Bury Them Deep
AN: My first canon pairing! Please be kind, but still give criticism, as long as it's constructive, and as long as you're not being rude. Enjoy!
Marian fell to her knees, clinging to the dirt she captured in her hands. The tears were fresh as they rolled down her cheeks. They left behind a trail of wetness, wiping away the grim that had built itself upon her pale skin. She wanted nothing more for them to come back, all of them.
She reached forward, with a shaky hand, and felt the rotting wood.
Leandra Hawke.
Beloved Wife and Mother.
She felt her arm give weight as her fingers traced the lettering. There were so many words that she had left unsaid, so many apologizes she had kept, and now that she sat there, they all came rumbling back to her.
All the regrets that weighed down her heart, all the burdens she had carried on her shoulders; they were never going to be gone. They'd be there as long as she lived, like a tattoo printed on her.
As the breeze blew, it caressed her cheek in a calming fashion.
She felt more tears develop in her eyes as she casted another glance to the other wooden cross.
Her fingers were lifted to it, just like before. The trembling had gotten worse and she felt sick from all the crying.
Bethany Hawke.
Beloved Daughter.
She remembered Fenris's words to her: "Magic destroys everything it touches." She spat them out like it was venom filling her throat. The swirls of magic touched her finger tips as she moved her hand to one of the last head stones.
Carver Hawke.
Beloved Son.
She choked on the sob that entered her mouth. She tried so hard to keep her family together, she tried so hard to be the daughter her father raised. She was the older sister, the older sibling, she was suppose to protect her younger siblings. She was suppose to jump in front of swords for them, feel the clang of metal entering her before she allowed her siblings to fall to the sword.
The blow never came. She waited so many times, she wanted it to happen. She wanted to feel the coppery taste fill her mouth, she wanted to feel the blade pierce her skin, but that feeling never came.
Now she sat at their graves, mourning her family, regretting ever living through the ordeal, and crying.
For the first time that evening, she wanted to leave the burial sight of her family, but her legs failed her. She dropped lower everytime until her forehead touched the soft soil. The dampness was reaching her nostrils as she sobbed. She could feel the dirt pressing into her skin, but she didn't care. She didn't care.
She wanted nothing more but to be buried with them. Sitting in the earth, collecting maggots, and seeing the Maker at her side. She wanted nothing more than to be watching down on her brother and sister as they made their journey; mourning her instead.
She wanted to see her mother's sweet smile one last time. She wanted to hear Carver complain, or hear Bethany's incantations. But mostly, she wanted to see her father again. Tell him how much he meant to her, and tell him how much she misses him. She wanted to savor the sweet taste of blood in her mouth as she bit down on her tongue. She sobbed and cried, basically throwing her own tantrum.
Screams of: "it's not fair!" and "it should've been me!" soiled the cool air with regret. She pounded her fists on the ground, on their graves, as she cried.
She could feel her body being lifted off the damp ground and onto something warm. She didn't want to open her eyes, and just hoped that the Maker enveloped her in an embrace as he lifted her into the Heavens to be with her family. She sobbed louder as she nuzzled into the warmness. She wanted to feel comfort, to forget the regret for one second.
"Shh, shh, shh," came the quiet reply to her whimpering, "my love, please don't cry." She knew that voice. It wasn't the voice of the Maker, it was the voice of her Love, her life, her soulmate: Anders. He had lifted her up into his arms and cradled her like a newborn. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear as she used the sleeve of his robe as a handkerchief. She rubbed her nose into it affectionately and let out a heart wracking sob.
He stroked her hair as he leaned his head onto hers. His chin was resting on the mound of volumized hair.
"Why them? Why did the Maker take them?" Anders kissed her forehead, seeing his love heartbroken and bleeding.
"The Maker's plans are unknown love, he does what he pleases." It didn't comfort Marian anymore than 'i don't know' would've.
"You sound like Sebastian now." She tried to laugh, but all she did was cry more. All Anders could do was sit there and comfort her with sweet caresses and little kisses. He knew what loosing someone was like, and perhaps loosing a whole family. But Hawke... She saw each one of their deaths. She was there and couldn't stop a thing, and right now; she just needed him to be there. Listening and whole.