Her first moments of awareness came in waves.
It was as though she was waking up from a deep slumber – her consciousness fighting against the pull of sleep. Each stirring was brief and confusing.
A blur of colors and garbled sound -sometimes there was a distinguishable face or voice. But none of which she could make sense of before the lulling waves dragged her under once more.
Eventually the gaps between her brief moments of consciousness became shorter in length.
But no less confusing.
She knew there was a woman – a slender woman of tired eyes and thick hair that spilled over her shoulders. She spoke in tongues – short and sharp words that were both foreign and familiar.
Other times – there was a man. A man with a kind smile and scruffy facial hair.
His voice was deep but soft – a low hum to accompany the woman's soothing coos. She didn't see him as much as the woman, but she always got the vague impression that the woman's mood was always more pleasant when he was around.
Finally, there was the boy. A mere babe with clumsy hands and chubby cheeks. Funnily enough, he always seemed to be towering over her.
Despite not knowing their names, or who they were – their presence comforted her. They were a constant during her waking moments.
Steadily, she gains a sense of awareness – something she had not realized she lacked. Everything had always been limited to recognition and observation. Her emotions before that point had always been raw – without restraint.
Now, she was understanding. The gibberish slowly becomes words.
The waves no longer pull her under.
She discovers that she is small. A part of her feels as though that there was something terribly wrong with that.
Moving is easier but comes slowly. Her hands jerk – fingers clumsy.
Time is key, she finds.
It is an adjustment period.
Her brain is a sponge; constantly absorbing the information around her - as a toddler's brain is made to do. It's still overwhelming, but doable.
With the adjustment comes clarity.
Rebirth.
A concept she was familiar with but not one she ever believed.
She finds that she cannot remember personal details from her previous life or even how she died - but she knows that there are distinct differences between the world of her past life and present existence.
It is as though time had been reversed. The technological advances that were a commodity in her Past were non-existent here. Her main Hypothesis is that she is in a future where the modern world she once knew has collapsed and human civilization has been reset to humbler times. It doesn't explain the weird language but it would explain her surroundings.
Her second theory is that she has lost her mind.
Regardless of the truth, she of course has an existential crisis that lasts a week - before she pulls her figurative shit together and vows not to think too much about the situation again.
From what she's gathered, the people that have been taking care of her (her new family, her mind supplies) live in a cottage of some sort, relying on a hearth for warmth and candles for light. Her diapers are made of a type of reusable linen and everything (and everyone) stunk.
So far, she hates it.
Her new name is 'Marian' but sometimes her new parents call her 'Mary'. It's pretty.
Her new mother is also pretty. But Marian thinks she would be prettier if she wasn't constantly dressed in those hideous gowns of brown, tan and gray. They hang off her mother's frame in a concerning and unflattering fashion. The skirts often end mid-calf and are always paired with the same thin and worn boots.
Her father dresses in a similar style and often leaves early in the morning, before returning at sunset looking tired and covered in dirt. Sometimes, her brother Garrett (she idly wonders if she had siblings in her past life too) whines and begs to tag along - and is promptly told 'when you're older' by father every time.
Marian's new life screams impoverished medieval commoner origins.
She resigns herself to the fact that her second chance at life will be one of hard labor and struggle. She reminds herself it could be worse.
Life as a toddler is painstakingly boring, but Marian is an easy baby. She tries not to fuss unnecessarily.
Marian spends most of her days in a sling across her mother's back while the woman tended to the house and occasionally visited the village nearby for errands.
The first time her mother took her out, she was at awe by the amount of green and untouched land that surrounded her - such a contrast to the urban environment she was so used to from her previous life.
The village was roughly a half hour walk downhill from the cottage. Their neighbors' were in similar run down style homes and were spaced far from one another. Marian suspected the majority of them were farmers going by the crude fencing and crops.
The village was small.
It had a few shops (none of which Mother would venture into), there was a run down inn and what looked like a church with a curious wooden statue of a woman surrounded by flames erected before it (mother calls her Andraste, and Marian couldn't help but feel the name was familiar) - but it was mostly homes stacked on top of one another with a large central courtyard where the surrounding farmers would set up their stalls on occasion. A noticeably nicer and larger building could be seen further off on the other side of the village - separated by tall metal fencing.
It's a tight knit community and Marian noticed many of the village occupants regard her mother with suspicion. She supposes it looks odd - to be the only non-farming family to reside outside of the village.
Her mother seems mostly unbothered by the stares. But it piques Marian's interest every time.
Despite the obvious outcast treatment, Marian always looked forward to the village visits. It's the only time she got to leave the cottage and see others outside of her family.
She keeps her ears open, eavesdropping and taking in what little she can understand around her while her mother browses various stalls. Most of the Village gossip goes right over her head, but Marian finds useless gossip is a lot more entertaining than listening to her mothers subpar bartering skills.
She was sure this was it.
This is what the rest of her second life would be like - one of an impoverished girl in a medieval village where the biggest highlight of her day was getting a good deal on potatoes.
Oh how wrong she was.
It starts with a regular shopping trip - however, this one happens not even three days after the last. Mother's appetite seems to have increased as of late.
Marian suspects the reason being due to the subtle swelling of her mother's stomach.
She is unsure how she feels about having another sibling on the way. Two children seemed like more than enough in her book. Marian is strapped to her mothers back as the woman argues over the price of carrots with the greedy man at the vegetable stall as she wonders what her new sibling would be like.
Her train of thought is interrupted when she overhears something strange.
"...Farmer Don had his…wolves, poor dear.."
"There…rats have… Elfroot ruined!"
"What…expect? King Maric…Grey Wardens…exile…"
Marian's attention perks at the last bit. She tries focusing back on the conversation - but with no luck, she isn't able to pick the voices apart any more.
It was another phrase that sounded vaguely familiar. She notices that there were a lot of those recently.
Andraste. Grey Wardens. Elfroot.
They nag at her - but she couldn't understand why.
"Mama," Garrett's hushed voice interrupts her thoughts. Marian glances down at him from over her mother's shoulder. He is huddled close to her side, hands gripping her skirts in a way that was so unlike his usual boisterous nature that it set her on edge.
"Bad peoples," he whispers.
Mother's demeanor changes instantly; her body becomes tense and the grip on her basket of produce tightens. She looks to the side, face paling at what she saw.
Marian follows her gaze and feels herself freeze up as well.
In the distance, a group of men can be seen walking through the village - three of them, all wearing armor with various weapons strapped to their back. The villagers stare and whisper as they approach.
"Templars…doing here?"
"They must be…an Apostate…"
"...don't think there…in the village?"
Mother quickly excuses herself from the stall and takes Garrett's hand - briskly walking away from the courtyard.
Garrett struggles to keep up and pleads with mother to slow down - but the woman didn't seem to hear him.
Marian's eyes stay glued to the men in armor, or more precisely - the sigil on their chest until they get too far away.
Templars. The villagers called them Templars.
Andraste. Grey Wardens. Elfroot. Templars. Apostate.
She doesn't remember the trek back home - mind still reeling - but soon the three are back in the cottage. Marian is still strapped to mother's back as the woman darts around the house, frantically gathering select items in a bag. Garrett is crying, trailing after her skirts - his desire for comfort going ignored.
The door bursts open suddenly. Garrett lets out a frightened scream and Marian flinches. Mother spins around - body rigid as though she was preparing for a fight before her shoulders slump in relief. It is father standing at the doorway with his hands braced against the frame, breathing heavily and eyes wild - his own body slumping forward at the sight of mother.
"Oh Malcolm!" she wails, rushing forward.
Malcolm. Andraste. Grey Wardens. Elfroot. Templars. Apostate.
He engulfs her in a hug, mindful of Marian who was still strapped to her back. "Leandra, we must leave. NOW. They know I'm here."
Marian is frozen.
'No..' she thinks
Leandra. Malcolm. Grey Wardens. Elfroot. Templars. Apostate.
The words play across her mind on repeat.
Father (Malcolm HAWKE) steps away and goes towards the hearth. Marian cranes her head to watch him as he bent down to tear off a floorboard. He swiftly reaches underneath and pulls out a knapsack and an odd walking stick (oh my god that's a Staff). "We are going further south. I have a friend who can help."
"Mama," Garrett sniffles, tugging on Mother's (Leandra Amell) skirts.
Mother startles at the gesture, as though forgetting he was there, before picking him up and securing him to her hip. She whispers comforting words into his ear and plants a kiss on his temple. "I'm sorry for scaring you sweetheart. Things are going to be scary a little longer - so I'm going to need you to be brave, okay?"
Garrett (Garrett HAWKE) nods, before inquiring. "Did I do good?"
Mother purses her lips. "Yes you did great sweetheart - you did a good job telling mama about the bad people, just like we taught you." she says, planting another kiss and smoothing down his dark hair.
'We're being chased. We're being chased because of Father.' Marian realizes and suddenly all the missing pieces come together. Her mothers standoffish nature. Her and Father's reclusive home outside of the village - away from prying eyes. Their tendency to keep to themselves. 'Father is Malcolm Hawke - runaway Apostate.'
Malcolm. Leandra. Templars. Andraste. Grey Wardens. Apostate. Garrett. Marian.
GARRETT. HAWKE. THE FUTURE CHAMPION OF KIRKWALL.
"I have everything," Father interrupts, knapsack fastened to his back and his staff secured in his other hand. Mother nods her head to the bag she had dropped. Father grabs it without a word - and just like that, they were out the door.
Marian watches, still strapped on her mother's back, as the cottage that was her entire world up until that day fades off into the distance.
'This isn't fair,' she thinks, chubby hands desperately reaching towards the shrinking cottage - towards the life she thought she was going to have - a life not lined with tragedy, 'This shouldn't be possible. This world isn't supposed to be real!'
Her name is Marian, but it wasn't always. Once upon a time, she lived another life with a different face. Went by a different name and had a different family.
None of which she could remember, of course.
But in this life, her name was Marian Hawke – born to Malcolm and Leandra Hawke and second oldest amongst her siblings.
She isn't supposed to exist.
But she does.
'There are only supposed to be three Hawke children - so what the fuck am I doing here?'