. I was hoping that, between the two of us, we could appeal to her and prove to her that not all mages are walking bombs awaiting detonation. Or, at the very least, perhaps we could offer our assistance in helping her find a new viscount…"

Thayer could see the discomfort and anxiety in his cousin's weary eyes. Though they weren't far apart in age, Garrett looked so much older in that moment. He was hunched over with his hand cupped over his mouth and his brow furrowed.

"When do you think would be best to speak with her?" Alistair inquired.

"We could go to the Gallows at any time, I suppose," Garrett said. He let his hand fall upon the table's surface. "Meredith has her templars do her dirty work for her. She's always in her barracks, somewhere."

The two Fereldans nodded. Thayer leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. This was a delicate situation that required a very careful approach. If they took one misstep, who knew what could happen?

"Messere Hawke?"

All three men turned their attention to the doorway. There stood Bodahn, grasping an aged envelope in his hands.

"Sorry to interrupt, Messere, but you've received a note from First Enchanter Orsino. It was delivered by a mage just a moment ago. Seemed rather urgent, so I wanted to make sure you got it right away."

"Thank you, Bodahn. I'll take it now."

Bodahn delivered the parchment letter to Garrett, who cracked open the wax seal and read over the words. He blanched, the telltale sign that something had either gone wrong, or…well, horribly wrong.

"What is it?" Thayer asked.

"It would seem Orsino and Meredith are about to launch this miscommunication into full blown war. We have to get to Lowtown, immediately."

. . . . .

It happened faster than anyone could have predicted.

Thayer stood by and watched in horror as two pillars of light burst from the chantry. Within moments the building cracked, burst and exploded into thousands of pieces, only to be lifted into the air and expelled away. Where once stood a majestic and glorious piece of architecture now was nothing but a black cloud against a shrouded grey backdrop.

Amidst all of the shocked cries of surprise came the wail of Knight-Commander Meredith: "Maker have mercy!"

First Enchanter Orsino turned and faced Anders, eyes alight with rage. "Why did you do that? How could you do that!"

"I've removed the option of compromise," Anders said. "There is no compromise."

"You've destroyed the chantry…slain the grand cleric through your morbid abuse of magic." Meredith's voice cracked with rage. She balled her hands into fists and shook her head. "As Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, I hereby invoke the Right of Annulment. Any and all mage in the city is to be executed—immediately!"

"No!" Orsino cried. "You can't! The Circle had nothing to do with this, nothing! Champion!" He turned to face Hawke. "Make her see reason! Please!"

"He will stand with me or face the consequences!" Meredith shouted.

Neither Meredith nor Orsino seemed to exist to Hawke at that moment. Thayer watched his cousin turn all of his attention to Anders, his face contorted with disgust.

"Is that—is that why you needed me to distract the grand cleric?"

Anders' expression hardened. "It's too late now. What's done is done."

"Their innocent blood is on your hands!" Hawke exclaimed.

"You've doomed us all!" Orsino added.

"We're all going to die soon, anyway," Anders growled. "A fast death now or a slow one later. I'd rather die fighting."

Meredith scoffed.

Tension hung in the air, near palpable. Thayer felt his palms beginning to sweat. He never would have thought this possible. How could Anders do something so radical, so violent? In that moment he was a completely different person, and just the sight of him made the Warden-Commander sick. He hated himself for feeling such a way, but how could he not? So many innocent people were murdered. It was terrifying.

"As upsetting an incident as this is, I will not stand by and watch more innocents be slaughtered simply because of the actions of one mage," Hawke said, bringing the attention back to himself. "Meredith, I cannot help you. The answer to slaughter is not more slaughter. The Circle mages had nothing to do with it."

"The actions of one will rally the many!" Meredith shouted. She looked to her guards; her words, however, were directed at Orsino, whose disdain was etched clearly upon his face. "So be it! If it's a fight you want, it is a fight you will get!"

Meredith turned to take her leave. "You had best prepare, Orsino. Any mage found will be executed on the spot."

"Go!" Orsino said to the mages standing behind him. "We must protect the others!"

Thayer couldn't explain what happened next. People were flying left and right, all moving in multiple directions. Before he knew it they were alone, down to a group of less than ten. He saw Alistair, Hawke, Anders, Fenris, Aveline, Merrill, Isabela and Varric. All of them wore differing expressions, but all seemed uncomfortable—betrayed by one of their very own.

"I'm sorry, Garrett," Anders finally said.

Alistair groaned loudly. "You destroyed the chantry! Killed hundreds of innocent people! And you're sorry?"

"Enough!"

Hawke's deep voice reverberated through the street. Everyone fell silent at its deafening tone.

Garrett stared at Anders with visible pain in his eyes. "Why, Anders? Why?"

Anders spoke quietly, but firmly. "The world needs to see that the Circle isn't an option. It's condemnation."

"I might have understood, had you told me what your plans were."

"And risk letting you stop me? Or worse, become a part of it?" Anders shook his head. "I couldn't allow that to happen. I did what had to be done because it was the only thing that could be done. If I pay with my life for it, then so be it. I'm ready to accept my fate. Let my sacrifice be the catalyst for a revolution."

Alistair opened his mouth to speak again but Thayer gripped his arm to quiet him. Now was neither the time nor the place for another comment.

Garrett looked at his companions. They all remained silent, save for Fenris, who shrugged his shoulders.

"If he's ready to die, then kill him and let us be done with it. A war is about to break out, and I, for one, would like to prepare myself."

The beseeching look Thayer's cousin gave Aveline, his longtime friend and Captain of the guard, fell short. She agreed with Fenris' sentiments.

"Nothing excuses what he's done, even if it was in the name of the greater good. Too many lie dead because of him."

Finally, Garrett turned to Thayer. The uncertainty in his cousin's eyes bored deeply within him. He wanted to say yes, to say Anders was worth saving, but when he looked around him, when he looked at the gaping hole where the chantry once was, he wavered.

Anders was his friend. Thayer had conscripted him all that time ago, saving him from a life of condemnation. He had fought beside him through moments of unspeakable difficulty, and had given him purpose. Anders was a joyful, happy-go-lucky man who, somehow over the years, had become jaded and radical.

This was cold-blooded murder. There could be no redemption for such a cruel act—not even when done in the name of revolution.

Thayer didn't know what to say, didn't know what to do. He shook his head and bit his lip, as if to say: This is your decision.

Hawke placed his hand on Anders' shoulder. The two stared at each other in silence for a long while. An unspoken agreement must have come to pass between them, as they shared a lingering kiss and a loving hug. As Hawke began to pull back, a fireball formed in his hand. Without warning he pushed it into Anders' stomach, burning his flesh and mortally wounding him.

The blond haired mage stumbled back with a grunt. He looked down at the bleeding wound in his stomach, then to Hawke, and finally, to Thayer. His eyes did not show any remorse; on the contrary, he looked at peace, as if he'd made right by himself with his decision. As Anders fell to the ground, he wrapped his arms around his stomach and cried out. His entire being flashed blue, crackled, then sizzled out. In mere moments he fell silent, motionless upon the stone ground beneath him.

"Good-bye," Thayer whispered under his breath, clutching Alistair's arm.

It was never easy watching someone die, especially someone who was close to you. His throat burned but he kept his eyes dry—the Anders he knew wouldn't want tears. He'd want action.

Hawke stared down at his lover's body. After a few moments of silence he set his jaw and squared his shoulders. He turned around to address his team. Thayer could see the hurt in his normally kind eyes, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

"We need to go confront Meredith," Garrett said. "Her tyranny cannot go on any longer. Know now that You're either with me or you're not. If you don't want to battle by my side, then please, take your leave."

"Always by your side, Hawke," the dwarf Varric said. He lifted up his crossbow and gave him a wink.

"You have my blade," Aveline said. "Now and always, Hawke."

Hawke's other companions gave their encouraging murmurs of agreement. Afterward, Garrett turned an expectant eye to Thayer and Alistair.

"By your side, cousin," Thayer said. He looked briefly at Alistair, who nodded in agreement despite the tightness in his own jaw. He was glad to know that Alistair could put aside his disgust for Anders' actions and think of saving more innocent people from an untimely death. "You have us both."

"Good. Then let's go show that bitch who she's messing with."

Hawke squared his shoulders one more time before stalking through his group of friends. Before they left the area completely, Thayer looked back at Anders' lifeless body, feeling a twinge of sorrow ripple through him.

Another friend lost.

Was this ever going to end?