Marian

Marian Hawke was tired. She was tired of running. She was tired of hiding. She was tired of being alone. She was tired of the guilt and the pain and the desperation. It had been nearly three months since Isabela anchored her ship in a small cove halfway between Highever and Amaranthine and dropped her off. Three months of camping in caves along the coast. Three months of having nowhere to go. Three months of having no one to talk to.

She knew that Varric had gone back to Kirkwall. Aveline and Donnic, too. Sebastian left for Starkhaven, with Fenris at his side. And Merrill and Isabela were headed for Llomerynn. Or maybe Antiva City. Or Treviso. Isabela was being indecisive when she dropped Marian off in Ferelden.

Her merry band of misfits, the only family she had left, scattered across Thedas.

Except for Anders. Who was dead.

And now she was holed up in yet another cave, with a sprained ankle, feeling sorry for herself.

"All I need is a bottle of Aggregio, and I can have myself a full blown pity party."

She jerked her head up and looked around the empty cave. Then snorted a laugh. "And now you're talking to yourself. Fantastic, Hawke. Well done."

If she'd been alone for three months, that meant it had been seven months since Anders blew up the Chantry. Since Justice blew up the Chantry, she corrected herself. Seven months since Sebastian demanded revenge. Seven months since she felt Anders's life seep out of his body, between her fingers. She felt hot angry tears prickle at her eyes. Not again, Marian. You're done crying over that man, remember? She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and sighed.

"Watch your step!"

The whispered words echoed in the cave, likely louder than they were intended. Marian reacted on instinct, standing quickly and drawing her bow. She hissed at the sharp pain in her ankle and held her breath. When she heard the telltale sounds of her traps being disarmed, she cursed under her breath then shouted at the intruder.

"Not a step further! Or you'll be breathing out of a hole in your chest!"

"An interesting threat, my lady. Did you realize that you're camping at the darkspawn's front door?"

The intruder turned out to be four. She quickly scanned the group, considering her options. A warrior in front, sword and shield drawn. Two mages behind him, staffs glittering with magic. And an archer in the shadows. Fighting would definitely not be an option. Even if she wasn't outnumbered, cornered, and injured, she'd never have a chance against the mages. But they didn't need to know that. Marian Hawke didn't give up that easily.

"I haven't seen any darkspawn, serah," she replied, keeping her voice level.

The warrior, clearly the leader of the group tilted his head to one side.

"None? Then you're lucky. Nasty little buggers." He smirked. But the levity of his response didn't match the fact that he hadn't lowered his weapon. Well, she thought, two can play that game.

"They are. I've fought a few myself. But there are none here." She matched his smirk with a grin of her own then added, "Now that we've established that, could you kindly remove yourself from my camp?"

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "And if I say no?"

She sighed. No. She was too bloody tired. Maybe it was time. Maybe Marian Hawke did give up after all. And maybe Sebastian would be happy to know she died defending his precious bow.

"The only thing valuable I have is this bow. If you want it, you'll have to kill me. And I'll take at least one of you with me." The bow was already pointed at him, but she shifted her aim, just a hair, to let him know she was serious.

"Wait," he said, lowering his sword an inch or two, "you think we're common thieves?" She heard a small cough from the back of the group, probably the archer she couldn't see.

"Who besides thieves poke around in caves in the middle of the night?" She shrugged one shoulder.

"Is that what you're doing here then? Thieving as well?" He was grinning again.

She rolled her eyes and dropped her bow to her side. I can't even make my suicide-by-bandits a simple task.

"Yes," she drawled. "I am camped out here with a busted ankle, waiting for the darkspawn to come, so I can steal their armor."

"Ah, I see. Well, I suppose we can leave you to it, then." He dropped his sword and shrugged. She watched warily as his companions withdrew their weapons as well. "Or we could give you a hand," he added, gesturing to the taller of the two mages behind him, "Charlie here's a decent healer."

Marian froze, thoroughly confused by change in demeanor and by the offer. "Who are you?"

"Ah!" He said, stepping forward and offering his hand, "The name's Aedan. Grey Wardens, at your service."

She blinked at his hand then looked back up at him. "Grey Wardens?"

"Last I checked, yes. But don't worry. The taint's not contagious." He glanced down at his hand with a small frown. "Not like that anyway." She heard the small cough again, clearly a choked back laugh. And then she realized he was referencing his hand, still hanging in the space between them.

She reached out to shake his hand and regarded the group behind him again. And she finally got a look at the archer whose face was no longer hidden in darkness. She knew him. Howe. Nathaniel Howe. He met her eyes, but his face showed no sign of recognition.

"Carver," she said. When Aedan arched his eyebrow, she added, "My friends call me Carver. It's a long story." Maker Marian, you really are losing your touch. You used to be a better liar.

"So, Lady Carver," Aedan grinned at her again. "Healing or no healing?"

"Uh, healing would be great. Fantastic, really. Thank you." She shook her head in disbelief as the tall mage stepped forward and gestured for her to sit back down. When she did, he knelt next to her.

Now that he was close enough for her to see, she saw that he was young. Younger than her. And when he smiled at her, she saw a chipped tooth. He worked quickly, the cooling wave of healing magic washing away the pain in her ankle as well as the dull ache in her neck and shoulders that she had nearly forgotten about. He wordlessly helped her back to her feet and returned to his spot behind Aedan.

"Better?" Aedan asked. And when she nodded, he said, "Now, Lady Carver, I'm going to…firmly advise…you to come with us." He held his hand up to forestall any arguments. "It's not as safe here as you believe. You really are camped out at an entrance to the Deep Roads. And we mean you no harm, I swear it."

Marian narrowed her eyes. But she knew she didn't have much of a choice. And she didn't like the idea of waking up to darkspawn. And she was tired. She sighed in resignation and said, "Fine. Let me get my things."

She quickly fastened her cloak around her neck, grabbed her pack and strapped the bow to her back, and waved a hand towards to mouth of the cave. "Lead on."

Marian followed the Aedan and the two mages out of the cave. Nathaniel paused to let her pass and take up a position at the back. And now I feel like a prisoner, she thought bitterly. But when she brushed past him, he whispered, "You'll come to no harm under our watch, Hawke."

So he did recognize her.