The twins are born on 12 Guardian, 9:11 Dragon.
The birth was a premature one - and was especially hard on Mother's body. The pregnancy itself was lined with complications. Marian blames the stress of being on the run. But, they're alive and together - which is all that matters.
They had Father's supposed 'friend' to thank for their continued survival and freedom. In the past few months, the family had been jumping from place to place, staying with different individuals who agreed to house them for short periods of time in exchange for Father's …services.
Marian tries not to think too much about the line of work Father was involved in. Or who exactly his mysterious friend was.
But things had been finally looking up - they were on their way to a more semi-permanent settlement (based on what Marian could glean from their hushed conversations) - when the twins decided to make their debut.
They were extremely lucky to have been close to civilization when Mother's water broke. Even more so when the inn Father had rushed them to happen to house a chantry sister, who was kind enough to extend a helping hand in the birth.
Marian is stationed outside the room the innkeeper had hastily shown the family to, on a wooden chair with her brother. The five year old bounces her clumsily in his arms, worrying his lip incessantly while sending anxious glances at the still shut door.
She thinks the bouncing was more for Garrett's comfort than her own. She can't help but stare up at him, marveling at his cute round face and baby cheeks. It's hard to believe that this same child would be known as the Champion of Kirkwall in the far off future.
A Champion, who - regardless of his choices - would lose his loved ones to a series of tragic events:
Malcolm, succumbing to an unknown illness. One (or both) of the twins falling to Darkspawn. Leandra, murdered by a grieving necromancer.
Not to mention Hawke himself, who has a fifty-fifty chance of being left to die in the Fade by this world's Inquisitor.
'But where does that leave Marian?' She wonders.
She still has yet to come to terms with her situation - even with all the time she had to reflect in the past months her family spent on the road.
Her existence shouldn't even have been possible. The Dragon Age series was just a fictional world in her time. Made up by a team of writers and brought to life by Computer Programmers.
This world is supposed to be just zeroes and ones.
Yet she's here all the same. Living and breathing (for now).
She is Marian - the supposed second child to the runaway apostate Malcolm Hawke and the disowned noble woman Leandra Amell. An outlier in a world where Magic and Dragons were real.
A world where Demons are capable of possessing you in your dreams. Where Undead Magisters try to play god and Archdemons start a zombie apocalypse every few decades. Where the Dread Wolf plans on tearing down the Veil and possibly destroying the world with it.
Where regular bathing and indoor plumbing was considered a luxury.
This is fucking bullshit.
She reminds herself that nothing has happened yet.
The Blight wasn't for another couple years. The Hawke family is still happy and whole. She has time to figure things out later. For now - she just has to focus on surviving.
The door opens suddenly, making Garrett jump in his seat. He stands, looking up eagerly as the Chantry Sister and Father appear from the room.
The two briefly exchange words, before the Sister nods her head and disappears down the hall.
Father heaves a sigh and runs a hand through his hair.
Garrett adjusts his hold on Marian, looking apprehensive. "Is mama ok?"
The man bends down to smile tiredly at the boy, hand coming up to clasp Garrett's shoulder.
"She's fine - just very…worn out." Father replies, taking Marian, "Come inside - It's time to meet your new siblings."
Garrett's eyes widened. "Siblings?"
'The whole gang's here at last.'
"Garrett, this is your brother and sister," Mother begins. She is resting against the bed frame, covered in sweat, face pale and blue eyes weary with exhaustion. Despite her horrid appearance, her smile is bright as she beckons her eldest son to come closer, gesturing down at the two bundles in her arms. "Carver and Bethany."
Garrett leans in close on the bed, peering down at the babes. His face scrunches up cutely.
"They're so…wrinkly"
'And small.' Marian adds privately, peaking at the twins from her place in Father's arms. 'So very small.'
The twins were swaddled together in one of Father's linen shirts, their faces red and eyes scrunched. A dark tuft of hair sat atop their heads. They were thankfully asleep - and judging by the dried stains on their mouths, recently fed too.
Marian suppresses a shudder. It was a small blessing she couldn't recall her own breastfeeding days.
Mother chuckles softly, reaching out with a hand to smooth down some unruly strands of hair on Garrett's head. "You were very wrinkly too when you were born."
Garrett makes another face, before looking up at Father and inquiring, "Mama had two? She can do that?"
"Sometimes that happens," Father explains, "Bethany and Carver are twins. They were in mama's tummy together."
"Is that why Mama was so fat?"
Father chokes, then delves into a coughing fit to hide his laughter. Mother sends him a scathing glare, mouth pulling down into a scowl.
Marian feels her chest swell with fondness at the scene. Mother begins to tear into Father as Garrett gazes cutely at the two in confusion.
She hadn't been with them long - but they were all she knew in this world.
She knows it would be better to not get attached - to keep herself at a distance. If only to avoid the future heartache.
' But…'
Her impossibly tiny fingers curl into the fabric of Father's shirt. His heartbeat is a comforting rhythm under her palms.
She stares up at him, eyes tracing the laugh lines along the sides of his mouth and the peak of his cheeks.
She recalls the way his eyes would light up with love and how his features softened at the sight of Mother and his children. How when he holds her, his grip is both strong and gentle - safe.
Marian knows this world isn't ideal. Being poor and constantly on the run sucked balls. But Marian could have done worse in the family department. Leandra and Malcolm weren't perfect parents by any means - but they loved their children.
'Nothing is set in stone anyways,' Marian thinks tentatively, as though convincing herself, 'This isn't a game anymore - these people are real. I'm real.'
The twin's begin to stir from the commotion, crying softly into each other. Mother moves to sooth them.
'This tragedy can be rewritten,' An idea forms, born from desperate hope and foolish optimism, 'Cause I'm here now.'
Garrett's face falls and twists as the twins' wails become louder, feeding off one another.
'And I won't give this up without a fight.'