We're Going Home

Eoin has has his more than fair share of trauma in his life, though that's not to say that there weren't good times as well. Sure he was born a city elf, struggling with the other elves in the alienage of Denerim. Sure he'd fled home when he was like ten once his magic showed to try and avoid going to the Circle, sure the Dalish had refused to take him in, but ultimately he found a good Ferelden family that was willing to take him in and care for him and help him hide his magic.

Moira.

The daughter of the people that took him in and who had basically been the light of his childhood. Why they'd never gotten together back then, was hard to say, but his luck ran out at twenty-three when he was caught by Templars. He hadn't had a chance to say goodbye, but at least they'd let him write. After that things went down hill, life at Kinloch wasn't easy and he'd grown to be very suspicious of the harrowings. He started smuggling the young children out of the Circle, with the hopes to avoid the harrowing for them. Eventually he got caught and to the prisons he went.

Unspeakable.

He didn't like talking about his time in the prisons, the scars he bore, the abuse he suffered. After the Circles fell and he'd been released, he'd opted to leave Ferelden and stayed away for quite a few years. Something called him home though, maybe it was just time, a longing that slowly surfaced, whatever it was there was only one place he wanted to go first, Moira's farm. It looked almost like he'd remembered it, though somehow it seemed smaller. He wasn't even sure if Moira was alive, let alone if she'd still be at this farm.

Hope.

He walked along the crops and headed towards the house, pausing. He suddenly felt like his feet were giant weights that he couldn't physically move. He was scared, scared she'd be there, scared she'd be disappointed in the man he'd become, then again he was also scared she wouldn't be there.

Moira had returned home earlier that morning, it was time to visit the children, who had been told that their mother was dead two years ago. It must've sucked, having one of Orzammar's royal guards show up at your front door to tell you that your mother and stepfather had died, and ask if you could take your niece. Ellis hadn't turned Elene away though, but he had eventually sent her back to Belgond Knurla, once the settlement had prospered a little bit. The child didn't deserve to live with family she barely knew.

A carriage was parked outside of the main house, and the little Elvish granddaughter was playing with her cousins, Moira's daughters' children. Half-dwarven, half-human, she was kneeling next to the youngest of her only biological daughters' kids, watching the children attempt to play a game of marbles.

'Nona, look!' A grandchild called, pointing out towards the crops, where someone was standing. Watching. Templars were no longer a threat, so it was no surprise to her that Elene and another child rushed towards the stranger, giggling and making a game of it.

Moira straightened, shielding her eyes from the sun as she peered across the farm. She couldn't quite make out who it was, squinting hard, she watched the children gather around the stranger curiously. Oftentimes people traveled to the family farm to find Moira for healing but the children quickly decided this person did not look injured, or sick.

So why was he here?

Eoin wasn't sure what to make of the people, he didn't really recognise any of them, and after he'd been imprisoned the Templars had stopped allowing any correspondence, he still had dreams about what Moira must have thought when the letters stopped coming. Did she think he was dead, did she think he'd stopped caring, so many thoughts and questions. As he walked closer he smiled non-threateningly, then noticed the older woman, there was something about her eyes, her hair, the way she stood.

He walked up closer to her, tipped his head to the right. How long had it been since he'd seen her, over forty years, but somehow he could still tell her was her. Tears welled up slightly in his eyes, but he did his best to blink them away. If he started crying he might not stop.

Moira? It was almost a whisper, he dared hope after all. Questions were flooding his brain, where had she been, what had she been doing, was she happy. Maybe this was a mistake, he had such baggage now, a weight on his shoulders that never lifted, that engulfed him at times and made it impossible to sleep. What had that one healer he'd talked to called it, PTSD. They'd offered to help, but Eoin hadn't felt comfortable enough with them to say yes.

Moira studied the man, furrowing her brow as she tried to place him. He knew her name, though that was not surprising. For many years before she'd gone to Orzammar, she'd been a very well-known healer throughout Ferelden. Well-known enough for royals in other countries to have requested her services at times. Yes? Can I help you, sir?

She'd not seen Eoin in decades, thought he must have died in the prisons. She'd never had a chance to look too hard. Down below in Orzammar, she'd had other things to deal with, a husband to support, a royal regime to throw herself into.

Child after child gathered behind their grandmother, peering around her legs, little fingers clinging to her dress. The eldest grandchild, about seventeen, was the only one who didn't rise from her spot on the ground, where she'd been playing marbles.

Seeing tears gathering in the stranger's eyes, she shooed the children towards the main house. They'd bother the guardsman she'd brought with her, not that she felt that she needed a guard. She'd never say no, though.

He didn't like to cry, it reminded him of the endless days in the prison that he'd been alone, without any company, abused by the guards. He'd cried back then, but no matter how much he'd cried it never helped. The tears couldn't set him free and eventually after so much torture and abandonment, he'd become used to his situation, at times even believed her deserved it, after all that was what the guards wanted, to make him regret helping the children, regret going against the Chantry and the Templars.

He took a few deep breaths. Of course she didn't recognise him, perhaps if he'd just met her randomly in the street somewhere he might not have recognised her, but they were at her farm, and those eyes, there was no one else she could be.

He blinked his tears away and tried to keep them at bay.

Moira, it's me. Eoin... I came here, I don't know why really. I didn't expect to find you here, but I wanted to see something, something that might give me some hope... Maybe this was a mistake, what if she didn't want him walking back into her life, what if she'd given up on him and wanted to keep it that way. So many what ifs.

Moira stared, for a moment or two longer than needed. And then she grinned, Eoin! I thought you were dead. She shook her head, probably not the best thing in the world to say. But it'd been the first thing to come to mind. She wasn't sure whether to hug him or not, it'd been so long. So, instead, she offered him a seat on the porch.

You'll have to tell me all that's happened to you, old friend. She did not relish telling him about herself; her first husband, that he had known, dead. Her second husband, dead. Her third, dead. Widower three times over.

She moved to take a seat, stepping over children as she went. You're always welcome here, Eoin. Though the kids run this place now.

There was a part of Eoin that just wanted to wrap Moira up in a hug and pretend like the last forty or so years hadn't ever happened, but they had happened, and forty or so years was a very long time to go without seeing someone that believed them to be dead. He nodded and smiled warmly, fuck she looked good. He sat down on the porch, actually quite relived to be sitting as he'd been travelling from Antiva to get to Moira's farm.

Nope, not dead.... Words, there were more words in his head than he was saying, but they were hard words, and this was a happy reunion. He didn't want to think about all that he'd endured at the hands of the Templars, especially the fact that the isolation had been the most torturous of all. His mind raced slightly, what could he tell her, he had to tell her something, but so much of it was so difficult to recount. She mentioned having kids and his mind felt even sadder, she'd had an entire life, a good life it seemed, he didn't want to turn today sad, he wanted today to be happy, that and he just wasn't ready to talk about the bad things.

Well, I got out when the Circles fell. I honestly thought about seeking you out back then, and I'm sorry I didn't but, the situation with the mages was so chaotic, especially with the rogue templars, I travelled quite a bit, trying to help fellow mages where I could. Never staying long, never stopping, never letting go of his pain no matter how much time passed. He smiled again, enough about him.

Enough about me, what have you been up to. You said the kids are running the farm now so what does that mean for you?

Moira listened, shaking her head at his apology. Ah, you wouldn't have been able to find me, back then. My husband and I were underground, in Orzammar. She smiled warmly as she thought of Bhelen, leaning back in her chair. She shook her head at herself, Sorry, sorry, jumped ahead a few decades.

She paused to swipe marbles from the eldest grandkid, shaking them at one of the youngers who were snooping on the conversation. Well, after Thomas died, and you were gone, I met a sweet man. Dwarf. We had Natayie, adopted Ellis. Those are the two who run the farm. She hummed as she offered the marbles to the child, sending it off to play.

Eventually my second husband died. I was given two dwarven children to watch over, for a few years. Then when the boys went home to Orzammar, I joined them. Married their father when the eldest was about seven or eight, I believe. She hummed, studying the sky.

Bhelen died getting everyone out of Orzammar, though. She sighed, as if that information was more disheartening than heartbreaking. As for me, I live over in Belond Knurla with my boys, helping them piece the nation back together. Elene and I just come out to visit the farm every-so-often.

Elene offered a wave as her name was mentioned. She was pestering their guardsman, who was standing silently a few feet behind of Moira's chair.

It felt so good to get lost in hearing about Moira's life, though he imagined the losses hadn't been easy, she definitely had led a full life that included a very large family to keep her busy. He felt a bit pathetic compared to her, even if it hadn't been his fault he'd had the life he'd had. He had had feelings for someone once while at Kinloch, before his imprisonment, but she'd been tranquilled and that sort of ended that, she'd lost all interest in him, in everything really, once she lost her feelings.

You definitely take after your parents, your children are lucky to have you! He really enjoyed hearing about her life, at least for a moment it made his feel less disastrous. Belgond Knurla? I know I've been out of Ferelden for awhile, but I don't recognise that name. He tipped his head curiously, a new town perhaps, but whose and why.

Ah, Orzammar was overrun by darkspawn. My husband, King Bhelen, would have adored seeing his sons bring the dwarves aboveground successfully. It was a dream of his, to integrate surface society into the dwarvens society. She was passionate about her late husband's dream, it was something they'd shared and worked together on.

And even though it had not happened how they'd thought and hoped, it had happened. And she was still here, mitigating with her sons.

Dwarves above ground, Eoin didn't know too terribly much about Dwarves, but he did understand what it meant for the dwarves of Orzammar to be living on the surface and he was rather shocked about it all. So Belgond Knurla must be the name they call their surface settlement. He'd heard though his travels that Anderfels had been overrun by the darkspawn, but then what would Thedas be if something wasn't falling apart or blowing up.

I can't imagine, for an entire people to be displaced from their home. I'm sure his sons must be happy to have you, you've always had a strong and nurturing presence, even when you were little. So I take it you uh.... managed to avoid the circles? Did he want to talk about the Circles, fuck no, but he was too curious to know if she'd ever ended up in one for any amount of time.

Moira shook her head. Circles never got their claws into me. Templars did kill my eldest son, though. Thomas' death was so long ago that it hardly felt like reality, more like history. Worked with the Inquisition for a bit, but prior to that the King of Ferelden kept me pretty safe. He almost paid me to stay above and work for his kingdom, actually.

Byron had been upset to learn from his people that their healer they trusted had gone underground. He'd replaced her, eventually. But it had taken time to earn the people's trust and find a replacement that they'd accept.

As for my boys, they're sweet. Garryn is a good king. Young, he's making a few.. choice decisions with body parts that aren't his brain, but... everyone's got to go through that phase where their hormones rule their bodies. She chuckled wryly.

So, you escaped the Circles? How were you treated? When your letters stopped, well, I just assumed you'd died.

Eoin winced, noticeably, at the news that they had killed her eldest son Thomas, that hit really close to home, to the things that he had witnessed in the Circles. He was happy that Thomas's loss was the only way the Circles had effected her, she was lucky really, even though it didn't belittle the loss of a child either. It seemed Moira had known a couple of kings in her life, King of Orzammar, King of Ferelden, he was rather impressed.

Eoin laughed at the part about Garryn thinking with his dick, he could relate, he'd done his fair share of thinking that way. Not always something he was proud of, but then with the emotional trauma he'd endured, sometimes thinking with his dick was just less stressful than thinking with his head.

The topic switched back to him, he didn't want to lie but he didn't want to talk about it either. His face grew a bit dark, his eyes cast downwards.

It was easy in the chaos after the circles fell. I was glad to be rid of the place. I'm sorry I stopped writing, the templars thought I was too happy, looked forward to them too much, they decided I wouldn't learn my lesson if I had letters from home that made me happy. He tried to be vague, tried not to get into all the things. He didn't like talking about the things, didn't like remembering. Fuck he could really use a drink about now.

Moira made a noise, at the news that the Templars had decided he was simply too happy receiving letters from home. Templars used to be so high and mighty... Look at them now, useless, groveling. She mused, staring past Eoin. He didn't look like the boy she'd so desperately loved. He didn't sound like she remembered.

And whatever love had once been there was no longer there; it'd been too long, certainly. She shook her head, brown eyes studying the man in front of her. Ah, it's been too long. We shouldn't focus on the past.

The woman moved to stand, as her guardsman stepped forward. "You have a meeting with the Princess of Orlais, Your Royal Highness. And another with the Royal Franziska, of Antiva. We should really prepare to leave."

Moira waved him away, as she turned to hug the grandchildren, all of the younger ones piling around her legs, catching Natayie watching from the doorway to the farmhouse. Get Eoin set up with a room, Naty? He grew up here, it's his home too. Her daughter waved a hand in agreement.

"Next time you come home, ma, will you bring some lyrium? We're getting lots of ex-Templars and lyrium addicts comin' on through. They're dying from withdrawal. I know it isn't easy to get, but I thought maybe..."

Yeah, I'll see what we've got. It hurt her to help ex-Templars; but it hurt even worse to watch those people suffer and waste away. Moira turned to flash a smile to Eoin, The family'll get you set up, I'll come visit in a few weeks. It wasn't a promise; she couldn't promise that she'd be back by the farm in a few weeks. It depended on how things were with the political nature of the dwarves.

It was true, Templars were scrambling ever since the veil was torn, what were they supposed to do when they no longer had the edge over mages, when every single mage everywhere had either a demon or spirit possessing them. He imagined there were some former templars that would love to see every single mage 'annulled'. He nodded and smiled warmly at her bringing up that the past was too long ago, and that they should focus on the present, he couldn't agree more, now if only he could stop having nightmares about the past.

He tried not to show that he was disappointed when her guardsman stepped in and reminded her of her appointments, after over forty years apart, it just felt like they'd barely talked. It was good to see her though, good to see how her life had gone, what a life she'd built for herself. He'd always imagined he'd want kids, but life in the Circle had changed that, though he had come to think of the younger mages as kids in a way, they'd certainly needed parental figures that weren't the templars.

He was a bit surprised when she offered to put him up, or well, maybe surprised for a second before remembering who he was speaking to. She just really wasn't the sort to turn someone away, especially an old friend. For a moment he wasn't sure if he should accept, like he didn't deserve to be content or happy after going through everything he'd gone through, but there was also something telling him that he couldn't turn down Moira's offer.

That's so kind of you, I'll definitely take you up on the offer. It all felt bittersweet, perhaps even too good to be true, but he couldn't help but feel the change would be good for him, to be settled for a bit, not moving around every other week. It felt surreal sort of, seeing her again, after having spent decades imagining what that moment would be like. He felt like he'd failed her in away, like it was his fault that he was no longer the young man she'd remembered, that the templars had beaten him down, it was what it was, he couldn't exactly change that.

I look forward to seeing you again. He thought about asking for a tour of Belgond Knurla, but at the moment he was just focused on being back at the farm, back with friends, even if her kids didn't know him.