A/N: Sorry for the delay in getting this out; things have been crazy lately. This chapter has some canon dialogue in it, though I try to mix it up so it's a little different. I welcome your comments if you think it needs to be mixed up a little more. Sometimes it's hard to know what to do with canon material, and I know everyone has different opinions about it too.

I also want to thank everyone who's liked, followed and reviewed my story. You guys inspire me to keep writing!

An extra special thank you to my two betas (you know who you are). You guys made me believe in my writing ability again, I couldn't have done this without you!

Act One

Chapter 9

Regrets

Paden and Carver returned to Lowtown with Varric, who kept up a constant narrative as they walked, pointing out this and that; he seemed to have a story for everything. When they reached the Hanged Man they paused to bid the dwarf good night, declining his offer of drinks, since they wanted to hurry and return to their mother with the will. As Paden had expected, Leandra and Gamlen had waited up for them, eager to hear news about the estate. When she and Carver walked through the front door of the dingy apartment, Gamlen and Leandra were in the middle of one of their discussions.

Gamlen was pacing and gesturing nervously. "So I'm just saying, blood's blood and all, but, you are taking advantage of my hospitality. It's only fair that you make somewhat of a…monthly contribution."

Paden couldn't believe what she was hearing, and apparently neither could her mother.

"You sold my children into servitude," Leandra said with a scowl. "Now you're asking me to pay rent?"

Paden and Carver came to stand beside their mother. Paden glared at Gamlen. Where did he even get the nerve to suggest such a thing? They were family for Maker's sake! Not to mention they had practically no income.

Gamlen was obviously nervous though, even more so now that Paden and Carver were present. "Uh…maybe just…put something towards food," he suggested.

"You should be paying us, Uncle," Paden said. At her mother's questioning frown, Paden explained. "We found the will."

"Grandfather left everything to Mother and us," Carver said, stepping forward, the document in his hands. "I guess he had some sense after all. See for yourself." He handed the will to his mother.

As Leandra took the official paper, Gamlen grew agitated. He glanced around the room, as if looking for an escape route. "Oh…uh…I…ah…I should maybe…"

Paden smirked, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction.

Leandra ignored her brother and read aloud, "To my daughter Leandra, and all children born of her…" She paused. "…The estate in Hightown and all associated revenues." She looked up in shock.

Paden smiled grimly and pointed to a particular line of text on the page. "Check out the part where Gamlen is left only a stipend, to be controlled by you."

Leandra read silently, the expression on her face becoming sad. She finally looked up at her brother. "Gamlen, how could you?"

Gamlen grew defensive and jabbed a finger at his sister. "You're the one who ran away, Leandra. To never come back as I recall. What happened to 'love is so much more important than money'?"

"It is," Leandra said.

"You didn't even come home for the funeral!"

"The twins were a week old," Leandra defended, her voice strained as she tried to keep her emotions from bubbling over.

"We all have our burdens," Gamlen allowed. "Mine was looking after a life you abandoned. How long was I supposed to wait?"

"This is what Grandfather wanted," Paden said, gesturing to the will. "This was his last request, and you denied him that. You didn't even write to tell Mother." She felt no sympathy for Gamlen, and was very happy to see him put on the spot now.

"I took care of Father!" Gamlen said, raising his voice defensively. "I stayed. And on his deathbed all he could talk about was Leandra." He gestured broadly at his sister and then paused to take a breath. Sorrow filled Leandra's eyes, and Paden knew that her mother was regretful for leaving her little brother with so much responsibility that he wasn't prepared for. Paden was sad for her mother, but not for Gamlen.

Gamlen sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Look, Sister, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it, but I did, and there's nothing I can do to get it back."

"I didn't expect that, Gamlen," Leandra said. "It's enough to know that Mother and Father didn't die angry. I'll petition the Viscount for rights to reclaim the estate. Maker willing, you'll have your house back within weeks."

Gamlen shook his head. "You don't have the coin or standing to even get an audience with the Viscount. You've got to be someone in this city to live in that house again."

"Then I had better get started," Leandra said, her voice light and optimistic. She left it at that, and went into the bedroom with the will.

Gamlen shook his head in resignation and retreated to his room as well. Paden hesitated, looking at both closed doors. She briefly considered following Gamlen, but what would that accomplish? She didn't agree with what he did, and nothing he could say would change her mind, nor would anything she could say to him change what happened. So instead she followed her mother.

Leandra was sitting in the chair at the small table that doubled as a desk, her father's will in hand, intently reading it. Paden came in and sat down on the edge of the bunk and watched her.

After a moment Leandra looked up at her daughter. "When I told your grandmother I was marrying your father, she threatened to disown me."

Paden arched her eyebrows in surprise. "Disown you? That seems harsh."

Leandra nodded. "She said my children would be mongrels. My father wanted to lock me in, but she told him, 'it's her life, let her ruin it.'" She paused, a sad expression on her face. "I wrote to her when each of you were born. She never wrote back. I'm glad she didn't die hating me."

"I've never heard you talk about Grandmother," Paden said. "Or really Grandfather much either. How come?"

Leandra shook her head slowly. "Perhaps because it was too painful. And also knowing that you would probably never meet them, I saw no reason to try and help you get to know them from a distance."

"They didn't want you marry father because he was an apostate," Paden said. "It was a disgrace?" She had heard that at some point while growing up.

Leandra nodded. "Magic in a noble bloodline is considered a disgrace. I was quite a rebel in my younger days."

Paden smiled at that thought. She would have loved to have memories of her mother that way.

"But it was more than that," Leandra added. "Our family was the most respected in Kirkwall. I never told you this, but around the time I met your father, your grandfather was being considered for the next Viscount."

Paden arched her eyebrows in surprise. "You mean… our family would have been Kirkwall's rulers? Why didn't it happen? Was it because of you marrying father?"

"There was another reason," Leandra said. "A cousin of mine was born with magical abilities. They tried to keep it secret, and even sent the poor child all the way to the Circle in Ferelden to try to keep it under wraps. But things like that never stay hidden, and the secrecy only compounded problem. It was decided that for my father to take the throne with magic in our family would be just too much of a scandal, so he stepped down, and Marlowe Dumar was elected instead. Of course, even if it hadn't happened that way, it still would have happened after I ran off with an apostate."

Paden shook her head slightly. "That's…so hard to imagine," she admitted. "That we would have grown up in Kirkwall's most influential family." She chuckled mirthlessly. "Mother, I am so glad you married father instead."

Leandra echoed the chuckle. "Oh, sweetheart, so am I." She sighed. "I just… You know, my actions were much more of a disgrace to my parents than anything else the rest of the family could have done. It was more personal—especially for my mother."

"I'm sure Grandmother didn't hate you," Paden encouraged. "She was probably just scared of losing you, and scared for you in the life she knew you would be forced to live."

Leandra gave her daughter an appreciative smile. "She would have been so proud of you. You're everything she would have wanted in an Amell grandchild."

Paden arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Really? Magic and all?"

"She might have a hard time accepting it at first," Leandra allowed. "But she would have loved you, all three of you." She turned back to the desk and hung her head. "Oh, Bethany. She was such a sweet little girl. Never cried. Just looked at you with those big eyes."

Paden turned her head and closed her eyes momentarily, fresh grief and guilt reaching out to grab her seemingly from nowhere. "She lives on in our memories," she said weakly, futilely, her words sounding useless and hollow in her own ears. A mockery of her true feelings that were buried too deep now to express.

Paden and her mother had never talked about Bethany's death since arriving in Kirkwall, nor had Paden talked about it with Carver. Perhaps they had avoided the subject in order to avoid the pain. But the pain was still there, and now it was even worse, accompanied by feelings of bitterness and guilt. Paden could still remember that moment so vividly, when her mother cradled Bethany's limp body in her arms, and blamed Paden for the whole thing. Paden should have stopped Bethany from attacking that ogre on her own. Paden should have fought the ogre instead, or at least helped her sister defeat it. At first Paden rebelled against the idea that it had been her fault; it had all happened so quickly, she never had a chance to stop Bethany or help her. But as time went by and her grief festered, so did her guilt. She began to believe her mother's accusations, taking the mantel of blame onto herself without even realizing it. Until one say she woke up and realized that Bethany's death was her fault…because her mother said it was. Her mother, who was supposed to be a comforting and reassuring influence in her life, put that heavy burden on her shoulders, and Paden grew to resent her for that.

"I just keep thinking there's something we could have done," Leandra said, tears welling in her eyes. "It's killing me. I remember that awful creature reaching down and…eighteen years of loving and feeding and raising and…" Her voice fell to a whisper. "That was it."

Paden looked at her mother in surprise. No blame this time? Her mother wished there was something they could have done? Not 'you should have done it yourself'? "At least you're past the 'it's all your fault' thing," she said, her tone bitter.

Leandra looked up at her. "I'm sorry, Love, I was…distraught. I never really believed that, it's just… I… I miss her." She looked down at the table top.

Paden swallowed hard and quickly dashed her fingers across her eyes to catch a tear before it fell. Her mother obviously had no idea how that guilt had festered and eaten away at Paden over the last year. But to hear those words from her mother now lifted a heavy burden from her shoulders. She still blamed herself—it would probably be a long time before she could change her mind about that—but to know that her mother didn't blame her felt so…well, good.

Paden stood up and rested a hand on her mother's shoulder. "I miss her too," she whispered.

"There were four of us when the Blight began," Leandra said softly. "It will never be over while there are just three."

Paden squeezed her mother's shoulder gently and wiped her eyes again. She clenched her jaw tightly and silently cursed her body for wanting to cry, for showing such weakness. But the pain of losing her sister and dealing with the guilt for so long was like a knife that had been lodged in her heart all this time. And in this moment it felt like the knife had been twisted.

Paden stood there with her hand on her mother's shoulder in silence for several minutes. She didn't have anything else to say. Her mother and her had never been especially close—Paden had been her father's daughter, taking after him in almost every way. Sometimes Leandra used to joke that Paden should have been born a boy, the way she chose to wear trousers instead of dresses, and traipsed all over the countryside with her father, learning practical skills that would never suit a lady of the court—which frustrated Leandra no end, since her upbringing had ingrained in her that a lady should always be proper. Leandra had had better luck teaching Bethany those traits.

Paden had always shared her inner thoughts and struggles with her father, and after his death she had just learned to deal with them on her own. After four years she had become very good at keeping her feelings to herself, so that now it was almost a handicap when she actually wanted to speak her heart.

Finally Leandra stood up and faced her daughter.

"Thank you, dear," she said with a soft smile. "Thank you for getting the will. And thank you for…for just being you. I'm going to write to the Viscount. This life we have hear will be over soon, I'm sure of it."

Paden couldn't help but smile slightly at that. Her mother patted her on the shoulder and then left the room, leaving Paden with her churning thoughts and feelings. She sat down in the chair her mother had just vacated. She stared at the three beds all stacked one atop the other. Perhaps her nights sleeping in that middle bunk were numbered. Perhaps there was still hope for them after all. Mother seemed so optimistic.

A moment later Carver came into the room to put his things away.

"Hello, Lord Carver," Paden said with a grin.

He glanced at her, not amused. "We're still a long way from cowing Templars with our titles, sister."

Paden frowned. "You could slap on a smile for a few days. For her sake."

Carver shook his head. "She's not interested in what I think. She wants to provide for us. And you're making sure it happens. And when we're done, I don't know, I guess we'll sit around thinking about how great our family used to be." He turned to face her after hanging his sword on the wall. "Mother didn't even want that life back until we got dumped here. And you only care because we're under Templar scrutiny."

Paden clenched her jaw to keep herself from making a defensive comment. She hated it when Carver boiled all their problems down to the simple and unavoidable fact that she was a mage. He may be right, but she still hated it.

"Very well, Carver," she said instead, keeping her voice even. "What's your plan?"

"I'd look forward," Carver said. "Make something new. Stop paying debts for old men. And if I had to go backward, I'm not looking for ancient names. I'd fix what's important, what went wrong."

"What do you mean 'fix what went wrong'? We can't just go back," Paden said.

Carver shook his head. "We wouldn't need to if you'd done it right," he said bitterly. "Lothering was our home. Not this place. We could have stood our ground. You could have stopped that ogre from killing Bethany."

Paden felt the knife twist again. She closed her eyes, her jaw clenching to hold back the threatening tears that she refused to give in to. She'd had a feeling that he blamed her for Bethany's death. He had grown so cold toward her in those first weeks following the incident. But had warmed considerably in more recent months, perhaps finally putting it behind him. or so she hoped. This was the first time he had ever admitted his feelings out loud, and now Paden could see that he had not put it behind him at all.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, noticing with a little pleasure that he seemed uncomfortable about what he had just said. She stood up to face him.

"You're right," she said.

He looked surprised she admitted that. "What?"

"We could have, should have done more, done something. And I'd change all of it if I could. Maker's breath, Carver, I would have gladly died in Bethany's place." Paden sucked air through her teeth and shook her head as tears welled in her eyes, unwelcome but unstoppable. "But I don't have that option anymore," she continued softly. "I can't change what happened, and you know it."

She finally looked at him, waiting for a response. Carver seemed confused or ashamed, she couldn't tell. He glanced around the room, as if looking for his next line on the wall, but he said nothing. After spilling her heart the most she'd had in a very long time, he had nothing to say.

Paden shook her head, expecting nothing else from him. "Well, good talk," she said sarcastically, and turned to leave the room.

"Sister," Carver called just as she reached the door. Paden stopped, but didn't turn to face him. He hesitated again. "I feel…I don't know. It's like Mother taking everything out on us. She was just scared." He paused again as he struggled to get his feelings out. "I don't have a place in the life she's trying to bring back." Out of the corner of her eye Paden saw Carver run his hands through his hair in awkward frustration. "I'm here if you need me," he finally said. "But I must find my own way."

She waited to hear more, but Carver was finished. He climbed up to his top bunk and retreated out of sight. Paden left the room, and since there was nowhere else to go to be alone in the small house, she went outside, even though it was late and the streets were dangerous at night. She didn't care. She had to get out, and she knew she could take care of herself.

She didn't go far. She walked around the block a few times just to clear her head. She had always blamed herself for Bethany's death, but knowing that the family did as well made it that much harder to bear. At least things seemed to be better between her and mother. But would they ever be with Carver? He was so stubborn. He hated living in her shadow, but would he ever finally step out on his own? Would he ever finally make something for himself? Perhaps after the Deep Roads expedition, when they finally had some money, and maybe even their estate back, Carver would be able to step aside and follow his own path, knowing that she and Mother would be taken care of. Paden hoped that with her whole heart.

She walked past Gamlen's house for the third time. But this time the front door was open, light streaming out onto the street. Leandra stood in the doorway looking worried.

"Paden?" she called. "What are you doing out here?"

Paden sighed. "Just…getting some air," she said.

"Well come back inside now. It's not safe to be walking the streets at night."

Paden didn't argue, mostly because she saw no reason to stay out longer; it would accomplish nothing. She went inside and got herself ready for bed. While she was getting dressed she found the folded letter she had found at the estate and stuck inside her tunic. She took it to bed with her and read it by the light of her single candle. It was a short letter.

To Malcolm Hawke,

It is with great regret that I must inform you that our mutual friend has gone to be with the Maker. Your friendship meant a great deal to him, I could see that plain as day. He will be greatly missed here by many, as well as by you I am sure. Please accept my sincerest condolences.

Your mutual friend, Tobrius

Kirkwall Circle of Magi

Paden frowned slightly and read the letter again. So someone called Tobrius—apparently a mage from the Circle in Kirkwall—had sent this letter to father. Father must have had friends in the Circle. Of course that made sense; he had been in the Circle back before he married mother. Paden knew next to nothing about that part of his life; he never used to talk about it. She wondered why the name of the friend who had died was not mentioned in the letter.

She grunted softly and put the letter under her pillow before blowing out the candle. She and her father had been very close, but there was so much she didn't know about him because he had hated talking about his past. This letter intrigued her, cracking open a door into her father's life that she had never been allowed to look through. She would have to somehow find out who this Tobrius was, if he was even still alive. She wanted to know who this secret friend of father's was.