The journey down the mountain was relatively uneventful and mostly silent. The party gave Lucky and, in turn, Bethany, plenty of space. None of them were sure if they really wanted to voice their thoughts.

Aveline hovered near Lucky, her eyes worriedly glancing in his direction often. She kept opening her mouth as if to say something, but found she had no words of comfort for what just happened.

Varric seemed on edge, complaining about fresh air and the chill, not liking the thought of having to camp out in the woods at all. He kept cleaning off his boots only for more mud to get on them.

Merrill led them quietly, a somber expression on her face.

Even Carver seemed to be keeping a respectful distance, a little shell shocked. Occasionally he would wipe his eyes and mutter it was getting dusty.

Bethany wasn't sure if she was done freaking out. She was riding in Lucky's head like a spirit. Worse, a demon. All sense of sensation was foreign and she craved for something that felt similar to what she used to know. She could feel the strong aura of magic coursing through him, so powerful it seemed to push her out. She wanted to reach, to grasp, to cry, but her movements were locked to the mercy of her brother.

Though Lucky kept his thoughts carefully guarded, Bethany was covered in an unbridled happiness he couldn't contain. It felt like a hug, and Bethany held onto it, more soothing than her own confused grief..

They at least had Boof, who refused to leave Lucky's side even for a moment.

Bethany would try to talk to Lucky, but he would give her short answers. She got a sense that he was drained of energy and yet she couldn't stand the silence.

"How long have I been gone?"

"Almost a year." She noticed it was his thoughts that answered her and not his voice. It would be just like him to have that much control, while she was floundering.

"And what about the templar? Are we safe?" She pulled his gaze warily towards Aveline, the templar's wife. The last she remembered they were just one phone call away from being reported.

"He died." She could feel his protectiveness of the templar's wife, the way his heart sped up when she looked back to meet his gaze.

"Oh, Lucky…" Did he really keep Aveline around because of a crush? How reckless.

"It's not like that." She could feel the flush come up to his cheeks, even though he put up a very firm wall. "We would have never made it to Kirkwall without her. She's…family."

Bethany shrunk back at that. To just throw that word at her when one of her last memories was staring down the barrel of her husband's gun.

The memory sparked a pain, as if she had hit something sharp, and suddenly she had trouble seeing. It was like the memory had been scooped out of her head and placed out of reach.

"Hey…" Lucky started speaking aloud so the others turned towards him. He ignored them, wrapping around Bethany with a feeling of concern. "You've been through an ordeal. Take it easy."

There was finality to his tone that reminded her of their Father, and she recalled Flemeth warning her about triggering the memory of her death. Even the phantom of the pain was enough to speed her brother's heart and bring a tremble in her that spread to his limbs. Or was it Lucky's fear she was sensing?

Bethany spent the rest of the journey trying to acclimate to seeing through someone else's eyes, afraid to think about the questions she wanted to ask. Lucky was taller than she was and she wasn't used to how the breeze tickled the back of her head. She didn't quite feel real moving in his body. In a sense she felt cut off, like she was stuck in a dream.

Part of her wondered if she was. Was this a test? Was she actually in the void being punished in this nightmare?

Every time she panicked, she felt Lucky hover, and soon it became suffocating. She wanted her thoughts to be her own again. She wanted to not be this abomination. And then Lucky withdrew. She felt the pain of his sorrow, his uncertainty of what to do as he put up more walls, trying to give her privacy. For a while she relished the fact she didn't have a voice echoing back her thoughts, but it soon became lonely.

It was dark when they got to the base of the mountain. The Keeper, escorted by several warrior elves, walked up to them; the tip of her flaming staff acting like a torch.

The Keeper's eyes glowed eerily in the darkness. "So Asha'bellanar has collected you?"

Bethany's heart jolted, causing Lucky to jump. "What does she mean by that?"

Lucky paused for a second, wondering if he should answer the Keeper or his sister.

Bethany felt around the edges of his thoughts, but felt sharp corners blocking her.

"It's done," he muttered bitterly.

She sensed dread, like he had done something he couldn't take back, but that was all she could sense from him. But there was an anxiety in the way his fingers threaded through Boof's soft fur, how his heart sped up so she could feel it thrumming in her throat.

The Keeper motioned to an elf with thick locs that twisted like coiled snakes down his head and was braided into a bun. He stepped forward, his large violet eyes bright in the darkness. "Gethel will escort you to your tent. We will bring food and arrangements for you to sleep."

Varric groaned, but had the sense not to complain more.

The others turned to follow Gethel, but Lucky stayed behind with Merrill. He suddenly bowed low from his waist. This surprised Bethany. He was not one to suck up to anyone. "I'm sorry but I awoke the resting spirits and was forced to slay them."

The Keeper stiffened, her green eyes flashing. "The graves were desecrated." The other elves broke out into angry chatter.

Lucky didn't raise his head, but Bethany could feel his spine going weak. "I'm fully responsible."

"No," the Keeper sniffed. "It was not you who I entrusted to keep our ancestors safe." She turned her harsh gaze at Merrill who stepped forward, her head low, the points of her ears twitching.

"I failed, Keeper," Merrill did not raise her head.

Bethany was confused about what was going on but she could taste her brother's guilt before he clamped the walls shut around him. He took a protective step forward beside Merrill. "It's not her fault-"

But before Lucky could finish Aveline pushed forward and bowed too. "Please. It was my emotions that were not in check. Please don't judge Merrill too harshly."

The Keeper's expression softened for just a moment. "You may have been the cause but it was Merrill's job to prevent that." She then put on a more patient expression but Bethany could tell it was painted. "Thank you for your concern but it is time for you to leave us. Merrill must prepare for the banal'vara."

Bethany caught Merrill flinching.

"The what?" Lucky asked.

The Keeper gave him a withering stare. "It is not for outsider's to witness."

With that, they were led off to the tent guarded by two archers. Perhaps guest was a generous word for what they were tonight, but nobody seemed to want to strain their welcome further. The news about them desecrating the ancient elves' graves had not won them any favors.

There was a fire at the center and fur covered mats set around it. As they settled in, more elves came in to wordlessly give them their meals. It was only at Bethany's reminder that Lucky thanked them.

It was clear he was preoccupied. A soft conversation started around them, but Lucky's thoughts were only on Bethany, even as she felt the fatigue setting in his limbs. Now that they were sitting, she realized how exhausted Lucky was. The food tasted gamey and herby, perhaps venison given what could be hunted in these forests, but Bethany could sense that every bite was forced, the tastes souring in his mouth as he chewed slowly.

Boof was given a whole hunk of meat for dinner, which he scarfed in twenty seconds flat. He then turned his puppy eyes at Lucky, begging for his.

Carver settled in next to him, his face tense as his gaze avoided the amulet around Lucky's neck. "How's Beth?"

"You want to talk to her?"

Bethany smiled. This was exactly what she needed. But she froze when she saw Carver flinch. Lucky averted his gaze so she could no longer see his expression, but the hurt was done.

Lucky shoved another bite in his mouth, barely chewing. They watched Carver's feet shuffle as he fumbled for an answer. "I'm…tired." But suddenly there was a warm hand on top of hers, squeezing. "Tomorrow, though."

Varric was off in a corner, writing frantically on his tablet, complaining he needed to get his thoughts out before the battery died. He seemed to be in a world of his own.

Carver joined Aveline in the corner, eating in silence.

After a few more bites, Lucky set his bowl in front of Boof and laid wordlessly into a sleeping mat. The fur mats still gave off the fresh scent of leather, and Boof soon curled up in a ball next to Lucky resting his head next to him. Bethany could tell that even though he was tired, his mind was awake.

They breathed in the scent of Boof's fur, both of them feeling encased by the warm feeling of their dog's soft breathing. Boof licked Lucky's hands, and in the softness of the moment Bethany heard one thought slip from his barrier.

"What am I going to tell Mother?"

She didn't respond at first, but soon the thought consumed her, too. There was no way this wouldn't break their mother's heart. For a moment his mental walls cracked, and Bethany was overwhelmed with a feeling of guilt and self-hatred so encompassing and overwhelming she couldn't breathe. And then the wall sealed again, and all she could sense was her own thoughts and Lucky's heavy thudding heart in the hollow of where her chest should be.

"This will break Mom's heart," she agreed, not knowing what to say. There was no way it wouldn't.

Lucky put his hand over the amulet, the feeling warming her somehow. "This will not be your life."

"But it is." Normally her response would be more diplomatic but she had no barrier to filter her thoughts.

"I'll do whatever it takes. I promise."

Bethany's doubt wanted to argue. Lucky always made big promises, and she could feel how serious he was about keeping it. And that was what she feared. He had already been reckless, and whatever he had done with Flemeth had put him in more danger than he was willing to tell her.

Boof lifted an ear and settled his head on top of Lucky's hand. His big brown eyes gazed with concern. "You don't need to worry about me, Beth. You have enough problems."

"Don't shut me out!" Her voice was so intense she locked Lucky's muscles. "Please. I can't go through this alone. Talk to me…"

"You're not alone," he argued. She could sense his hesitation, even though she read nothing from him.

"But…this isn't normal. This is… I want to talk like we used to." She could feel her tears welling up in her brother's eyes and he wiped them away.

She could feel the ghost of his uncertainty but, to her relief, he relented. "So…turns out we're not rich. Our shitty uncle lost our Grandparents' fortune. Our estate is gone and we live in a shack." He told her about Varric. How they were going to be bodyguards for his Deep Roads Expedition. How Carver and Boof and him had set up their own mercenary company. How their new friend Aveline sometimes bailed them out of trouble with her position at the Guard.

He complained a lot about their uncle Gamlen, about how his house is cramped and smelled of old cabbages and the power goes out all the time and the rent is too damn high. He tried to keep his tone light but she could sense the sharp and jagged stress behind his words. When he talked of their Mother, his thoughts had an ache that vibrated through her.

"She talks to you every day. She's going to really like having the real thing."

"Am I though?" Bethany felt like a tight string being pulled apart. "The Chantry says-"

"The Chantry says a lot of bullshit."

Normally she would get mad at him for blaspheming, but there was only grief left in her. "I'm an abomination."

"No," she felt his protectiveness surrounding her. "You're my sister."

They lay in silence, now realizing that the fire was starting to grow dim. Carver and Boof were taking turns snoring.

Bethany suddenly felt guilty. She knew her brother was already exhausted and she had forced him to stay up even longer. "I'm sorry you had to stay up over my freakout."

"Beth, I've been waiting over a year to hear your voice. Don't think I regret a moment with you."

She smiled, pulling his lips so that he smiled back. "Talk more tomorrow?"

His smile deepened. "Count on it."

The walls returned and Bethany listened into the snoring until Lucky's body pulled her into a restless sleep.

—

Merrill stared at the blade in front of her, her face hard with her decision, but resolute that the time had finally come. Still, her spine felt like jelly, her hands clenching to keep from shaking. She didn't realize this would be so hard.

Keeper Marethari took her place on one side of the augury fire as Kasa sat on the other of Merrill, replacing her as First.

The Keeper took the ceremonial blade from its cloth, the flames dancing on the mossy colored gemmed hilt, still as sharp as the day it was made – centuries ago before the fall of the Dales.

"Merrill. You wish to untie your threads to clan Sabrae."

Merrill nodded with no hesitation. "I do."

"Every loss we take is the parting of a limb. We say goodbye, but not willingly." There was an ache in the Keeper's eyes that stabbed Merrill's heart. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment to steel herself. Merrill knew she would always make this choice, no matter how painful it was.

Merrill's lips wobbled just a little. "And I wouldn't normally consider leaving my clan and family," but Merrill picked up her head proudly and sat tall like Asha'bellanar told her, "but every year we lose more of our culture to the shemlen. Every year, we lose more clan members, and the knowledge they carry dies with them. Our precious artifacts are plundered and stolen and we've had nothing to fight back with." She clenched her fists tighter so her knuckles whitened. "The eluvian is said to have been the key of Arlathan's empire. If we could take back that power-"

Keeper Marethari waved her hand, the blade slicing the air. "Enough, Merrill. You've already stated your case and I disagree. We've lost two of our own to that cursed mirror, and tonight I lose one more." Marethari's eyes teared up as she gripped the blade firmly, a tear falling down her cheek. "Begin the banal'vara."

Merrill closed her eyes and bowed her head, offering it to her Keeper. "Ma Nuvenin."

—

The angry, heavy steps of pugot mamu chased Bethany through the Kocari Wilds. The headless creature gnashed its teeth at her, its charred skin dripping with the saliva that ran down its shoulders.

How was she back here? Being chased by this demon again? And where were her brothers? Weren't they right behind her?

The beams of moonlight penetrated the thick canopy of the forest, only offering a dim light making it difficult to see where she was going. She weaved through the trees as she ran. Creatures and spirits rustled overhead. She was losing stamina and the pugot mamu would soon outrun her. As soon as she saw thick bushes, she ducked underneath. "Conceal," she whispered, her skin blending into the leaves.

Her heart pounded in her ears, but she strained to listen to the signs of the pugot.

Then she heard it, the rattling growl that shuddered the forest. Its padded steps crunched the fallen dead leaves, a wet squishing sound huffed out of its cavernous toothy shoulders, squelching and expanding as it sniffed for her. She held her breath, working on slowing her heart as she felt it get closer. On the edge of her vision she saw its tar feet, more monkey than human, gnarled with talons. It strode through the trees in the direction she had last been heading but then stopped at the bush she'd hidden in, as if sensing her.

She closed her eyes, knowing that if she looked up she would cry out and it would find her. The world sank into darkness as its wet mouth sucked the air, searching for her scent. She heard it rustling closer, and limbs locked.

Drool plopped onto the damp forest floor as it inched closer and closer. It was human in only the broadest sense, its head gone, its shoulder just an open cavern of teeth. Bethany wondered if she should take this moment to attack, but her brothers could barely keep up with its strength and she was never a fighter. So she focused on her conceal spell, making sure it masked her scent and warmth, and concentrated only on sustaining it.

The creature sniffed in the area for an agonizing amount of time, trying to get a sense of the direction she'd run off too. It circled the bush, lumbering and frustrated, always returning to where she was, investigating but finding nothing. Finally it shrieked wetly and padded off back in the direction it came, and Bethany breathed out a sigh in relief.

Shakily and as quietly as she could, she brought herself to her feet but, when she turned to run, she was frozen by a pair of predatory yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

"No, not here," Bethany stepped backwards, snapping a twig. The creature's wet growl told her that it was coming back this way but she was rooted in fright.

"You'll both serve me well."

She jerked awake, her heart still speeding, her body paralyzed. The world was still dark, the shuddering roar all around her, deafening her ears. For a moment she thought she'd been caught by the creature but she was not lying on the forest floor. No, from the smell of it, her nose was buried in rank fur.

The roar rose again, but she relaxed when she realized it was just Lucky's snore. And then her heart sank. If the pugot had been the dream, then being trapped in an amulet was the bitter reality.

"Lucky?" She pressed against his mind, which was rather weak and pliant without its walls. In fact, it felt rather alien. His eyelids fluttered open, but it was still dark and he huffed.

But instead of arguing with her or getting up, he put a strange hand on his nose and closed his eyes again. She groaned in frustration when she realized that his hand felt rather strange, skinnier and furrier and shaped all wrong. A guttural whine confirmed it.

"UNBELIEVABLE!"

Boof jerked awake, sprawling on all fours, suddenly alert at the high energy. Bethany was overwhelmed with Boof's panic. He had read her anger as some sort of attack, and she tried to reel in her emotions.

"Boof! I'm sorry."

He perked up at the sound of her voice, ears pivoting to find her.

"It's ok! It's just me."

She could feel Boof's relief, and then sudden irresistible urge to jump up and down in excitement. Though she could tell he was still confused about where she was at. His head kept darting side to side as he bounced around the room searching for her. She used his eyes to look for her brothers but it only took one glance to see she was the only one there.

Boof's eyesight had a few less colors and things seemed to be grey blue and hints of yellow. The mats had all been cleaned out except for Boof's and there was nothing but a few crates covered in tarps. As Boof inhaled the scent of the ground, she realized she could smell the difference between the rug, the soil beneath, and the scent of her brothers. But they all seemed to only have the faintest warmth. They had ditched her, which didn't surprise her in the least.

Bethany felt Boof's senses reach out for her, eagerly searching her presence for a pet. He made a slight whine. She could almost feel what he was saying, though the words were not words, more a sense of emotion that she could understand. Where are you hiding? He seemed to be confused by the sensation of feeling her but not seeing her.

She wasn't sure how to explain. How much did Boof understand what was going on anyways? She pressed against his mind. "I'm here."

Boof perked, his ears twitching as she brushed her fingers across a memory of a really good ear rub. It was like instinct. It was what she wanted to do, and suddenly she felt the tension ease from her head as she recalled a fire, from one of their family's many camping trips. She could feel Boof's memory as her own, curled in-between her skirt, hands expertly kneading the back of his ears before stroking them out to their points.

She could feel his happy groans in her throat, his whining wheezing through her teeth. His tail wagged along with his whole body as he made an excited wiggle. She could feel in all of his heart how much he missed her and he danced in unbridled joy.

Boof's mind, unlike Lucky's, was an open book to her. Good Boof had no questions of what was happening. He accepted Bethany with no fear and she didn't realize how much she needed that. She didn't realize how much she was scared of herself. If Boof recognized her, did that mean she was real?

But before he could answer that, his stomach growled. Bethany felt the guttural ache snap the pooch from his mood, as he found his new mission.

"If you find Lucky, he'll have breakfast for you."

The thought of Lucky made Boof's heart speed up. He sniffed the air, searching for him, but caught a whiff of something meaty and delicious instead. He dashed out of the tent, nose still in the air, mind determined as he set out on the hunt.

Bethany couldn't believe how different the world looked. Smells seemed to have auras around them. And she wasn't sure how Boof distinguished through them all but, as she concentrated, she could almost see the yellow trail he was following. He soon found it belonged to a large cooking spit where many elves had gathered for breakfast.

Boof made puppy dog eyes at one of the young cooks who was turning a hare dripping with fat. But, as Boof stepped close, the elf waved a stick, driving him away.

"Begone, beast!" she cried, taking a swing. Boof backed away, ears flat against his head, though Bethany could tell he was tempted to side-step the cook and try for a chomp.

"Boof, don't you dare!" Bethany yanked on his mind as if she were yanking his collar.

Boof whined, his stomach growling once again when he heard a familiar sound.

Lucky and Varric were having a conversation in the middle of the campfire, where some elves had gathered around them.

She noticed Aveline and Carver were on opposite sides of the camp, pointedly ignoring each other and eating their breakfasts silently.

Varric gave the elves an easy smile over his empty wooden bowl. "It's all about the glitz in Orlais. If it isn't glowing or covered in gold or diamond dust they'll turn up their nose and say it's uncivilized." There was something about his smile that put everyone at ease.

A woman snorted, "We're uncivilized, but Orlesians are eating rocks?" The she-elf's face fell. "Apologies. Creatures of stone don't eat rocks, do they?"

Varric laughed amusedly. " No, but I'll have to put it in my next book. Every human will start eating rocks thinking it's fine dwarven cuisine."

The group of elves laughed good-naturedly at Varric's joke, and he looked like he belonged there.

Bethany noticed Lucky was not joining in the banter like usual. He ate quietly, listening as he took in all the sights of the Dalish camp-life with an ache in his eyes.

As Boof approached, the elves quieted, eyeing the amulet on his neck warily. Boof ran right up to Lucky, with a toothy smile on his face.

Lucky immediately greeted Boof with a baby voice. "Morning bud!" He squished Boof's face together so he could pepper him in kisses.

Did Lucky forget she was in here? This felt strange. Boof's whole body wagged as he leaned into her brother, grunting happily as he wrapped Lucky's waist with his skinny arms and tried to lick Lucky's face. Thankfully Lucky was good at holding him back but tasting her brother's sweaty fingers didn't feel much better.

"How was your snooze with Bethany? Was that a nice surprise to wake up to?" he crooned.

Bethany huffed inwardly. She didn't know what her brother was thinking, leaving her on Boof. She felt weird being a dog, having big pounding paws and fur that itched and a big swinging tail that hit people.

"Lucky, you left your sister on your dog?" she could hear Aveline's cross voice.

"She was still sleeping when I woke." He shrugged as if he had given an obvious answer.

She could hear Aveline scoff, "You're aw-" but she didn't hear the rest of her reply when Lucky lifted the amulet off of Boof's shoulders.

The whole world went dark, darker than black. She blinked, but she could see just as much with her eyes shut as they were open. She had a sense of floating, of weightlessness, but no other sensation. There was no resistance, nothing solid. It was an expanse with no heat, no cold, no breeze, not even her own heartbeat. Just her thoughts, her thoughts unraveling quickly like a stray thread about to snap in half. She took in many deep breaths, counting down, trying to calm herself like her Father taught her, but her lungs took in no air and the seconds seemed to stretch on and on. She screamed, not knowing what else to do but she made no sound.

Suddenly this felt more real than all the moments with her brothers – this suffocating dark, this impenetrable loneliness that seemed to stretch on for ages. Waking up in Lucky's body and riding in an amulet seemed to be more like some sick fantasy she had concocted to escape this void. It was so familiar, this sensation, this despair.

But just as quickly as the darkness came, it was replaced with sudden warmth as a strong speeding heartbeat started thrummed in her chest. Bethany blinked, her vision blurred with images and light.

"Are you alright?"

Bethany could hear Lucky's voice and her vision sharpened to the sight of him steadying her body, but he looked so small. As the visions started to make sense, she saw that she towered over the group. She felt broad and her muscles had a strength to them that felt unfamiliar.

"It's Bethany." She could feel Carver's voice vibrating through her. His concern wrapped around her like a protective blanket, and she suddenly could breathe easier. His thoughts were muffled, like they were behind a glass, but she could taste each emotion behind them. Worry. Regret. Fear. Wariness. She could feel him weakening at her pain and she quickly tried to bottle up her emotions before she embarrassed herself.

She was as aware as Carver that everyone except Lucky looked at them uneasily. The elves that had been jovial before now only paid attention to their meals, giving side-glances at the amulet on Carver's neck.

Lucky squeezed Carver's shoulder, concern in his eyes. "How is she?"

Carver's mind seemed to shift, examining her but, unlike Lucky, she did not feel like every detail was on display with his gaze. She could compose herself, project more strength than she felt.

"The transition is…frightening," she admitted because that much was clear to him. "Just give me more warning next time."

"I'm sorry," came Carver's reply. He spoke aloud to her which was more comforting. "I knew it was stupid to leave you on Boof, but…" There was hesitation, as his thoughts suddenly shifted directions, blocking her from knowing as the overwhelming grief flooded him. "I don't know how to deal with this."

His admission was a relief. Honesty. She could handle that more than platitudes. "I don't know if anyone does. Just…don't shut me out. I can't do this alone."

Carver nodded, his neck tensing. She could feel his regret bleeding through his uncertainty.

Boof's happy grunts turned their heads. He was happily scarfing up his morning breakfast of leftover raw meat scraps.

Bethany grimaced. "At least you got me off of him before I had to eat dog food."

Carver's chuckle at what seemed to be nothing brought stares that heated his cheeks. It was difficult balancing the sensation of someone borrowing your every sense without losing track of where you were.

The elves stood and bowed their heads in unison. Carver turned to a bald elf stepping up to them, and it took him a moment to realize that this was the Keeper. Lucky stood up and bowed too, causing the others to follow him, Carver included.

When he looked back up he saw that Merrill was next to the Keeper, her many beautiful braids shaven down to a buzzed cut.

Carver tried not to stare, but she was rubbing her scalp self-consciously, not meeting any of their eyes in what looked like shame.

Bethany could taste Carver's anger on his tongue. His fists clenched at the way Merrill shrunk at everyone around her.

But if Lucky had a sense that something was wrong, he didn't show it. He broke out his signature grin and said. "Nice haircuts." Merrill froze, studying his brother's face to see if it was mockery, but Lucky's grin never wavered. "You look badass."

The Keeper's eyes flashed in annoyance. "I have shaved my hair in grief for losing my First. Merrill's has shaved hers as an acknowledgment of her banishment and shame."

"Cool, you're already a rebel. You'll fit right into Kirkwall."

Bethany could feel Carver's annoyance bubble inside him, especially when Lucky's words made Merrill form a beet red blush. Now she was gazing away shyly, biting her lip. Carver was so busy stewing he didn't realize his guard had lowered and his thoughts were slipping out and stabbing Bethany.

"You like her?" Bethany asked, her tone openly curious and only half-teasing.

"No!" Carver said aloud causing the others to look at him in confusion.

Merrill looked hurt, her big meadow green eyes watering as she looked up at Carver. "You don't think I'll fit in?"

Embarrassed heat bloomed over Carver's face as he stammered out, "That's not…What I meant was…" But his mind was blanking on an explanation, and his brother shot him a 'what the fuck' look.

Bethany could sense her brother's hesitation. His guard had lowered completely, his mind in a swirl of faltering thoughts. She could see the sentence forming on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't get it out. He was a bundle of nerves and his throat had closed up, preventing any further speech. Before she knew it, she was lending her strength, her mouth forming over the words and taking over his voice. She spoke for him, "There's no way a girl like you wouldn't stand out."

Carver blinked in shock at what he'd managed to say without tripping over his tongue, but the butterflies in his stomach weakened his knees as a bright red blush bloomed on Merrill's face, just for him. Carver thought he might throw up with all the eyes suddenly staring at him.

Bethany stood him up straight, steeled his stomach, and braced his knees. She, and the urge to smack the goofy grin off Lucky's face, were the only things keeping Carver from falling over.

Even Varric was giving Carver a discreet thumbs up.

The Keeper however was not as pleased with Carver's flirting. A look of irritation creased the gold lines of her curving vallaslin. "I do hope this means you'll take extra care to make sure she doesn't draw the wrong kind of attention."

Bethany cringed. If the Keeper wanted them to avoid attracting attention, she might be talking to the wrong family.

Carver clamped his lips sealed, his tongue feeling big and uncoordinated in his mouth.

Lucky, on the other hand, had an impish grin. His eyes had never left Carver. "We'll take extra care. In fact, Carver here will personally check in with her daily."

Carver's fists clenched, and Bethany saw the image of him wanting to wrap his hands around Lucky's throat and squeezetightly so he wouldn't say anything else.

Bethany tried to soothe him. "He's trying to help…" she offered, but she knew how awful her brother's help could be.

Merill blushed, her eyes widening. "Oh, I wouldn't wish to be a bother."

"Nonsense," Lucky waved his hand. "We're family now. Bother us as much as you want."

Merrill blinked and, before she turned her head away, Carver noticed that there was a shine to her eyes.

Why does he always have to play hero? Bethany could hear Carver's bitter thoughts.

But even Bethany flinched at how easily Lucky flung out the word 'family.'

Still they couldn't deny the comforting effect it had on Merrill. Her eyes slid to the Keeper, much more confident than before.

The Keeper's hands kept clenching and unclenching, as if she wanted to grab Merrill to stop her from leaving.

"You have everything in your bag?"

Merrill fidgeted with the burlap sack. "Yes."

"And make sure you don't spend all your coin in one day."

"I won't."

"Keep it somewhere safe."

"I will." Merrill was fidgeting more. Her cheeks reddened again, as Marethari seemed to drag the conversation on, unwilling to let Merrill leave quite yet.

"Don't ever do your magic in public, Merrill. The Templars are very vigilant."

"I understand, Keeper." Merrill's voice was still polite but growing shorter.

The Keeper opened her mouth to speak once more but Merrill interrupted by putting a hand on her arm, touching foreheads with the woman who had been her Mother for so long. "Don't worry so much. You raised me to be strong. I can do this."

The Keeper frowned, her eyes glistening. She blinked, before pulling Merrill into a hug. "I know." She closed her eyes as Merrill returned the hug. "But also know you can always come back home, da'len."

Carver turned his eyes away, feeling that this moment was rather private.

Merrill stiffened, and then pulled away, a strained smile on her face. "Dareth Shiral, Keeper."

The Keeper placed a hand on her shoulder. "May Mythal light your path."

Ma nuvenin- As you say

Dareth Shiral - Safe Journey

Chapter 6 -Home

Carver didn't seem surprised when the elves brought out blindfolds and rope to bind them again for their journey back to Varric's car. The ropes seemed extra tight this time and Bethany's heart sped up with Carver's as they were returned to darkness.

Her thoughts returned to the void, but she focused on the feeling of his armor rubbing against his skin, the smell of the damp soil and sap carried on the wind, the little glimpses of light and shadow dancing beneath the blindfold, the sounds of their footsteps crunching against rock. She was not back in the void, she was in her brother's head. Not that it was much of a comfort.

The march back was mostly silent, which wasn't for lack of trying. Lucky and Varric had tried to start a conversation with Merrill, or one of the other elves, or each other, but they were quickly hushed. Occasionally the elves would give orders to each other, but only in elven. It seems they had decided Lucky and his friends were enemies after all.

Carver and Bethany had idle conversations that started and stopped awkwardly. They were just words to fill the time. It made Bethany feel lonelier. She was in her brother's head and yet she felt farther away than ever.

"Lucky tells me of an expedition. I'm guessing Kirkwall wasn't what Mother expected," Bethany said, fumbling for a topic. She remembered the stories about Kirkwall. It was the place where her parents fell in love, where part of her heritage was. It was a place she dreamed about in childhood, and yet now she could have none of it.

"I want to go back to Fereldan," Carver sighed, wiping some sweat off his brow with his bound hands. It was a weird feeling being so strong. Carver was so much bigger than she remembered. "The humans are bigger bigots in Kirkwall if you can believe it. Lucky's only trying to make this work because it'll make Mom happy, but the Blight's done. We can go home."

"Lothering wasn't destroyed?"

Carver's thoughts stopped for a second, and all Bethany could sense was pain. When they started again, she could feel his unease. "There's nothing left. I got some messages from friends. The land will be poisoned for centuries."

"And all my friends think I'm dead," Bethany realized, suddenly feeling much lonelier.

"At least Mom will know. It hasn't been the same without you. Mom… She's kind of lost without you."

Bethany didn't know how she was going to face that conversation. Her mind raced at all the different possibilities, but she felt Carver's calming presence. It was the closest thing to a hug that Carver could give her, and she ached to have his real arms around her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I think she'll be happy you're back."

"Will it? Or will I hurt her like I'm hurting you and Lucky?" She tried to stem this thought stream but it was already pulling away from her like this unyielding tide. "Is it really worth it? To live like this?"

"Lucky told me he'd do it again," Carver said darkly. She could tell he didn't know how to feel about that. "He thinks he can somehow track the Witch down and force her to tell him how to put you back into a body, but…" She could tell Carver didn't want her to feel like he was doubting Lucky's chance at success. She was scared for Lucky, just like he was. They knew their brother, knew he might take risks others would know not to, if it meant saving her.

Bethany wasn't sure how to handle everything. The guilt was swallowing her and she could feel herself slipping into despair.

"I won't give up either, Beth," Carver told her. "Lucky is not your only brother. It's not all on him. We'll figure this out one way or another. And we'll stay at it as long as it takes."

"If I was gone, you would just be able to move on with your lives."

"We don't want to," Carver said firmly. "None of us want to move on. It hurts too much living without you. I'm sorry, but please don't give up, not yet. We need you."

Then the march stopped. Carver's hands were jerked and untied. He waited no more than two seconds before he ripped the blindfold off, not bothering to suppress his annoyance.

"Well it's been interesting, fellas." Varric gave his usual smile as he eagerly took Bianca from an elf.

"Good luck on your next book." The elf gave Varric a relaxed smile.

Carver was surprised that the dwarf had managed to make some friends through this.

Merrill stood meekly, the elves already gathering to leave without even a farewell. A blonde haired, green eyed elf with no vallaslin lingered, with a regretful look on his face. "Good luck, Merrill."

Merrill smiled, and it seemed to be relief in her eyes. "Keep the others safe, Pol."

He smiled and nodded before hurrying to return to the others. Merrill's face smoothed into a smile so bright it made Carver's heart flutter. She looked at Varric's car with a sparkle in her eyes.

Varric had given his car a thorough inspection and frowned to see that there was mud caking the hubcaps. "Alright, you know the drill. Weapons in the trunk." Varric started to wave everyone over.

"So this is a car. It's quite shiny." Merrill's eyes slid over the car, practically popping in excitement.

Bethany felt the same wonder. She didn't recognize the design but it screamed expensive.

"Varric's…not a criminal…is he?"

"I think he's a businessman." Carver gave the faintest shrug. "We just met him yesterday."

"Lucky failed to mention that."

Carver withheld his groan. "Of course he did."

"Soooo," Lucky slid next to Aveline, who was carefully placing her templar shield in the trunk. There was a glint of mischief in his mismatched eyes. "It seems like it might get kind of crowded. Maybe I could sit in your lap?"

Aveline rolled her eyes and Carver tried not to feel bitter about the hurt that flickered across Merrill's face.

"That's not happening." Aveline then climbed in the front seat and slammed the door.

Lucky's face fell for a moment before he flashed Carver a cheesy grin. "Or Merrill, you can sit in Carver's." Heat crept up Carver's face and he felt like he was burning up. He returned his brother's amused chuckle with his cruelest glare, but that only made Lucky grin wider.

"Oh…is that…really necessary?" Merrill stammered out as she gripped her staff. She was beet red, clearly as embarrassed as Carver was.

Bethany felt Carver's fist clenched, as he imagined knocking out one of his brother's teeth.

"That'll only make things worse," she said, feeling his resentment. She felt bad, perhaps he was just imagining violence, but her brothers were not above coming to blows and she would rather not be in the literal middle of that.

Varric chuckled, taking Merrill's staff from her and putting it in his trunk. "Easy, Hawke. Don't make Daisy wilt on the first day."

"Fine, Boof will get my lap." Lucky bent over and squished his dog's face. "Best seat in the house."

Boof barked and happily and climbed on top of him, licking his face as Lucky surrounded him in a hug. Lucky laughed, baby-talking his hound as he stroked him.

Carver could barely take his eyes off Merrill and, even when he wasn't looking at her, there was a clear picture in Bethany's mind of her. Carver was so much worse at guarding his thoughts than Lucky, or maybe it was the fatigue of trying to keep the barrier up. She could feel how tired her brother's mind was, how irritated, overworked, and frustrated. His shields were brittle, thoughts stabbing her as his irritation with their brother mounted.

Lucky took a window seat because of course he did. Varric had rolled down the window so Boof could throw half his body out. Now Carver had to sit next to Merrill, which Bethany knew Carver wanted, but the actual prospect of it seemed to be paralyzing him.

"Why don't you just talk to her?" Bethany asked, because it was driving her nuts as much as it was Carver. She almost missed the long silences of Lucky's head where she could pretend she was alone. This was like being in a crowded hallway except all the voices shouting at her were Carver's. She had no idea how deep his anxiety ran.

Carver stiffened, closing up his walls, but they were thin, more akin to windows. "I'm not Dad, or Lucky…or you," he whispered bitterly. She could feel how inadequate he felt, how at the thought of speaking to Merrill made his throat tighten.

"But that's not who you need to be," Bethany told him, actually grateful to be focusing on something mundane since her awakening.

Carver was about to climb into the car, but he tensed as Merrill got close.

"You should take the window seat," he blurted. It sounded more like a command than a suggestion.

Merrill peeked inside, suddenly looking nervous. "Are you sure? It looks like it might be a tight squeeze for you."

Carver clambered in, half to demonstrate, half to flee from her presence. He had to duck his head so he wouldn't hit the ceiling and his knees almost came to his chest but he tried to look as dignified as possible when Merrill tucked in after him.

Her eyes peered over the seats with an appreciative view. As she climbed in her arm brushed Carver, and Bethany tried to ignore the rushing beat of his heart having Merrill so close.

"Hey Junior. You mind buckling Daisy in?"

Carver bristled at his new nickname, but that wasn't the only reason he was hesitating. Bethany could feel his thoughts short-circuiting at the idea of reaching over Merrill. He looked over to find her already staring, with such an intense gaze he thought he'd fall into the depths of her eyes and crash and Bethany would feel every break.

Carver hadn't realized it, but he had not answered anyone and the car had shifted into an awkward silence.

Lucky nudged Carver. "Dude, just do it."

Carver glared because he wanted to die. He was panicking. Bethany tried to gently urge him but getting close to Merrill disoriented him, like he was a fork in a garbage disposal.

It didn't help that Merrill was looking absolutely adorable playing with the seat belt, fascinated by how it was put together. "Oh, what does this button do? I press it and it does nothing."

Before he knew it Bethany's guiding hands were leading him. "You can do this."

Carver jumped as his arms moved on their own, gently taking the strap from Merrill's hand. Touching her stole Carver's voice, and Bethany not knowing what else to do, took over again.

"It goes like this," Bethany spoke for Carver.

She waved with the buckle. "This fits into this latch and that button you're pressing releases it." She demonstrated with the clasp pointing to each feature as she explained.

Carver's fingers brushed Merrill's thigh as Bethany rooted out the other half, keeping Carver's fingers from shaking as she clicked the seatbelt into place and then released it again, giving both parts to Merrill so she could do it herself.

Merrill seemed delighted at the chance to be able to try, and Bethany could feel Carver's heart melt at the overjoyed expression on Merrill's face as she managed to click the pieces into place.

"I did it!"

Then Bethany froze as she realized what she'd done. She was so used to helping others, she'd forgotten she wasn't actually sitting next to Merrill. She was riding Carver's body. Like an abomination.

A feeling of horror sunk in, and she released Carver's body. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

She could tell Carver was spooked, as he connected the dots. The happy look on Merrill's face, both times, had only been because of Bethany. Her help had only made him feel worse, especially with Lucky giving him that cheesy thumbs up.

"Let's just move on," Carver muttered.

Bethany slunk into herself determined to do nothing more with her time but stay out of the way. Still the dread was creeping up with the anxiety. If she was taking over people's body's at will, how different was she from a demon? She wished she had never woken up.

Merrill bit her lip as she struggled to connect why Carver looked cross. "I'm sorry to be a hassle."

Carver jumped, his words fumbling for a response. "You? A hassle?" He tried to think what Lucky would say and, this time, Bethany was determined to do nothing.

The words tumbled clumsily from Carver's mouth but he managed to say, "You can hassle me any day of the week."

Merrill looked confused as Lucky groaned. "Why would you want that?"

What little confidence he had was shattered in Lucky's laughter. "Trust me, Merrill. He wants it."

Carver glowered. "You both need to stop helping," he muttered under his breath.

The car started, shuddering to life as Varric inserted the keys and causing Merrill to squeak.

Aveline leaned over to Varric. "Hey, don't go fast. This is her first time in a car after all."

"I don't understand how we'll get through the trees." Merrill looked around for the trail they'd come in on.

"We make our own trails, Daisy." Varric grinned, lifting the wheel as the car suddenly became weightless. Their backs were thrown to the seat as the car careened into the sky, though much slower than before.

Merrill widened her eyes. She laughed breathlessly, her head pressing against the window. "What kind of magic is this?"

"Anti-gravity rune-tech, a dwarven specialty," Varric explained, as he looked at them from the rear-view mirror.

Boof scrambled into Lucky's lap, his tail hitting Carver's face as he gazed out the window.

Carver forced Boof into a sitting position with the press of his hand but there was no stopping that wagging tail from hitting his stomach.

Bethany felt awe as she saw the clouds were close enough that they could touch. She wished she could reach out and grab a handful to take with her.

"Do you want to try?" Carver asked. "I can hand you to Lucky."

Bethany looked wistfully as Merrill's and Boof's heads stuck out the window, but she would have to face that darkness.

Carver's heart sped up at the thought, feeling Bethany's anxiety.

"No," she replied. "I'm happy looking."

Carver didn't argue, but even as he tried to focus inward on Bethany he kept sneaking glances at Merrill's backside. Merrill seemed to be enjoying the view and so was Carver.

He laced his fingers into Boof's fur, rubbing the dog's tailbone so that he groaned happily.

For a moment Bethany could pretend that this was natural. Boof's warmth beneath her fingers seemed real enough and her stomach fluttered and lurched as the car jerked in the sky.

As they got closer to the city, nature retreated, surrendering to massive jutting structures that angled through the sky, almost defying gravity. Bronze statues of starved slaves held pillars on their backs as part of the foundation.

Mother always said that Kirkwall had its own beauty, but Bethany couldn't see that at all. It reminded her too much of the Black City itself, the way the smog seemed to surround Kirkwall in an oppressive haze. Still, it was her only hope of a home left.

Varric kept towards the skyline, skimming the upper structures where clubs and penthouses all made their home in the clouds. The ocean coast was visible as far as the eye could see. And there were a few other cars up here as well, though they were much more colorful and noisy looking than Donna.

One bright-yellow convertible with lit up lightning stripes pulled up close enough to Varric so they exchanged a wave. Even up here, it was not safe from the stream of commercials selling luxury and fame, taking up whole sides of buildings. It was hard not to be dazzled by the dizzying array of colors.

Lucky nudged Carver, pointing to a woman wearing nothing but sunglasses and sipping a martini in a lounge on her rooftop pool. "We're going to live like that one day, just you wait."

Carver snorted, rolling his eyes.

Bethany knew lounging around all day around shiny things you had to be careful not to get dirty or break was not Carver's idea of living. But she felt a wistfulness, realizing she might not ever have the luxury of feeling the sun on her own skin anymore.

Merrill's eyes were wide and her mouth slightly open as she inhaled every new sight and sound. "Mythal'enaste, I've never wanted to be a bird more."

Lucky jumped up in his seat. "I can help with that."

Merrill looked intrigued, which twisted Carver's gut.

"Let's get through today, Lucky," Carver muttered to him.

Bethany agreed that Lucky shouldn't be encouraging Merrill to do more magic. They had grown up on stories of the famed vigilance of the templars of Kirkwall.

Varric pulled the car lower once they were out of Hightown's skyscrapers. Lowtown was visibly marked by being several hundred feet lower than Hightown, as the name suggested. The streets were noticeably less maintained, and covered in far more trash. The bridge that connected Hightown to Lowtown was the only structure they bothered to manicure, and the cement started to crack only a few feet from the border's edge. Layered graffiti decorated every surface. The buildings were much less modern, some with only the basics of plumbing and electricity, and many Lowtown's historic buildings looked the same as they did centuries ago.

Bethany thought the cities in Fereldan had looked quaint, though if you weren't careful you'd step in dog shit. Here it seemed even human shit was on the streets, or least it smelled that way. Her parents had put a rather rosy tint on their descriptions of the Kirkwall. Perhaps Hightown could be considered beautiful in a way, but every street corner in Lowtown seemed to have problems with neglect, streets cracking, trash building up in forgotten piles, even some of the traffic lights failed to work properly and cops directed the flow of the city with bright orange vests.

As they reached closer and closer to the shore, the buildings continued to get shabbier, and the people were dressed markedly less colorfully with gruffer expressions.

Merrill's eyes turned glossy as she saw the beggars and refugees with duct tape on their shoes, layered in ripped clothes, covered in dust and mud and sporting battle wounds and amputations. She saw one mother with her child huddled on the stairs, both thin and with sunken cheeks as they held up their cardboard sign. "Anything helps."

"Those people look so desperate. Why does everyone walk by them?" Merrill asked quietly, her fingers nestled in Boof's neck.

"Most of them can't even help themselves," Carver finally answered. "The truly desperate live in Darktown."

Merrill looked up at him, fear in her meadow green eyes. "Is that where I'm going?"

"Never," Varric barked from up front. He gave a backwards glance. "I can't promise you a ritzy place in Hightown, but you'll have a roof and a bed and working a/c."

"I don't know what that is," Merrill responded.

Varric turned over the market and started to make his way down to merge back into regular traffic. "It kind of controls how cold the air is inside your house. Necessary for Kirkwall summers."

"You have magic that lets you control the weather in the house? Fascinating. How does it work?" Merrill pinched her chin with her fingers in thought.

People were staring, pointing upwards at the car as it tried to bully its way into a lane.

"You make it sound so magical. It's pretty mundane technology." Even Aveline managed to smile at Merrill's infectious joy.

"Is technology not magic by another name? So far I've seen buildings so high that they touch the heavens and a garden of color on every other street and cars that fly like birds. How is this place not magical?"

Bethany recalled Hightown's splendors and had to agree that perhaps this would have been a wonderful place to grow up, even if parts of it did look like places conjured up from the depths of her nightmares.

Carver agreed inwardly. "And you haven't seen it at night."

Driving down on the streets seemed so much slower, but flying had them forget just how massive these stone walls were. The streets mimicked Dwarven structures including the huge wall that served as a checkpoint of the alienage from the rest of Kirkwall. A lazy guard with red hair checked inside the cars ahead of them, asking the same questions. There was only one guard for both lanes of traffic so they were stuck sitting, waiting for the inspections to move along.

"So through those gates will be home," Varric pointed.

"Elgar'nan. Is this really where the elves live?" Merrill looked through the big open iron gates, feeling the new tension in the air. They looked hefty enough to withstand a siege. "Am I allowed to leave?"

"You're welcome to explore any public space in Kirkwall." Aveline gave Merrill a welcoming smile.

"As long as you don't mind the daily frisk," Lucky muttered.

Aveline narrowed her eyes at him. "It's for everyone's protection."

"Sure," he drawled back sarcastically, meeting her glare with only a hint of a smirk. "Everyone's."

Bethany found it was hard not to stare at Merrill, since Carver could barely keep his eyes off her. She wondered what a life Merrill must have had, free from the shackles of human rules. She didn't understand why someone free would choose this life.

Merrill kept her fingers threaded through Boof's fur, fidgeting with him as he leaned into her. She seemed a nervous girl already, but the tension in her body was visible as she stared at the huge gates surrounding the alienage, reinforced steel caging the elves in.

Soon enough Varric pulled up to the Guard at the toll, a rather large man with red shaggy mutton chops and droopy eyes. He yawned as he stared into the car, clearly looking impressed at the sheen. He looked at Varric quizzically. "What business does a dwarf have in the alienage?"

Varric gave the guard an easy smile. "I'm just taking a friend home."

The guard peered into the car, eyeing both Carver and Lucky suspiciously. But he zeroed in on Merrill, whose long ears were readily apparent on her newly shaved head.

Merrill froze immediately under his gaze, then backed up in her seat, where Boof crowded over her protectively.

"The Dalish? I've never seen her around."

"She's new in town," Varric explained.

"Has she gone through the proper background inspection?" Merrill seemed aware that the guard was staring suspiciously at the marks on her face, which were now tinged red with the flush of her skin.

Bethany could feel Carver's anger spike protectively but before she could even think to stop him Varric snapped at the guard.

"Hey, do you know who I am?"

The guard blinked, surprised at Varric's tone, and then glared back. "Should I?"

"If you want to keep your job you might. Or does your boss want you to know that you've insulted the character of a friend of the Dwarven Merchant's Guild."

At the mention of the guild, the guard immediately dropped his sneer.

Aveline intercepted, placing a hand on Varric's shoulder. "Guardsman, I'll make sure her paperwork gets filed properly. You can be at ease."

He sniffed defensively, staring between Varric's glare and Aveline's apologetic face. "I'm just doing my job."

"Then please do." Varric smiled patiently, tapping his finger on the wheel.

The guard looked away, raising the gate with a button to let them on through.

As they drove through the gates, Lucky whistled appreciatively. "That was badass, Varric."

"Try unnecessary. It was a routine question," Aveline muttered.

"Should it be, though?" Lucky scoffed, causing the two of them to exchange a glare.

"Thank you, Varric," Merrill nodded, the relief palpable on her face. "I thought that man was going to take me away."

Varric winked at Merrill through the rearview mirror. "No one's going to mess with you on my watch, Daisy."

The elves all along the streets turned their heads at the shiny car, which looked out of place next to brown mud and grey buildings. Merrill's eyes seemed to light up when she saw the other elves, but both Bethany and Carver had an urge to hide their ears. The alienage was not a place Lucky and Carver exactly avoided, but they often felt out of place there. Humans often didn't notice that they were elf-blooded, but other elves spotted it as if it were a zit on their noses. And, while some elves didn't care, others would rather not be reminded that people like the Hawkes existed.

By the time they had gotten to a tall stacking apartment building, they had drawn a small crowd wondering what a nice car was doing in their little haven in Kirkwall. Varric pulled into a cramped parking lot, almost too small for his wide car to fit into, but luckily no one else was parked.

Varric killed the engine and said, "So the owner of this building owes me a favor, and I think I can convince her to waive your rent until you can find a job. I have some stuff in storage I'll pull out that you can use to help fill the space until you get some of your own things."

Merrill's happy smile didn't reach her eyes. They were wide with worry as she stared at the building. "Ma Serannas. I'm very grateful but…I have no idea what rent is or how to find a job or how to even repay you."

"One thing at a time, Daisy. First let's get you settled," Varric smiled and got out of the car.

Boof jumped out to run a circle around the car, when Merrill opened the door. Her skin was flushed from her forehead all the way down to her shoulders and she felt the stare of the crowd. They broke out in whispers, as she stepped out after Boof.

"Is that Varric Tethras?"

"Is she Dalish?"

"Why is she with him?"

Lucky hopped out, stretching lazily. Boof circled him with a happy pant.

Bethany knew Carver hated crowds and for a second she thought he might stay in the car but, with some difficulty, he eventually clambered out. He joined everyone else as they gathered their things from the trunk.

Aveline looked at Varric. "After she sees her room I think I should register her at Viscount's Palace so things are official."

"Hey, it's her first day in Kirkwall. Maybe we should go easy on the girl," Varric argued.

"She'll need proper identification if she's going to walk through Kirkwall freely. Today's my day off so I can go with her." Aveline had a look on her face that said she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"I don't mind," Merrill piped up. She seemed uneasy but resolute. "There's still a lot of the city I want to see." She looked at Lucky, and went to tuck some hair behind her ear before she realized there was no hair to tuck and looked more embarrassed. "Will you come with me?"

Bethany could feel Carver's heart stab with envy at the shy hopeful way Merrill looked at Lucky.

Lucky smiled back. "I'd love to show you, but I'll have to take a rain check. Carver and I should take Bethany home." He looked over at Carver, and Bethany could see the sadness in his eyes as he said the word 'home'. Mother. How would they even talk to her?

Merrill's smile faltered for a moment before shining even brighter. "Of course. Please tell your sister to take care. I'll make sure to watch out for rain as well."

"Thanks," Lucky grinned, not bothering to correct her phrase confusion. "But we'll be sure to give you the grand tour later. Kirkwall has a lot of hidden gems."

Merrill immediately perked up. "Oh, I'd love that."

"You should both stop by the Hanged Man, foo," Varric looked at Lucky. "I might have lost a bet but you still owe me a story."

Merrill looked horrified. "They hang people? In the streets?"

"It's a tavern, a place to hangout and get drunk," Lucky explained with a grin. He then winked at Varric. "Speaking of, don't you owe me one, Varric?"

Varric rolled his eyes. "Alright. I guess one round."

Aveline placed a hand on Lucky's shoulder, and Bethany was surprised at the softness in her eyes. "Good luck."

And then Varric led Merrill into the apartment building, Aveline guarding their backs.

The walk from the alienage to Gamlen's house in Lowtown was not as long as Bethany thought it would be. This area of Kirkwall was so rundown the streets were filthy with debris, and the buildings were caked with graffiti and gang signs and the occasional street mural. Bethany imagined her parents walking down these very same streets, getting into all kinds of mischief. She recognized some of the buildings from their stories, like the karaoke club where they had shared their first kiss. She wondered what it would have been like to grow up knowing these streets. Would they feel like the home she ached for?

Bethany felt Carver's pounding heart as they lurked in the doorway of what was supposed to be her Uncle's apartment.

Lucky also seemed reluctant to go inside.

The brown wood of the shack's door was chipped and the bottom had started to rot. Even from here she could smell the old cabbages that Lucky had reported the house to have. It was such a strange smell, even in the midst of the other offending smells that Kirkwall offered.

Carver looked over at Lucky. "Do you know what you're going to say to Mom?"

Lucky sighed, his usual confidence visibly fragile. "We tell her the truth. What other choice do we have?" Then with his hesitation gone, he opened the door.

Immediately Bethany saw her Mother looking so much older, with more gray than black in her hair, her body frail and skinny like she was starving herself. She turned her head from the couch where she had the TV on, but seemed to be barely watching. Her eyes were rimmed red, and her usual neat hair was not smoothed in a braid or ponytail. In fact, it didn't look like it had been combed in days.

Her shoulders dropped in relief, her hands clutching her phone. She still picked herself up from the couch with grace as she turned off the TV, the silent fury in her movements. Her head snapped back at them and even Bethany shrank at her Mother's tear-filled gaze. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Not even a text saying, 'I'm safe and alive and won't be home for dinner?'"

"Sorry, Mom," Carver and Lucky said in unison, their heads hanging low.

"You better be sorry! I didn't get a wink of sleep."

Carver looked over at Lucky waiting for him to take the lead.

Instead Lucky sagged his shoulders and said, "I need a drink." Then he walked past his Mother and towards the kitchen.

Leandra's face twisted in fury. "If you think you're going to walk away from this conversation-"

Lucky opened the cabinet pulling out a cheap whiskey and a bottle of the good wine. "You're going to want a drink, too, Mom."

Bethany felt speechless looking at her Mother. She would normally always be dressed before ten but it was way past noon and she was still in pajamas. Her cheeks looked so hollow, the tawny beige of her skin was paler, and there was a darkness under her eyes that made her look drained of life.

"What happened to her?" Bethany found herself asking, but Carver didn't need to answer. Her Mother wore her heart-sickness on her sleeve.

Leandra turned to Carver with a scowl. "You might think you're a big man at nineteen but you still have to explain yourself to your Mother."

"We're nineteen now?" Bethany asked.

"Yeah, our birthday was last week. You just missed it." The thought caught Carver off-guard. Aveline, Leandra, and Lucky had tried their best to make it a good birthday, but trying to celebrate without Bethany by his side was too much. He ended up walking out in the middle of blowing out his candles. And now Bethany was here, his only wish now came true, and he found himself overwhelmed. Before he knew it his Mother was cupping his face wiping tears from his eyes.

All the fury was gone from Leandra's face. She dragged his head down to her height and pressed his forehead against his. "Baby, baby. What happened? You never cry."

Carver turned his head away, his cheeks burning as he sniffed and quickly wiped away the evidence. He was still reeling from Bethany's emotions.

Bethany felt soothed by her Mother's touch, Carver's tears her own. "I didn't think I'd ever feel her wipe away my tears again."

Carver looked back at his mother, still waiting for an answer. Lines of worry and stress were etched deeply into her face.

Bethany could feel the loss in his heart, still bleeding. Suddenly she wished she could hug her brother and her Mother and tell them it would be okay. Even if she wasn't sure that was the truth.

Before she knew it, Carver was wrapping his arms around his Mother, holding their Mother's small frame so her neck was tucked at his shoulder. It wasn't the same. Bethany had never held someone like this, never felt like she could break someone in half if she squeezed too hard, never felt the stretch in her neck and back as she bent down, but they burst into tears and broke down in their Mother's arms, feeling the warmth of her love.

Bethany missed this. It wasn't the same without their Father, but it felt like color had come back to her life, like a piece of herself was returned, and she clenched her Mother tight as she trembled.

Their Mother cradled Carver, rubbing his back and shushing him. "Baby…I'm here. Take your time."

"I'm just happy," he managed to choke out.

She pulled away, a little confused but smiling. "I knew you'd get the job. Maybe you should take a day off, Carver. You look stressed."

"No it's not that," Carver stepped back. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand trying to figure out how to say this.

"So you didn't get the job?" She looked more confused and turned to Lucky who was drinking whiskey from the bottle.

He had a grim look on his face and his leg was bouncing nervously. "No, we got the job."

Leandra smiled. "Is that why you poured my good wine into my expensive glasses?" She walked over to the end table and picked one glass up.

Lucky forced a smile. "Mom, it's better than that. I…" His eyes drifted to Carver who clenched his teeth. This was either going to go really well or…

"I brought back Bethany."

Leandra's eyes went wide and her face went still and unreadable. She turned to Carver who only nodded as he watched. Then tears pricked her eyes and she put down the glass, now forgotten. "W-where? Where is my baby?" She turned towards the door, her hands wringing, waiting for Bethany to walk through.

Lucky grimaced, standing up. "Mom now don't freak out but-"

She snapped her head back towards him. "Where is your baby sister? Why isn't she with you?"

"She's with us right now," Carver stepped forward. He placed his hand over the amulet, "right here."

Leandra's face dropped, eyes glinting in anger. "This isn't funny, you two. I thought I told you to throw that thing out."

Carver gripped the amulet protectively feeling the grooves of the ruby against his palm. "Mom, it's not a prank." He then began to lift the amulet from his neck. "Just talk to her. You'll see."

Suddenly she looked horrified. "What are you talking about?"

Lucky took a steadying breath. "I wasn't able to get her body back, but I managed to save her soul."

"Save… her…" Leandra's face paled.

Carver stepped forward, his heart thudding. He could see his Mother on the edge of breaking and Bethany wasn't sure this was the right time to push but she found herself paralyzed to do anything. "Just wear the amulet. Talk to her, Mom. You'll see."

Leandra's eyes fell to the amulet as Carver tried to lift it off his neck.

"No," Leandra shook her head, her eyes never leaving the amulet. "No, no, no, no, no, no. You've been bewitched. My baby is with the Maker."

Lucky went to his Mother, trying to bring her back to calm by placing his hands on her shoulders. "Mom, I'm going to make things right."

"Like you did the first time?" Leandra snapped causing Lucky to recoil as she grabbed his arms and shook him. "You stupid child, now you're cursed! You threw away your soul for what? A demon?"

Bethany felt like she had been punched in the gut. A demon? She might as well be. Was she even a person in any sense of the word?

"No, Beth, don't think like that," Carver said, cupping the amulet in his hands.

"Are you…talking to it right now?" Suddenly Leandra pushed Lucky away to storm up to Carver who still was holding the amulet protectively.

"Give it here," Leandra demanded in a dangerous tone. Her hand was outstretched, and her other hand on her hip as if she were scolding young children.

Carver looked at Lucky for help, his eyes pleading. Lucky stepped closer.

"Are you going to talk to her?" Carver asked.

Leandra snarled. "I'm going to throw it into the ocean like I should have done in the first place!" She offered her hand to Carver who took a step back. "Give it here."

"Mom, calm down," Carver breathed anxiously.

"Don't tell me to be calm!" she screeched. "You've brought a demon into our home, you foolish boy! Now give. Me. The amulet."

Bethany's tears overflowed Carver's eyes at his Mother's words and he looked to Lucky to figure out what to do as he clutched the amulet to his chest.

Carver turned to Lucky, silently pleading with him to do something, his own words lost. He watched his brother grit his teeth, stepping in between them. "Mom. Don't be hasty. The Witch kept her word for good or ill. Your daughter is alive and still needs you."

Leandra sucked in her breath as if she was hit. Angry tears stung her eyes. "You cruel girl, my daughter is dead. And now I've lost you as well." She twisted Lucky's arm, pulling him towards the door. "Don't take my last son, too. Leave! Take that horrible demon with you!"

Lucky flinched as his Mother shoved him towards the door, her nails biting into his skin. Though tears pricked his eyes, they didn't fall. "Fine," he barked out, marching up to Carver mimicking his Mom's posture as he outstretched his waiting hand. "Bethany doesn't need to hear this."

The tears flowed freely down Carver's cheeks, his breath stuttering as Bethany lost control.

Lucky placed a hand on Carver's arm. "Take care of Mom. She'll come around."

Bethany didn't understand how Lucky could be so calm. Why was he so certain she was his sister and not actually some clever trick? Maybe her Mother was right and she was a demon that only had Bethany's memories?

Carver gripped the amulet. "Hey Beth. I have to give you to Lucky."

She appreciated that Carver remembered to warn her, though she was not sure she was ready to face the darkness again. A few moments later the sensationless void was back. Bethany floated, wondering how long she could stand the bleak black before she succumbed to madness. Her thoughts were her only semblance of knowing she was real. Her Mother's rejection stung worse than the death she had experienced. She'd rather have been dead than to see that hate and mistrust in her Mother's eyes, like she was a monster.

But maybe she was a monster.

Suddenly she was outside, walking again, her hands in Lucky's pockets. Boof was trotting at their heel, leaning into Lucky so he had a constant pressure against his leg. Bethany didn't know if Boof was doing it for her or for Lucky, but when she wanted to run a hand through his fur, Lucky's hand responded. He scratched the hound's ears, and Boof turned those warm chocolate brown eyes to face hers.

Suddenly a thought occurred to her. "Did you leave me on Boof to see if he'd recognize me? Because you, too, weren't sure I was a demon."

Lucky froze, the walls up but his heart pounding. "I wouldn't have done it if I wasn't 99 percent sure," he admitted, confirming her answer.

Though she knew it was smart to be cautious, the answer still hurt. "What if Boof's wrong, Lucky? What if you're wrong? You should do what Mother asks and break the amulet. Maybe with the Maker's Mercy I can still join Father."

The panic roiled within Lucky at her words and he tucked the amulet safely under his shirt in anxiety. "No demon I know would ask to be killed. You're Beth. I'd stake my soul on it," he said with absolute certainty.

What a terrible and odd thing to say. "Don't say such things. It's not funny."

Lucky smiled reflexively, biting back a snort of laughter. "I wasn't trying to be."