AN: Or a mangled version of the Edgar Allan Poe Toaster. Dragon Age series and all its known characters belong to Bioware.
On a celebratory note, happy Independence Day to my fellow countrymen! Enjoy the long weekend, everyone...
The armed guards made Bethany feel like a criminal, and she resented it. If they really had it their way, they'd have carted her out of the cell in manacles. She almost wished that she'd never get anymore visitors just so she wouldn't sense the Templars' cautious stares needling her backside as if she was about to do mischief anytime.
But all those dark thoughts fell away the moment she clapped eyes on a familiar figure standing expectantly at the waiting area.
"Sister!" she said, rushing over with a smile.
Marian's stormy expression changed, and she herself broke into a huge grin as she held out her arms.
They embraced; tightly, fiercely, each trying to convey their feelings to the other. Marian hadn't seen her sister for almost two months, and it was two months too long in her books.
"Maker, how I've missed you!" Bethany whispered onto Marian's shoulder.
"I know," said Marian, stroking the younger woman's back. "Sorry, Beth. Work and all that. I'd have come sooner, but-"
"What's important is you're here now," said Bethany.
Marian finally released her sister, holding her at arms' length and scrutinizing her person. "So, how are you? Really? You've lost weight! Did those bastard Templars do anything to you?" she asked, sharply raising her voice so that the guards standing to attention by the door could hear.
Bethany laughed. "Try teaching a group of boisterous children magic and you'll find yourself tearing your hairs out by the end of the week!"
"That tough, eh? Remind me to not have children, then."
"And let the Hawkes die off completely? Never! Mother wouldn't hear any of that!"
"Fine, then I'll abandon my career for the sake of plucking the fruits of my loins. How about that?"
Their combined laughters bounced off the austere walls of the waiting area.
"Come," said Bethany, tugging Marian's arm. "I believe the outdoors are a far more palatable atmosphere than the ones we're having within."
"You mean, there're lesser pompous pricks out there compared to here?" Marian said brightly as she hefted up her pack and followed Bethany through another side exit.
"Sadly, that's not the case."
The gardens were just as Marian had remembered from the last time she was here: sparse, dull, caged in. Her eyes involuntarily travelled up to the forbidding walls enclosing the area. Nothing that couldn't be easily traversed with the help of crampons and a rope hook…but she couldn't help but wonder what other unpleasant surprises they'd find once they've reached the top. There's always the sewer route – a classic, albeit smelly exit. Maybe it's time she picked Anders' brain for the five best ways to escape a Circle alive.
"So what have you brought me?" Bethany asked, breaking her chain of thought as she brought them to a shady patch beneath a blossoming orange tree and sat down on the grass, motioning for Marian to do the same.
"Many things, actually," said Marian, swinging her pack to the ground and settling herself beside it. Her fingers began undoing its leather clasps and threw the cover open for Bethany to see. The younger woman's face instantly brightened up.
"That's-"
"Lemon cake from Orana," Marian announced proudly, taking it out and handing it over the Bethany. "Sorry about that missing slice. Apparently the guards think I'm going to smuggle a set of keys inside, so they've taken it upon themselves to taste test," she said, wrinkling her nose in annoyance.
"It's lovely! Give her my thanks!"
Marian went on pulling out items from her pack. "You've got letters from Varric, a lace hanky from Bodahn and Sandal, strawberries and a bouquet from Merrill – they're a bit squashed, no thanks to the arsewipe who pawed through them. I swear they're about to order a strip search on me at the gates if I hadn't given them one of my best glares! Having them go through my things is already bad enough as it is!"
Bethany looked, and sure enough: Varric's letters had been unsealed and the envelope unceremoniously torn open. Templars probably thought they were secret spells, or escape plans written in clandestine code. Her lips tightened into a thin line.
"I got you a brooch set, with real diamonds and everything…but it got confiscated. Tch!" Marian grumbled darkly. "They said they'll return it to you once they're done screening it for enchantments. Let me know if they break their promise, will you? I've got a bone to pick on Meredith about the way she has her people treat Circle visitors."
"Just leave it be, sister," said Bethany, holding her gifts close to her as if they were the greatest treasures on earth. "I'm just very glad that you came."
Marian's murderous looks disappeared instantly, and she treated Bethany with a grateful smile. "As am I."
"So what news have you of the outside world?" Bethany asked, lovingly spreading her new hanky over her lap. Ink-stained fingers brushed over the small embroidery in one corner: a cursive BH done in golden thread.
"Same old, same old. Gamlen sends his love…if you can believe it. He does come and visit every now and then…doesn't he?"
"Frankly, I'd rather that he never comes anymore. All he does is complain and reminisce about Mother."
"That's his favourite pastime. It's a given. Anyway, I've got something else to discuss with you," said Marian, scooting herself closer until she bumped knees with Bethany. She leaned forth and dropped her voice into a conspiratory whisper. "I've finally figured out the security systems around the phylactery room, and with some fake documents, I think I can-"
"No."
Marian stuttered to a stop, clearly fazed by the palm held up firmly before her. Her gaze flickered up to Bethany's face. "No?" she echoed.
"I don't want you to do this."
Marian's mouth worked itself to form a coherant sentence, but when she couldn't, she got angry instead. All those months, years of reconnaissance, and now Bethany says 'no'? How dare her!
"Why?" she finally managed.
Bethany hastily lowered her hand and looked away, guilt evident on her features. "I…am happy here. For once I am with people who are like me and aren't afraid of what I am. I can't say the same once I'm out there. Don't you understand, sister?"
"No," said Marian, voice strangling with rage. "No, Bethany…I don't. Are you saying that after all these bending, scraping and just plain banging my head against the bloody wall trying to find a way out for you, you just conveniently tell me that you're not up for it anymore? Is that what you're really saying? Huh?"
"I understand that you're angry-"
"Oh, 'angry' just wouldn't cut the mustard anymore. D'you have any idea how many gormy bastards I had to wade through just to get those plans? You don't, do you? You don't understand, Bethany. They've…they've brainwashed you into thinking that this is it…this is the best option for you ever. Why are you letting a group of self-righteous tincans dictate how you should lead your life? No, I cannot accept this. I will not!"
"Sister," said Bethany, reaching out placatingly, but Marian slapped her hands away and began to gather up her pack. "You're not leaving now, are you?"
"I don't see any reason for me to stay!" Marian snapped back, tugging at the leather drawstrings with such vehemence that it almost broke.
"Please, just listen to me!" Bethany said, loud enough to attract the attention of a Templar nearby. Beneath his suspicious gaze, Marian visibly subsided, although she still maintained her thunderous expression.
"It's time you did something for yourself," Bethany went on in much quieter tones. "You need to stop thinking that I need rescuing all the time. I'm fine here. I really am. I've made friends, and Orsino respects me - although I think it's partly because you're my sister – but this is the life I've grown comfortable with."
"Father wouldn't want this on you."
"I know. But he's dead, and I'm not. I'd rather keep it that way."
Marian opened her mouth to press her point further, but suddenly stopped herself. It was no use. Bethany had clearly changed from her time here. Arguing with her now was like arguing with Carver, in the sense that Marian got that inexplicable urge to box the younger woman's ears for being a mouthy brat.
"You're right," she finally said with an irritated sigh. "You're all grown up now, so you obviously know what's best. I shouldn't interfere anymore."
Bethany had the grace to look surprised. "That's it? You're not going to fight me out of it?"
"Be wasting my time if I did. Why? You're expecting one?"
"If it's you, of course! This has to be some sort of trick. I'm warning you: if you're thinking of an underhanded tactic to win later, then don't bother."
"Bethany," said Marian wearily. "My work's done here. Am I unhappy with your choice? Yes, yes I am. This is Father's crusade you're asking me to give up-"
"You're right," said Bethany in steely tones. "It had been, and will forever be Father's. You need to go start your own."
Marian treated Bethany with a stare that went far longer than it was comfortable, causing the younger woman to fidget and snap defiantly: "What?"
"Where's that sweet Bethany who always followed me around and listened to whatever I said?"
"We were children! Besides, you know I did that to escape Carver's bullying!"
"Ahh…the halcyon days of youth indeed," said Marian in tones laced with sticky tendrils of irony.
"Halcyon? Isn't that the…you know…the six-sided shape?"
"You mean…hexagon? No, no…that has a completely different meaning."
"Or is it seven?"
"That would be octagon."
"No, you silly. It's heptagon. Tch, trust rogues to get things wrong."
The sisters began ganging up on each other, debating the points that yes, heptagon is seven-sided, mages have a propensity for idiot moments too and halcyon was actually a type of bird. A brown tit, if Marian remembered her ornithology accurately.
All in all, Marian thought as she watched Bethany's flushed face arguing back at her, it had been a good afternoon. At the very least she'd got her sister to forget that landmine topic concerning her freedom. It was a terrible moment when Marian realized this could be the last time she'd ever see Bethany again. It wouldn't do for them to part on bad terms now.
Before she left, Marian hugged Bethany in an exceptionally fierce manner, alarming younger woman. She'd questioned this, but Marian brushed it off with her usual flippant manner. Marian would do anything to hide the lingering regret in her eyes.
Back home, Marian carefully measured out a precise amount of wine inside her glass. She set down the bottle with an almost reverential air, making sure she'd corked it again. It was the special wine to her, one that had been a housewarming gift from ages ago. She'd valued as if it were ambrosia from the gods, and she'd die before she sees it being used for anything other than a special occasion. Tonight was one such occasion. It was the time when she celebrated Fenris's funeral.
Not in a literal sense, of course. It was more of her symbolic burial of her feelings towards him. It's been almost four days since that stupid elf walked out on her, and she wasn't sure if he'd ever come back. It'd be too high of a hope, and Maker knows she'd already tacked one hope too many on him. It's about time she stopped clinging to dreams and let go of him for real this time.
It was at the corner of her garden where she performed her final rites, amongst the sweet blossoms of Bodahn's roses and the wonderful view overlooking Lowtown and the sea. She'd buried a box of mementoes from him: the awkward love letters he gave her when he first learned to write, some spare copper change, the fading label of an Aggregio, an interesting feather bookmark and for some strange reason: a tiny rat skull. Taking three of Bodahn's fat roses, she pressed them onto the 'grave' and lovingly arranged its velvety petals for a more visually appealing look.
Finally satisfied, she sat back on her heels, raised her glass and said:
"Here's to you, Fenris…you bloody bastard and jolly well my first love. You think of me as an idiot, yet I think of you as a man I'd never really want to leave. I pray that the Maker will overlook those times when you whispered filthy things in Arcanum during Elthina's Sunday mass. Rest in peace."
She drank down the wine in one go. Wiping her chin with one hand, she sighed and wondered if she'd made a complete fool out of herself. The sudden rumblings of a familiar voice made her yelp and jump to her feet.
"A stirring eulogy. I'm glad I'm actually around to hear it. Most people never get that chance."
"Fenris! You startled me!" she huffed, clutching at her chest.
"I can see you are holding my funeral," the elf said wryly, stepping out of the shadows. "But I feel I should point out one small detail…?" He gestured to himself.
"It's supposed to be metaphorical!" she snapped. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
"I came to give you your wedding gift."
"What? Oh, Maker…please tell me it's not a hideous fruit salad platter. I've had enough of those!"
He chuckled, a comforting sound she's been missing all the while. "Actually…no. I didn't bring anything. Couldn't think of what to get you."
"Obviously you're the last person to know. The engagement's off," she said, feeling the buzz of alcohol in her ears. Dratsville, she'd always known she was a lightweight, but not this lightweight. If this was an ongoing gag, then she'd much prefer it to happen to someone else.
Fenris raised a brow. "Why not?"
"Oh, stop hiding your stupid dance of joy! You saw this coming a mile away. You – you've engineered my downfall! Anyway, I didn't do it because of you. I've my own reasons…"
"I see." He watched her carefully, waiting for further explanations. When she offered none, he lowered his gaze as if to measure his next words before meeting her eyes again. "I should apologize to you for leaving…twice, in fact. It is a folly I will come to regret for the rest of my life."
"Well it wouldn't be a folly if you had a bit of sense inside that thick head of yours," she said, waving the empty glass towards him accusingly.
He spread his arms wide, as if allowing that barb to hit him. "I deserve that. I deserve all the hate you have towards me. When I left, I've been thinking about what you said and did for me…and needless to say I got angry."
"Hmph, no major discovery there," she muttered, setting down the glass and turning around to watch the breathtaking vista of Lowtown. It wasn't a scene worthy of a postcard, but anywhere was better than having to look at his face.
"Let me finish, Marian," he said in steely tones. "But then I started to really think about you…how you talk, how you look, how I felt…well, it all came back to me in a rush, and that made me realize something…"
Marian said nothing, did nothing to encourage his end of the conversation. She knew he was going to say his piece regardless of her response.
"I can't make you happy. I can't offer you half of what Sebastian has given to you. I can barely control my feelings and I'll end up hurting you in the long run. But I…I think I…no, I know I…oh, blast this!" he snarled, subsiding into a string of Arcanum curses.
Marian waited for the storm to blow over before saying: "That's either an insult, or you've just called me a green ferret. Which one is it? They're the same, aren't they? Oh!"
Fenris had strode over and yanked her around, placing both hands firmly on her shoulders. "I love you, Marian," he growled, his voice rough from emotion. "I'd willingly walk through the Fade and rescue you from the depths of the Void just to have you once more for one night. The memories of you burn brighter than these cursed markings, so much so that I'd brand myself with them if I could. I love you, and yes – I'd be honoured if you would bear my son…although I still maintain that I did not write that bloody poem. I love you, but I can no longer have you. You are my soul, and I've been such a fool for not realizing that sooner."
Marian stared at him, open-mouthed. Of all the times to give his heartfelt confession! Somewhere in the dusty corners of her mind, she'd been dreaming and dreading this moment at once. Dreaming that it'd happen and dreading that it'd come too late. Why, oh why must they come true now?
"You can always tattoo them, you know," she babbled. "Sebastian only has to add an N to his and it'll be a lovely surprise."
Fenris frowned, unsure of what he just heard. "What?"
"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "Private joke. Just ignore it."
"Marian, have you been listening to what I just said?"
"Yes, yes I have. You've very clearly stated your point. I get that. I…I'm…this is surreal. Either I'm dreaming or that wine is stronger than I think."
He gave her a rather roguish grin. "If this is a dream, then it wouldn't matter if I kissed you, right?"
That prompted her jolt back to reality. "Kiss me? Kiss me? This is supposed to be your funeral, Fenris! I'm supposed to bury you!" she exclaimed, wrenching his hands away from her. "I'm not about to have one last fling just because it's…it's convenient! You shouldn't even be here!"
"Shall I leave, then?" he asked, quietly.
"Yes! NO! I mean…no! It wouldn't do to have the corpse get up and walk away before the final rites were done." She stopped, watching the mental image and began to giggle.
"Marian, I'm truly sorry. If it'd take an entire lifetime of apologies for you to forgive me, then I'd do it."
"Don't," she said. "Don't be sorry. Feel happy for me instead. For all our bickering and name-calling, you're still my best friend, Fenris. That will never change no matter what."
"I am happy for you."
She sagged, feeling drained all of a sudden. "Fenris, you-" Her hands waved about vaguely as she struggled to find the right words. She finally resorted to punching him hard in the arm instead.
"Augh! What the hells was that for?!"
"You have such lousy timing, you know that?" she fumed, suddenly angry. "You come and go as you please, we…we had sex when you wanted it, and you always want to have the last word. Everything has to happen on your terms. You - with your serious control issues. I honestly doubt there is a single woman, human or no, who'd be able to put up with you for long. Well, maybe Orana…or some other character with similar mousy countenance-"
"I'm not interested in other women!" Fenris countered irritably.
"Well, that's your problem then," she snapped. "I'm not about to go on some cockamamie sidequest to matchmake you just because you're allergic to Feelings! You know, I once threatened a kitten to make Anders get along with you. A kitten!" She huffed, trying to rein in her temper, and finally muttered: "Goodness knows I hate that."
"You can't be serious."
"He said that the next time he sets your arse on fire, he'll be sure to say 'please' first." She snorted at the absurdity of the idea. Turning away from him, she trudged over to a nearby stone bench and settled herself heavily on it.
"Well?" she went on. "You're here. I'm here. What're we going to do?"
Fenris considered his options. On one hand, he was still smarting from her tongue lashing, but that was just his ego talking. He'd asked for it, he really did. Wearing the past like a thorny badge had pushed Marian further away than he'd imagined. He could leave, again…but what would that achieve? He'd come back to her eventually. It was hopeless. He and Marian were both hopeless.
"What do we do when we're together?" he finally asked, stooping down to pick up the wine and then strolling over to join her at the bench. He unstoppered the bottle with a pop, took a long swig, and made a face. "We talk."
"About what?"
"For starters," he drew out slowly, as if prolonging the thought. "I've given up interior decorating."
There was a gasp of surprise from Marian. "What?! I didn't know you've got hobbies!"
"It was all a mess, really. Too many difficult decisions to make," he said, keeping his tones light to indicate that he wasn't being serious. "I mean, I actually liked the bloodspattered wallpapers. It adds character, a certain…warrior chic."
Marian chuckled. "And then what happened?"
"I couldn't bring myself to rearrange anything. I like the place as it is. I mean, I know it's all mine and I can do whatever I like with it." Fenris paused, his eyes taking on a nostalgic mist, "But I touch a chair, and remember you sitting on it. I look at the cracked balustrade – you know, the one at the main staircase? – and see you chopping the head off a Shade only to slip and miss. And that locked trunk inside the spare bedroom. You spent days trying to crack it, and refused when I offered to open it for you."
"Break it, you mean. It was a Hostlers' five-tumbler with pressure-triggered counterlock. A classic. They don't make them anymore, and that man was known for his impossible locks. I like a good challenge, and maybe I'm good enough to try it again. I'm betting the traps have reset itself by now…?"
Fenris leaned closer, bumping a shoulder with hers. It was a move he'd picked up from her; but coming from him, it was awkward, unpracticed. "You'd have to see it for yourself."
Marian studied his familiar smile, his hopeful gaze, and looked away with a sigh. "Fenris, what are you saying?"
The shifting of air beside her indicated that he'd moved himself back. "That I'm a sentimental idiot."
"Hah, that goes without saying. Listen: I don't care what you do you're your house, but maybe a healthy change is good for you. Tear the whole damned place down, build something new! Then we'll make more memories…better than the last! You know I'm always around whenever you need me. "
"Are you really? Don't make promises you can't keep."
"Have I ever done that? With you? With our friends? Come on…you know better than to ask me that."
"That is…correct. My apologies."
Marian sighed, looking up to the skies. "When did all of this go to shit?"
"When I left that night."
"You saying that you wish you hadn't?"
"No, even if I could relive that moment many times over, I'd still leave."
"Oh. Well, that's comforting."
"But I'd come back, sooner than you can imagine. I'd barely cleared the door before I'd run back to you, on the bed, and swear I'd never leave ever again. And it could go many ways from there, just like it could from here on out."
"You know, that actually sounds romantic. Coming from you, that is."
"What can I say? I'm crazy about you. I still am."
He touched her chin and turned her face towards him just as she was about to protest. The look in his eyes silenced her. They were roaming over her features as if he was making a mental image to burn inside his eyelids. He smiled, and brought their foreheads together. When he spoke next, it was in the slow, flowing lilt of someone reciting a poem: "I will always think of you whenever I see someone reading a book, whenever someone screams hysterically, whenever someone laughs while in pain, or in pain while laughing. I will always think of you, Marian."
She said nothing. There really was nothing to say at times like these.
"Will you think of me too?"
She cried instead.
She wasn't a pretty crier. She's no classical movie star with smudgeproof mascara. The waterworks began like a burst pipe, and her face was a splotch of red like a Mars continent. Yet Fenris silently watched, making no effort whatsoever to brush away her tears. No words were necessary at this time. How can you describe the true magnitude of human suffering in just one sentence? Or one paragraph? He understood that, and he remained a silent yet assuring presence as he held her.
She hated this. She hated amputating her emotions when she was still clearly attached to it. How can she have everything and lose everything at the same time? She'd slain countless demons, yet she couldn't exorcize the ones living in her memories.
Her sobs finally wound down to hiccups. She sniffled, the watery smile on her face a sign that she was picking the pieces of her former self.
"This is embarrassing," she said, trying to chuckle.
"Don't be."
"You're the third person ever to see me like this…so consider it an honour."
She sighed, leaning against him. They said nothing else after that, simply staring at the view and revelling in each other's comforting presence. He sat with her in her room afterwards, watching her as she slept. He savoured these final intimate moments with her like a dying man, but when he saw the first signs of daybreak, he reluctantly let go of her hand and allowed one last kiss on her lips before stealing out without so much as a backwards glance.
Episode the next: Epilogue