Deep in the thick forest, three lone figures brandished small, wooden weaponry at each other.
"Marian's the villainous darkspawn," Carver directed, waving his toy sword emphatically. "Bethany can be the damsel, and I'm the hero."
"I'm always the damsel," Bethany complained. "Can't I be someone else this time?"
"You want to be the villain?" Carver offered.
"No..."
"Then keep quiet and hold your place, damsel."
"Some heroic gentleman you make." Bethany muttered.
"Carver, if Bethany wants to be the hero, let her." Marian ordered.
"What?" Carver protested. "No. She's not strong enough to be the hero. Besides, I'm not a girl. I can't be a damsel."
"Carver," Marian started in a warning tone.
"No," Carver shook his head resolutely. "It doesn't fit. You can't just change up roles like that."
Marian sighed. "I'll be the damsel, but let Bethany be the hero. You can be the villain for once, Carver."
"But-"
Marian gave him a look and Carver abruptly shut up, glaring and grumbling as Marian handed over her wooden play sword to the six year old. Marian gave Bethany a warm smile, then tapped Carver on the shoulder. "What're you waiting for? Take your post."
Carver grumbled under his breath. "Girl heroes..."
"Thanks, Sis!" Bethany smiled, her eyes shining like glistening stars.
Marian winked, shooing Bethany off. "Don't wander too far, Beth."
"I won't!" Bethany promised, hiking over to a random start position in the trees.
Bethany closed her eyes and counted to forty, anticipation and excitement growing by the second. I get to be the hero this time! I get to save my sister. She could hardly wait. Gripping her play sword tightly, Bethany opened her eyes-
to meet a startling new world in vibrant arrays of color. The ground where she'd once stood blazed red hot with energy and life. Her own hand glowed magnificently, brighter than the world's shades around her. All about, the trees, rodents, tiny insects, even rocks, to a lesser degree, glowed with the life of the surrounding area. Bethany breathed in deeply, startled and scared.
The flowing streams of life began to move.
Bethany squeaked, her pulse speeding to match the quickening rhythmic thum of her heartbeat. The streams moved, migrating towards her and Bethany felt a wellspring of…of power run through her. It revitalized her body, like liquid energy pouring through her veins.
"M-Marian?" Bethany closed her eyes as the streams of life surged towards her, vertigo and power gathering to pool and charge her blood. The glow behind her eyes died and, when Bethany opened them, the world had returned to its normal, muted colors, but the feeling, the rush inside of her had not receded.
Her heart raced. Bethany whimpered, staggering with the sway of the energy until she was brought to her knees. She clutched the wooden sword for all she was worth to stop the trembling, but it didn't cease. A building warmth spread through Bethany, so powerful and majestic, it took her breath away. She gasped, fighting to beat this rising feeling down, but she was not strong enough to contain it. It spread, encompassing her, traveling through her blood and to her extremities until every crevasse felt full to bursting of this otherworldly force. Bethany cried, tears streaming down her cheeks as the feeling moved, writhing inside of her until a forceful shove pushed out of her fingertips. Bethany's hands glowed.
A tear on her cheek froze in its path, glistening ice chips marring her pale skin.
The sword she was holding started to frost over, the condition spreading like a fungal plague over the wood until it was completely covered, and then the frost turned to ice. Bethany could barely breathe, and when she did, her breath came out cold, layering more ice upon the frozen sword. Bethany released it in fright, hands dropping to the ground in horror in an attempt to steady herself, but the ice simply layered over shards of grass instead. Bethany gaped, picking up her hands from the ground in fright..
"Gotcha!" Carver jumped from the bushes, wooden blade held at the ready until he saw Bethany's glowing hands. "Whoa." Carver took a step back, eyes growing wide.
"Carver," Bethany choked, liquid droplets freezing as they fell from her cheeks. "Help me."
Carver regained his wits and dropped his sword, rushing forward to assist. He reached for Bethany's wrist, but then yelped and pulled back as the cold spread to his fingers. "W-Wait," Carver stuttered. "I'm getting Marian." Without another word, he took off.
Bethany cowered back from her hands. "Maker, please." She begged, knowing nothing else to do. If only this whirling inside her would stop, she could start to think again and find help. The power coursing through her was so strong. "Stopit..."
"Bethany!"
"Marian." Bethany whimpered.
"Watch out!" Carver warned as Marian stooped for her. "She'll freeze you!"
"I can't," Bethany mewled. "I can't stop it. Marian- "
Ignoring Carver's warning, Marian reached for her wrists and cursed. "Tuck your hands in against my shirt," Marian ordered, lifting an arm under Bethany's legs and back to carry her bridal-style. "Hide them. Do not let anyone see."
"But-"
"Just do it!" Marian ordered, then softened her voice. "I can take it. It's okay."
Bethany hesitatingly obliged. Marian sucked in a fast breath at the extreme pass of cold that crisped her shirt and immediately sunk through. Bethany seemed guilt-stricken, built on her pain, but Marian stood quickly to assure her she could move. "Hide your face in my shirt," Marian commanded in a gentler tone. "And close your eyes." She wouldn't say so, but she didn't want Bethany's eyes to freeze over, if it was already affecting her tears. "Don't open them for a second until I say."
"Okay," Bethany mumbled, face buried in her shirt. Marian shivered as a new layer of ice built, crusting over her chest uncomfortably.
"Carver, look on ahead. We need the quietest route home possible." Marian ordered.
"What's happening to her?" Carver asked, just as scared.
"It's magic." Marian shivered as the seeping cold spread. Her shirt was almost entirely frozen already. "We need dad. Go." Carver ran and Marian took off after him. "Shh," she whispered comforting assurances to Bethany, her throat already starting to feel chilled. "I'm taking you to Dad. You're gonna be fine, Bethany. Just wait."
Carver jogged around the town, then headed back for another route. "Come on," he urged. "This way."
Marian's stomach was starting to freeze.
"It's inside of me," Bethany whimpered. "Marian..."
"Shh," Marian hiked her higher, drawing a cool freeze line up her stomach to her chest. "Almost there."
They rushed through the backstreets of Denerim, avoiding everyone they could. Marian caught some stares, but in these back allies, no one cared to investigate. Still, the eyes bore into Marian. Every pair, she was sure they could see, could tell what she held. It didn't help that the spell had frozen her shirt entirely now, or that the steps were getting harder, her legs starting to feel stiff and cold. Marian worried over none of that, simply determined to get her sister to safety. Carver led on.
"We're here," Carver advised. "We're gonna need to make a break for it, through the market to get there. You ready?"
Marian grimaced.
They sprinted straight through the market for their house. The cold burrowed up Marian's throat, choking her now. She took in a last wheezing gulp of air before a block of ice completely restricted her trachea.
Carver made it to the door first and held it open as Marian zipped inside, then stumbled, refusing to release Bethany in her fall as she struggled to draw another breath. The door slammed behind them as Leandra's eyes widened in fright. "MALCOLM!"
Leandra raced forward and grabbed her youngest out from under Marian, cradling Bethany. Carver knelt next to Marian and turned her on her back. Marian's face was turning blue; he couldn't tell whether it was from the cold or the hem of her shirt, Carver tore off the frozen sheet and clumsily started chest compressions, something he had seen a drowned victim receive once before.
Malcolm arrived at the bottom of the stairs and raced to his daughters in the kitchen. Grabbing Bethany's blue-gleaming hands, his own emitted a soft red glow, completely absorbing the cold emanating from hers. Malcolm reached across and stopped his son's compressions. Instead, he placed three red-glowing fingers across Marian's throat. It took a second, but then Marian choked, flipping on her side as a violent hacking spell took her as she spewed up the melted ice.
"Bethany," Leandra cried, cradling her baby. "Oh, Bethany."
Malcolm breathed a sigh of relief, tending a sobbing Bethany and a weeping wife.
Carver ran and grabbed a glass of water and a blanket. Throwing the blanket over Marian's shoulders, he gave her the water when she was ready, then helped her move closer to the fire.
One thing was certain: life in the Hawke household would never be the same again.
XXX
Leandra combed a hand through her sleeping daughter's hair fondly. murmuring sweet nothings in a bid to assure herself just as much as to soothe Bethany.
"We can't stay." Malcolm ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Any number of people could have seen their run through the streets. I'm surprised the templars aren't knocking at our door yet." He sighed, gazing at his beautiful daughter. "I never wanted this. Not for her. Not for any of my children. If it hadn't been for Marian's bravery..."
Watching from the shadows, Carver waited to be mentioned.
"I almost lost two of my children today." Leandra cradled Bethany, squeezing her gently. "My daughters."
"We have to move out, Leandra." Malcolm said with a heavy exhale, seating himself next to his wife. He rubbed her back with one hand soothingly. "First thing in the morning, before dawn. I won't let the templars take Bethany." Malcolm lifted a hand to Bethany's forehead, brushing her skin by the hairline gently. "Marian's broken ribs will prevent her from riding well. Carver's too young, doesn't know how to handle a horse like his sister yet. I will take us through; no stops. They'll be looking for us."
I could take shifts just as much as Marian. Carver thought, clenching his fist.
"Where will we go?" Leandra asked, her voice quiet.
Malcolm sighed heavily. "I don't know, Leandra. Away."
"I'm glad we have such strong daughters." Leandra murmured.
Carver gritted his teeth and left.
"And a son," Malcolm added, "Who can react to save his sisters."
"Yes," Leandra agreed. "Maker bless all my children."
Stomping upstairs, Carver cast a nasty glare to his bedridden sister, tempted to press on her sore stomach. "Bitch." Tears blurring his eyes, Carver climbed into bed on the opposite end of the room and covered himself. "I'll show them." He sniffled, burying his face in the covers to muffle his angry sob. I'll show them all.
XXX
"It is a precision of the elements," Malcom instructed. "You draw each in balance to keep your current spell from imploding. If I'm casting an ice charm, for example," Malcom indicated his staff where the magic gem crafted into the top end glowed blue. "Ice is what I'm summoning, but I also am keeping track of the water and molecules around me, lest I draw too much out of them and suffocate myself in the process of casting.
It's the mage's job to monitor and keep steady the conflicting elements. If they become unbalanced..." Malcom demonstrated. The ice traveled halfway across the clearing, then gleamed with heat and exploded into a thousand tiny fragments that spiraled out. Bethany winced as they shot at them, but Malcom effortlessly constructed a shield before they got close. "Will fail the spell, often dangerously."
"These are just the core elements," Malcom specified. "Magic branches further into spirit, arcane, creation, blood and field magics, and others, but we're going to focus on the core ones for now. Although, I must warn you, my dear. We will never attempt blood magic or consort with demons. It is dangerous. You must never consort with demons for your power, Bethany, not under any circumstance. Do you understand?"
Looking at him with big, fearful eyes, Bethany nodded.
"I will train you on all of this and why," Malcolm said, offering her a kind smile. "But we're just going to work on elemental magic today." He bent to a knee, getting eye level with her, and held out his staff. "Try it, Beth."
"But..."
"You can do it." Malcom encouraged, "I'm right here." He lifted the staff to her again.
Bethany took it hesitantly. Malcom nodded and rubbed her back. Closing her eyes, she concentrated, feeling the life of the world flow through her. It was fluid, weightless, and powerful, so powerful, it tingled and ached, almost asking her to release it. This feeling coalesced and seemed to center within her, held steady with the gemmed staff in her hands.
Taking a deep breath, Bethany manipulated that energy, twisting and forming it in her mind's eye before she opened her eyes to find the gem on the staff glowing. Following her father's direction, Bethany called on the elements to that raw power and almost faltered at the strength of them all rising at once, but her father's warm hands went to her shoulders and helped her balance them. Swallowing, Bethany battled all back all but fire, which was by far the most powerful. Before her, heat particles condensed as she, with her dad's help, struggled to maintain homeostasis of all the other elements that swirled around her. She watched the fluid colors of them move in the air like waves, and then finally, the tip of her staff gleamed red hot.
A steady stream of flame poured out the gem, scorching out a fiery blaze over the clearing for a duration of eight seconds.
The fire died out with a heavy exhale as Bethany slumped, leaning against her father for support. The wood in her hand remained cool, and the stone went dormant, back to it's usual crystalline shade.
"You did it!" Clapping rang out somewhere to her left a few seconds before her father's arms encircled her waist, scooping her into a hug. "My girl, you did it!"
"Way to go, Beth!" Malcom set his daughter down so that she could receive the compliments of his eldest. "That was amazing!" Marian hugged her from the side. "You were incredible. The stream was so perfect, it didn't waver once! Nice job, Sis!"
Carver came up behind Marian, but made no move to hug Bethany. He grumbled. "At least you didn't blow up the clearing."
Bethany blushed bright red.
Marian backhanded her younger brother in the stomach. "Stop that." She said, shaking her head before turning back to her sister. "Ignore him. You were great, Bethany. We're really proud."
"Thanks, Sis." Bethany smiled tentatively, her hands still trembling.
Malcom ruffled her hair. "You've done well, honey. This may be much easier than I feared." He bent to kiss the top of her head. "Your mother will want to hear about this."
"Can we cut the kum-bi-yas?" Carver interrupted, tapping Marian's leg with his unsheathed shortsword. "Let's spar, sister. I want to beat you with your new sword." Marian unsheathed her large, two-handed blade, a gift she'd received for her thirteenth birthday just days ago.
"Okay, Carver." Marian agreed. "Let's spar."
Swords clashed moments later.
Moving off to the side with her father, Bethany listened to his comforting instruction about the use of magic while she watched her twin brother and older sister spar.
On the field, Carver sprung back, eyes widening for a moment before his gaze hardened and he circled Marian. They danced around each other in a half circle before Carver dashed in again, catching her heavy sword with his shortblade in the middle, where they pushed their steel together for dominance.
Bethany watched Carver waver, brow beaded with sweat, eyes narrowed as he fought Marian's great force. Marian's stronger. Bethany realized, seeing Carver almost imperceptibly slide back. If they stayed locked like that, she was going to win. Carver needed a different tactic.
Carver wavered again, but surprisingly, Marian let up. Pulling back her blade, she ducked under Carver's impending steel and twirled to clash their weapons at a much slower speed than Bethany knew her sister capable of. Bethany frowned, confused, then worried when she saw Marian take the defensive. Even with all his openings and the greater length of her dual-handed sword, Marian played defense, blocking Carver's moves.
It's almost like... Bethany tapped her father's leg, watching the combatants. "Dad?"
"Hmm?"
"Is Marian letting Carver win?"
Malcom looked at his seven year old, surprise taking his features. "Perceptive, Bethany." Malcom gazed back to his fighting children. "She's being a sportly sister, yes."
"Oh," Bethany watched them, seeing Marian take a smart hit from the pommel of Carver's sword for letting him through. She watched her brother gleefully kick out Marian's legs from under her. Marian didn't move, though Bethany knew she could. "Isn't that detrimental to his training?"
"If he was older, yes." Malcom shook his head, watching Carver hold his short sword to her throat. Marian held out her weapon and dropped the blade. "But Carver's just a young thing. Your sister's just looking out for his feelings, fragile as we know they are."
Bethany found her father smiling and giggled at the jest. In front of them, Carver danced around with his sword held high, neglecting to even help Marian up in wake of his victory.
XXX
"I really wish you wouldn't cut your sister's hair, Bethany." Leandra said, frowning as Bethany continued to snip her firstborn's already-short hair.
"I want it cut," Hawke explained. "It's getting too long at the ends again."
"It's almost as short as Carver's." Leandra complained. Her children blissfully ignored her and Bethany continued her work.
"I think it looks good on her," Bethany put in. "I think it fits her."
"It's boyish," Leandra sighed. "I've raised a tomboy firstborn; what will the other mothers say of me?"
"Not that we stay in one place long enough for the other mothers to form opinions," Carver interjected nastily. Bethany paused in her clippings, guild-ridden eyes lowering as Carver brushed past to grab his razor.
"Then Mother has nothing to worry about, does she?" Hawke interjected into the quiet wake of Carver's comment. Leandra sighed again heavily. "Besides," Hawke added. "Petra likes it that way."
"Petra?" Leandra frowned. "Who's Petra?"
"She's our friend." Bethany stood on tip-toes to clip at the top of Hawke's head. "The redhead, Mom. You met her mother at the river the other day."
"Sleslie's daughter?" Bethany nodded. "I seem to remember seeing her daughter vaguely. That pretty girl?"
"Yeah!" Hawke agreed enthusiastically. "That's her, Mom. She's nice, isn't she?"
"Her mother spoke of her as if she were a dear," Leandra confirmed.
Hawke grinned. "I'm gonna hike west with her up to Dragon's Peak today. We wanna try to climb it. I bet her I could beat her to the top."
"Why couldn't the Maker bless me with scholars instead of adventurous tomboys." Leandra lamented. "You best take care of Bethany while you're racing up this mountain, Marian."
"I'm not going, Mom." Bethany corrected. "Marian can take the credit. I'm gonna stay home, do our laundry, and maybe read."
"You're going alone? With this girl I barely know?" Leandra's lips pursed. "I'm not sure I like that."
"I'm fourteen, Mom." Marian waved off. "I can handle it. Besides, weren't you just asking for a scholar? Bethany volunteers!"
4 Hours Later
"I can't believe you beat me." Marian repeated, scratching her neck.
"I found a shortcut." Petra confessed, smiling.
"Really?" Marian glanced around their small plateau. "Where?"
Petra's eyes sparkled. "A lady never tells." Hurrying back over to Marian, she took the other girl's wrist. "Come on. The view up here is amazing."
Marian followed along to the edge of the cliff where they both seated themselves to gaze out below. Marian glanced back down, chuckling to see Carver still two thirds of the way down the cliff. "Need help, brother?" she yelled down to him.
"I'm fine," Carver echoed, followed with grumbling about why he had to come. Marian grinned, satisfied as she gazed out at the trees and forest down below.
Warm digits traced over the back of her hand. Marian glanced over to see Petra's fingers dancing across her skin. She lifted her hand and Petra's palm found hers, fingers twining between hers. When she looked at the other girl, Petra was gazing out over the landscape. "Sure is beautiful up here," Petra commented, squeezing her hand.
"Yeah," Hawke agreed, warm all over, despite the wind's chill. Her eyes never left Petra. "It is."
She blushed a little when Petra glanced her way, eyes averting from her friend, but Petra just smiled warmly and scooted closer. She drew Marian near enough to bring her head to Petra's shoulder and squeezed her hand again.
"Thanks for coming, Petra."
"To spend time with you?" Petra smiled. "It's never a chore."
It all felt right.
XXX
Marian urged the horses to hurry and settled back against the wooden seat.
"Be careful, Marian." Leandra echoed from behind her in the caravan she was toting.
"I wanna make it to redcliff before Bethany's birthday." Marian explained, not slowing down. "She's turning thirteen, she shouldn't have to celebrate it in a caravan."
Carver jounced off a rough bump and grumbled. "Just don't kill us to get there. We've got cargo back here, including your precious sister."
Marian glanced back over her shoulder, cracking Carver a wry grin. "It's for your birthday too, brother, grumpy as you are."
"If we find a community oven when we get there, I may even be able to gather ingredients for a cake." Leandra said amiably.
"That'd be great," Marian said, glancing over her shoulder to smile at her sleeping sister.
They hit a bumpy rock and Carver crossed his arms as the caravan shook. "Watch the road, Marian."
Marian shook her head, turning back to the road. She squinted, sharp eyes finding something far off in the distance. Her eyes watered as her mind registered what the tiny specks were, along with a growing flame that rose up from the wood. "Carver!" Marian spurred the horses even faster, and when they got within a half a mile, she pulled aside their caravan and hopped off before they'd even fully stopped. "Bandits! Grab your sword! Mother, wake father and stay put!" Carver fumbled in his haste, leaping out the back. Marian was already halfway there to the burning caravan the bandits were looting by the time he started sprinting.
Women screamed as the raiders fought, slaying the men present and dragging off everyone else to two other caravans to steal them away. Slavers. Marian thought darkly, charging in, blade raised.
She cut through the first man without mercy. The girl he'd been dragging in a chokehold collapsed to the ground, coughing and choking, but Hawke had no time to stop. They'd noticed her now and descended in a swoop. Those who weren't struggling with victims or were carting out crates dropped them to surge towards her. Marian fast found herself outnumbered four to one, with four other thugs struggling to drop their victims as quickly as possible to join the fray.
Marian's sword cleaved at the horde of them, scraping two shields and clanging to a halt at a third sword with surprisingly great strength. Marian shoved at the slaver, pushing him back as two flanked her. She whirled on the two, clashing steel with the first and just barely managing to hop back out of the way from a deadly sweeping blow.
Someone from behind grabbed Marian under the arms in an armlock, forcing her blade back and useless. Marian grunted, kicking her feet up off the ground to level them at the attacker in front of her and thrust her boots into his chest. She slammed her head back, hearing a satisfying crack as the man let out a wail of pain and released her. A hot scissor of pain sliced twin gashes into her upper arm and Marian turned, barely catching the daggers' next blow only by grabbing the blade of her own to sport it up by the last second. Someone kicked out the back of her knees, triggering a reflex collapse that put Marian at a severe disadvantage. The man in front of her raised his daggers-
only to have a sword erupt bloodily through his chest not but seconds later. He gaped like a fish before the weapon was dragged out, leaving him to collapse in a heap. "If anyone cuts Marian, it'll be me."
Marian managed to smile in the midst, rolling to avoid a hammering strike to the earth. "I love you too, Carver." She slashed across the slaver's legs, who yelped in agony and horror as he fell. Marian stood, dragging the tip of her blade through the dirt as she brought the sword up with her in a diagonal cleave. The slaver gaped as her sword cut cleanly through his heavy wooden shield. "Took your sweet time getting here, didn't you?"
Carver shoved back his opponent and backstabbed into the rogue's shoulder who tried to flank him. "I thought the eldest of our family could handle herself against a few low lifes."
"Careful," Marian laughed. "You're starting to sound jealous now."
Carver scoffed.
"Help!" A woman screamed. "Somebody help! They're taking Iona!"
"Duty calls," Marian smirked, cutting into the armor pad over a slaver's side and pushing him into Carver's man. "Take it, brother." Marian tossed him her dual-wield while the immediate two stumbled. Carver dropped his own without hesitation and caught it. Although he stumbled a bit under the sudden weight, he cleanly cut an arc through the approaching warrior, slicing him right through his leather armor. Marian dashed through her opening, leaving Carver to fight the residual three as she took off, practically flying past the screaming woman and her huddling family as she took off after the escaping caravan.
Adrenaline swallowed the throb in her arm and the fatigue from her step, speeding Marian almost unnaturally as she easily caught up to the moving caravan and jumped into the bunk. Marian caught herself before momentum could tumble her backwards, eyes immediately finding the horrified girl strapped to the side of the bunk. Marian scrambled to her feet, steadying herself on the wall as she stumbled to the back of the moving caravan.
"Hey," The girl's eyes bulged in irrational fear as Marian started fiddling with her leather-strapped bonds. "Shhh," Marian corrected, reaching up for her gag. "I'm here to help you." Marian pulled the gag down, bringing both hands to the leather strap to play with it.
Outside, a stream of ice frosted a path to the front wheel of the caravan, covering it in a block of ice that jolted the cart with every rotation until the cube grew so big, the caravan swerved on its tire, skidding until the rider managed to halt.
Marian yelped as a heavy weight smashed into her side, cleanly taking her out after undoing only the first leather strap. She crashed to the wooden bunk with a heavy thud, weight pressing down on her, and rolled. Marian swapped their positions and crushed her elbow into his neck. The man choked, strangled as she pulled a dagger. His eyes alighted on the weapon and, before Marian could bring it to bear, he caught her wrists in one giant paw, the other pinned beneath him. Marian grunted with strain as her dagger wavered.
Disadvantaged in build and strength, Marian pressed harder into his neck with her elbow, struggling to keep the blade pointed down. The man choked, but held strong, continuing to inch the dagger towards her as Marian struggled to hold him steady. Sweat beaded her brow as the blade tilted higher, positioned straight back for her chest. Marian wavered.
I can't hold him, Marian realized. The dagger would pierce her before he passed out. She wasn't strong enough to hold a grown man twice her size. I'm going to lose.
Wincing, Marian succumbed to the only thing she could manage in such a situation. Suddenly releasing her hold on the dagger, the blade jarred up with the removal of resistance as Marian slid down half a foot.
A blinding agony split her injured shoulder as the man drove the blade to bone. A bone-chilling scream echoed through the caravan as Marian crushed her elbow down into his throat. The man fell limp under her.
Marian heaved, world spinning as she reached up to the dagger's hilt with her good arm. With one quick, blindingly painful jerk, she tore the dagger free, blood dripping out in rivets. Marian dropped the blade limply, pushing down the nausea as she unsteadily pulled up to her feet. "I'mcomin'" Marian mumbled, swallowing back the taste of blood. Iona, Marian vaguely remembered the screaming. Gotta get Iona.
Marian tripped her way to the bound girl. "Don' worry," Marian assured, swimming vision focusing on the girl now that the blasted caravan had stopped running. She stared long and hard for a good minute until her eyes cleared, steady on the girl. "I've got you," Marian told her, ripping free the other leather holster. The girl stumbled forward into Marian upon her release from the wall prison, almost taking them both out, but Marian caught herself.
"You saved me!" The girl leaned against Marian, though Marian couldn't really tell who was sporting who at this point. A sudden warm press to her lips robbed Marian of all such concerns. She pulled back quickly, leaving Marian with a goofy, half-delirious grin plastered on in place of the pain. "Thank you. I... " her cheeks rosied, just coming into awareness that a kiss may not be appropriate for this hero.
Marian lifted her good hand up the girl's back and met their mouths more more, half-starved in her quickly-expanding delirium for that warm, wet touch. The girl's arms curled up under Marian as her champion clumsily, but deliciously, took her up in the kiss. Marian lingered and Iona could taste her hot breath on her lips.
Carver stepped around back to retrieve his sister from the broken caravan and gaped. His eyes narrowed in true hatred as he turned away to stomp back.
Marian collapsed against her rescued victim with all the grace of a dead cat. Iona caught her, but Marian's muscle-heavy body proved great. Iona settled to the wooden floor of the caravan with her champion strewn across her lap.
The last thing Marian would remember was a pretty elfish face with that warm, soft press.