Roxas had been the only one of the workers to stay for dinner at the main house. The others had taken their allowance to spend at the pub. Lea, Isa and Myde had stared at Roxas while he shoveled his food into his mouth. There had been little time for talk. In between work, bath and dinner, Lea had settled with knowing that Roxas was within reach.

"Something is wrong with your friend, Lea," Isa said. He sat by the edge of the bed and braided his long, blueish hair. Lea had slipped into his nightshirt and searched the floor for his slippers.

"He's fine. I bet he hasn't been eating properly. He needs a few days."

"It's not that. He smells differently."

"Well, that's unfair. He's taken a bath now and won't smell any worse than the cows in the barn."

"Lea…" Isa stood to face him. "Does he use blood magic?"

"Of course not," Lea was quick to deny. "Roxas knows better."

"Where are you going?"

"To talk to him. We have much to speak of." Lea placed a kiss on Isa's forehead. "Rest. I will be back later."

Myde had prepared a shed for his workers. It lay near the main house and had a stove to keep them warm at night. None of the other workers had returned from the pub yet. Lea could see no light from within the shed and knew Roxas had gone outside. He rounded the shed and saw Roxas' silhouette out on the grass field, illuminated by the moon.

"Trouble sleeping?" Lea asked once he came close.

"Nightmares. Do you have them?"

"I used to, but not so much anymore. Yours will go away with time, too."

Roxas nodded slowly. He did not believe it now, Lea understood. He, too, had found it difficult to move forward, away from his past. With help, he had made it.

"Do you still believe in the Maker and Andraste?"

A soft breeze ruffled Roxas hair.

"I do."

"After everything that has happened?" An unsettling sadness coated Roxas' voice. Lea's heart ached at hearing it.

"What's 'everything', Roxas?" Lea put his arm around Roxas' shoulders.

In times of doubt, Roxas had tried to have this conversation with Lea. There was no Maker to look out for them. The Maker, like the Chantry, still held a grudge against mages for what had happened at Black City a millenia ago. Mages could rely on none other than themselves. Roxas' time outside the Circle had only strengthen his belief; they were without worth in this world lest they gave their powers to those who oppressed them.

"I managed to escape with a group of mages," Roxas said and looked at the horizon. "We made it across the lake. But we ran into Darkspawn. Those who refused blood magic were attacked and consumed with Blight. It took them days to die, Lea. We tried every conceivable healing spell and none worked." As soon as his voice wavered, Roxas paused. "The templars came before we could bury them. The world was going under and they still persecuted us. There wasn't a god looking out for us."

"But you survived, Roxas. That day, when you stayed behind, I thought that was the last I would ever see of you. I mourned you all the while hoping it was in vain, and it was. I was going to Denerim, but Fate had me come here instead, and here you were, Roxas. How could any of it have been possible without heavenly intervention?"

"Remember when you were the one to sulk?" Roxas said with a smile.

"Don't tell me I rid you of all hope," Lea said as jest, but feared it to be true.

"Heavenly intervention or not, I'm glad our paths crossed, Lea. I have not been myself until now."

"I know you haven't. You are still prepared for war. You will soon realize that you have been washed up on the shore."

"What?" Roxas laughed.

"I was rescued when I washed up on the shore that day. You took some time, but you are on the shore, and I have come to the rescue."

"A damsel in distress, am I?" Roxas looked back at Lea. "Is there room for me in your life now, Lea? I am the closest thing to an abomination. Your Maker will not like it."

"You are but a nug seeking shelter and my life will always have room for you, in this world and in the next."