|Sexual Orientation||Heterosexual / widowed|
|Residence||Hovel in Lowtown, Kirkwall|
|Gear||A few dresses, a pair of shoes, and a stubborn streak.|
|Behind the Mask|
Leandra loved her husband so much that she eloped with him, in spite of the disappointment it caused her family. The Amells already had magic in their blood, and Leandra fell in love with an Apostate by name of Hawke. She gladly left behind a life of ease and nobility for dust, flight, and love. Although far from having the romantic gloss it had when she first started out, it was a choice she never once regretted. Their life was never an easy one, but she was never truly unhappy. Even when they had children and were constantly forced to move from place to place and avoid the templars she would not have traded it for her old life in the Amell estate.
Their first son, Garret, inherited his father’s magic, but Leandra loved Garret more than life itself. She still does, although she loved Carver and Bethany just as much. There is no limitation or boundaries to the love in a mother’s heart for her children.
She still mourns the loss of her husband, but nothing can compare to the anguish she feels for murder of her beautiful baby girl, Bethany. Killed by an ogre in their flight away from Lothering and the Blight, it has left a hole in Leandra’s heart which will never heal. Some things you cannot heal, but you must learn to live with. She’s thrown herself into looking after her remaining sons, and worries about them constantly now that they’re forced to work in servitude for a year just to get into the gates of a home which they’d all thought would be a welcome sanctuary from the Blight.
Instead of a homecoming she had imagined, they were fortunate to be crammed into a shabby hovel with Leandra’s brother, Gamlen. Determined to make the best of it for the sake of her children, she tries to keep peace within her family and pet Mabari, Whuff.
Although they might be full grown men, Leandra still sometime sees Garret and Carver as being thigh high and clinging to her skirts with chubby fists as she whisked around the kitchen, cooking and humming. To a mother, they never really grow up, no matter how old they are, although she does respect they are adults who can make their own decisions, too.