Varania found a quiet spot and tried to pretend she was alone.

There was no being alone in Skyhold. No matter where anyone went, there was always someone else just around the corner. Everyone knew everything. In the garden, people tried to leave someone who looked like they wanted solitude alone. But Varania couldn't help but listen, the voices weaving in and out of notice. A book lay open in her lap, but she wasn't reading it.

"I know Mother," Kieran's voice said softly. "But I want to ask her anyway. I know why you didn't tell me he was my father before, but I want to know who he was." He cocked his head, his dark hair falling across his forehead just as Varania looked up at him. "You said he was a good man, but I don't know what that means."

"Kieran," Morrigan's tone was exasperated. "Perhaps I should not have told you. I did not-"

"But you did," he interrupted her. "I want to know. Please mother."

Morrigan seemed to be fighting to deny him whatever he was asking, but he plead with her, his uniquely shaped brown eyes tugging at her. Her shoulders slumped.

"As you wish," she acquiesced. "I will ask Amell if she will speak with you, but I cannot guarantee she will be willing to discuss this now." Morrigan looked pointedly over at Varania, as if she realized she was being overheard.

"Inquisitor, would you mind keeping my son out of trouble until I return? I-" she paused. Hesitated. "I need speak with Warden Amell for a moment."

Varania didn't bother to hide that she'd been listening. "Of course." She smiled at Kieran and patted the bench next to her. He nodded but turned his head to watch his mother go, his profile to Varania.

He looked much like Morrigan, with her high cheekbones and the sleek angle of his jaw, even with its youthful softness. But his profile revealed more, the hawkish shape of his nose, his chin, the shape of his brow...

I know why you didn't tell me he was my father before.

Maker...she didn't need to ask who his father was now. His face made it abundantly clear.

Loghain.

Kieran turned his face back to Varania and the stark resemblance disappeared into Morrigan's face again, but with the round cheeks and proportions of a child. He came and sat beside her without complaint.

"Hello Inquisitor," he said, ever polite.

"Hello Kieran," she said. Varania wasn't sure if she should talk to him like a child or something else. His voice was so young, but Kieran's eyes had old wisdom in them. "How are you?"

"I'm sad." It was a matter-of-fact statement. He didn't elaborate.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Varania sighed. "A lot of us are sad right now."

He looked up at her expectantly. "Is it because Loghain died?"

She nodded. "Yes, and many others."

"Did you know him too?" he asked. His voice pitch got even higher.

"A bit," Varania said. "Not well, but he was kind to me. He will be missed."

Kieran made a little huff and his shoulders slumped just as Morrigan's had but it seemed uncharacteristic. He always held himself so regally.

"I wish I'd gotten to meet him," he said softly, almost a whisper. "I'm not supposed to tell anyone, but mother says he was my father and that...seems right."

Varania wasn't entirely sure how to continue. It was one thing to see the resemblance, and another entirely to hear the actual words that confirmed it. "I didn't know that."

"No one does." Kieran looked up at her. "But I can trust you." Varania realized she looked puzzled because he shrugged fluidly before he continued. "I know things sometimes."

She smiled without considering it. "I can tell you what I know, what little there is, if you'd like."

He nodded. "Yes, please."

Varania closed the book in her lap and set it to the side. She intentionally turned towards Kieran, one arm on the back of the bench behind his shoulders.

"Loghain was very dedicated," she said. "Willing to fight for what he thought was right, even if it was dangerous." The Wardens were chasing him the entire time she'd known him. They would have killed him, had he given them the chance. "But he was also able to be soft spoken and very kind when the situation needed it. He helped me when I was hurting and sad. He gave me good advice and some comfort when I needed it." She took a deep breath. Her chest felt tight, reminding her how she felt when she spoke to Falon'Din on Loghain's behalf. "I'm going to miss him, though I only knew him for a short time."

Kieran's head was cocked as he listened, rapt. It was almost like he was listening through her words, checking for truth. He gave her the impression that he was very good at ferreting out truth from lies. She wondered how Morrigan had kept this from him for so long.

"I know there's this entire big history he had," she continued. "But I'm not really the one to tell that story."

"That's all right," he said. "Mother can tell me that. A book could too. I want to know what's not in the books. That's the important part."

"Sometimes," she said quickly. She picked her book back up and patted the cover. "There's important things in here too, as long as you remember its just someone telling you a story, no matter what the cover claims."

He puzzled that out for a moment and then a smile spread across his face. "I like you," he decided. "You're wise."

Varania laughed. "Hardly. I feel like I don't know anything."

"That's why you're-" He didn't finished his sentence before a familiar voice appeared at the edge of hearing.

"I still can't believe you named him after my mabari, Morri," Amell said.

Morrigan's shrug was so much like Kieran's it gave Varania goosebumps. "He was a noble creature."

"He put dead rabbits in your underwear." Amell smirked and Morrigan mirrored her expression.

"It will probably be good for both of us to talk about it, about him," Amell continued as she smoothly changed the subject, the jovial tone evaporating from her voice. "There's no one else who wants to hear it." Her face looked sour.

Morrigan looked surprisingly empathetic. "Men do not like being reminded they are not the only lover a woman has ever had." She shook her head. "Nathaniel will get over it. He is just jealous; he loves you. 'Tis obvious for anyone to see."

"I know," Amell sighed. "It's still frustrating." She caught sight of them then, Varania and Kieran side by side on the bench. Kieran was still looking at Varania and she saw his profile. Amell's eyes went wide. "That must be him." She wasn't really asking.

Morrigan nodded. "Kieran?" His head turned to her. "The Warden has agreed to speak with you."

"Call me Kya," Amell said, shaking her head at Morrigan. "I'm hardly The Warden these days. Just Kya."

Varania stood and offered her seat to Amell. A part of her wanted to stay and hear their conversation. She was probably half as curious as Kieran was about Loghain, but she couldn't think of an actual reason to be there. She excused herself, carefully moving far enough away so she wouldn't be able to hear them.

She couldn't help but look back over her shoulder at them. Kya sat beside Kieran and gently touched his face, finger running over the ridge of his nose. She tried to smile but it collapsed and her shoulders trembled. She said something to him that Varania couldn't hear. Kieran looked sad for a moment and then Kya hugged him.

They both were crying. Varania looked away.

She made her way into the nook between Morrigan's storage room and the shrine to Andraste. There were more benches in there with a clear view of the sky above. Better yet, the walls would block her view of Kya and Kieran.

Usually the nook had a few people inside, using the muffled silence to read or just stare up into the clouds. Today wasn't so different though there was only one. Because the Maker had a terrible sense of humor and apparently she hadn't been emotionally compromised enough for one day, the person sharing the nook with her was Fenris.

He looked up at her, his green eyes wide. "I was waiting for you." No coincidence then.

Varania swallowed and tried to look nonchalant, picking a seat near enough to speak without shouting, but far enough away so he couldn't just reach out and put his lyrium fist through her ribs.

"Here I am." Her voice was entirely more strained than she intended. She suddenly wished Solas was there with her.

Fenris struggled to meet her eyes. He looked like he wanted to fidget, but he was too proud to do it. Finally he looked up at her and spoke, his voice low. "I was wrong about you."

Of all the things she expected he might say, that he'd say that had never even crossed her mind. She expected he would be grateful that Hawke was alive, but she was certain she'd never heard Fenris or Leto ever admit he was wrong about anything before in her life.

"How so?" she managed to squeak out. She had to hear this.

His jaw clenched and unclenched. "You know I'm not good at this."

She chuckled and it diffused some of her tension. "I know."

He tried again. "I wanted to hate you." He snorted. "I didn't want to hate you. I don't know what I wanted. But I wanted to be right; I wanted it to be righteous that I was carrying around all this anger. You betrayed me. It couldn't possibly have been my fault."

"It wasn-" She started and he cut her off.

"It was, in part." He sighed. "It was easier to think I'd lost everything. I even tried to walk away from Hawke. But I couldn't do it. I was weak."

"You love her," Varania said, finally managing to get a word in. "That's not weak."

"I know that now." He actually smiled. "Its taken a lot of stamina to love Hawke."

Varania couldn't help but smirk at his phrasing. She spent too much time with Iron Bull and Dorian and Sera.

Fenris was nonplussed. "She is a difficult woman. But she's the most important thing that has ever happened to me." He let out a breath through his nose. "I saw your face during the memorial. Warden Loghain had become your friend, but I kept Hawke away from you. You hardly knew her. Yet you-" He fumbled for words. "She told me what happened."

Varania wished she could just tell him it was his words that swayed her. They played a part in that decision, but it was hardly the only thing she'd considered. Now, she was just Varania, but in the Fade, she had to be The Inquisitor. It was like uncomfortable armor and she had to move as the joints allowed. Leaving Loghain to cover their escape, the elder warrior, the broken man with the tactical genius...it was logical, not just sentimental.

He seemed to read that on her face, though she didn't speak. "I know it wasn't for me," he said. "I know what Hawke has had to do as the Champion. But I'm grateful, nonetheless." He looked away and pondered as he paused, then turned back to face her. "You made a choice and it was the right one, for a lot of reasons. I...I thought you only made decisions for yourself."

"I used to," she admitted. "I didn't have anyone else to choose for, except you. I really thought-" Now she struggled. She was terrified of her brother, probably for good reason. But she'd fought far more frightening battles than this before. She scooted closer and held out her hand to him. "I really thought that freedom was just painful. I thought if I was suffering you must be suffering too. I thought I was helping you."

Fenris stared at her hand. There was a long, awkward moment of silence but then he moved forward and put his palm against hers, let her fingers wrap around his hand. He swallowed hard enough that Varania saw his throat move under the tendrils of lyrium. The vallaslin she'd insisted on adding to her own neck was nearly identical. Though she was fair where he was dark, when she looked up at him, she saw her own face reflected there; the same nose with the tip down turned, the square jawline, the jade colored eyes.

"I can't forget what happened but I also have started to remember what was before," Fenris said. He squeezed his fingers around her hand, each long brown finger scarred with a line of pale blue lyrium. "I-." He swallowed.

"Leto," Varania said softly. She didn't correct herself to using the name Danarius gave him, the name he chose to keep in protest. "Leto, you don't have to."

"I do," he muttered. "For me." He was staring at their entwined hands. Varania wondered what he saw, if he remembered before when they would walk together as children, the comments from the other slaves how they were such an odd pair of twins. The same face, the same hair but one pale as the moon and the other dark as if browned by the sun. They were always too different; too the same. They fought constantly. They hated each other. They loved each other more.

It hadn't changed, even with slavery and death and betrayal looming between them.

"I forgive you Varania," he said finally, his voice strangled. Tears pricked Varania's eyes and she couldn't speak. It was as if she couldn't find enough air to make the words come out. Before she could compose herself, he continued. "We're leaving tomorrow. With the Grey Wardens." He looked up at her, his eyes wide and glassy. "I don't know if we'll ever come back."

"Oh, Maker," she blurted out. It was right for so many reasons. Though the Wardens had Kya Amell and Nathaniel Howe to guide them to Weisshaupt, they were Wardens too, tainted by the Blight and just as susceptible to Corypheus if he tried again. If Hawke and Fenris went with them, untainted as they were, they could see if the corruption was beginning again. They could be the voice of reason, keep them moving even if the Calling returned and the voices sang. But why did it have to be now? Why did she get her brother back, her only piece of family still left only to lose him again? "Leto, I-" Her voice was choked. "Please, be safe."

Fenris nodded, making no attempt to correct her using the wrong name; the right name. "Of course. I have Hawke and Bethany to worry about now. I don't take chances with them." He squeezed her hand again. "The Anderfels are bleak from what I hear, but they are also the safest place in Thedas right now."

"I understand," she said, wiping at her eyes. "It will just be strange to miss you now, instead of just...imagining how much you hate me."

The corner of his mouth turned up. "I can take it back."

Varania smiled but a sob came out at the same time. "Fenhedis lasa," she swore. "I know you don't remember, but you are still the same."

"That's comforting to hear," he admitted. "I like that Danarius didn't take that from me, even if I-" He trailed off.

That was a wound that would never heal. The wounds of what happened to them in Tevinter would scar them as long as they lived, no matter how much they tried to let them go. Leaving for the Anderfels, getting so far away, maybe that was a the best balm for his soul. And those green eyes of his baby daughter would be there to remind him that there were beautiful things in the world despite all the ugliness. Knowing he was safe, that his daughter was safe far away from all this horror...perhaps that was balm for her spirit too.

"Danarius took a lot, but not everything," she said. She put her other hand over his. "But we're free now. Both of us. From everything he did, the pain, the abuse, the manipulation. Everything. Now, we are free of him. I only hope you can find some happiness."

"I have," he said. "Hawke is...thank you for bringing her back to me."

"I promised."

"I know; its how I finally forgave you."

Though she tried to stop them, the tears finally came then. She couldn't help herself. She flew forward and pulled Leto into a hug. He flinched at first, but then relaxed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"I hope you can find happiness too," Fenris said as he pulled away. "That elf, Solas; do I need to have some sort of brotherly talk with him?" He snorted. "Like Hawke's brother Carver tried to have with me?"

Varania laughed, crying at the same time. "That would be a sight to see," she snorted. "But I think I'll be okay."

He smiled sardonically. It suited his face. "You better be. I don't want to lose my family, now that I finally have it again. I'll write to you; I need the practice."

She couldn't help but grin. He hadn't been able to read or write when they parted in Tevinter. It was rare for slaves to taught. She only learned after her magic manifested, since she was more valuable able to read and learn about magic on her own. She imagined Hawke must have taught him. She was an amazing woman. Varania was so glad she found him.

"I'd like that."

He squeezed her hand and stood, brushing his palms on his pants. "Hawke's expecting me. We need to get ready to leave tomorrow, but I hope we can see wach other again before we leave."

"I'll come up and find you later. I need to get to know Bethany before you go."

Fenris looked pleased. He nodded and turned to go, walking away through the covered walkway along the edge of the garden. His footsteps were lighter than before, as if there was a weight lifted off of him. She felt lighter too, brighter, like the dark edge of her blood was finally clean again.

She didn't need to feel guilty anymore. She'd made a mistake, a terrible one, but who hadn't failed once or twice? And in the end, this is what had come of it. If she hadn't come to Kirkwall, perhaps no one would have been there to interrupt Corypheus, to steal the anchor. If she hadn't done everything that same way, that little girl with Leto's eyes and Hawke's ears wouldn't exist. Maybe no one would still exist, trapped in Corypheus's web of red lyrium and destruction.

Varania was right where she was meant to be. Maybe it wasn't Andraste that gave her this mark on her hand, but that hardly mattered.

She had work do to. There was a whole world worth saving.

It helped that her brother was in it.