The black haired girl - young woman, really - sighed, shoulders slumping as her siblings cleared the rickety wooden table in their Uncle's… house. Her mother caught sight of this and looked over with a concerned look on her face.
"Bethany, dear, what's wrong?" Leandra probed, worried about what sort of toll working with the mercenaries that her children had been indentured to was having; particularly in addition to everything they had gone through just to get to Kirkwall.
"It's just… I miss Dane. It's not -" she paused, realizing how childish the next part was going to sound before continuing anyway. "It's not fair that we went through all of that - fleeing Lothering and going through all the trouble we did to get on a boat in Gwaren for him to- to…" she trailed off, unable to bring herself to speak of him being dead even 6 months later, despite the fact there was no feasible way for him to be alive.
"Oh, Bethany… I know sweetie, but…" Leandra began to try to comfort her youngest, only to hear Carver snort. She rounded to face him. "Carver! This is your brother we're talking about; you could try to be more respectful, especially with him being…"
"What? Dead?" Carver snorted again, seeming almost... amused? She was horrified, and even more horrified with what he added. "If anyone could survive that, it's him. He probably decided not to come to the city full of Templars. Or that he had no reason to come back to an ungrateful family."
"Carver!" Leandra cried out, anger in her tone, upset with her son for being so insensitive even as Bethany began to cry. "How could you even imply that about your own family?"
"Well, it's true! It's not like he's been on good terms with any of you, - or Father for that matter! - for the last several years! Andraste's ass, Mother, I'm the only one he was able to have an actual conversation with!"
There was a crack, and Carver was gripping the back of his head as the eldest of the Hawke children scowled down at him.
"Watch your tongue, Carver, especially when you're talking to Mother. Stop trying to start fights, you're not a child." Marian ordered.
"Whatever. And who are you to tell me not to start fights? You start them all the time, like it's the only way you can get your way. Oh, wait, it is!" The warrior snarled.
"Please, that's enough! We're all tired. Let's just go to bed, and we'll feel better in the morning-" she found herself ignored as Marian retaliated.
"Oh, and you're so much better? All you do is complain! At least I try to make things better!"
"'Make things better'? You ignore the problems! That's not making things better! And when you do try to actually fix things, you make them worse! Or did you forget that the last argument you tried to break up turned into a full blown brawl?"
Leandra watch with growing distress as two of her remaining - all three of her remaining children began arguing. They were at each other's throats, shouting, crying, snarling. Her thoughts were mangled. My family is beginning to fall apart. Since when has Carver been so angry?Why wasn't Marian simply walking away, why did Carver even think that they didn't get along with Dane, and why hadn't Dane simply stayed below deck like she'd told him to-
The fighting cut off abruptly when the door swung open and Gamlen stared at the three children that were currently nearing blows. Carver stormed past him; Marian stomped into the family bedroom, slamming the door far too hard; Bethany slid back down to the ground, sobs breaking through.
Gamlen appeared to think of saying something, then, taking a look at the cracks near the door hinge, thought better of it, staggering to his room and closing the door.
XXXXX
Marian cursed, a little louder than she probably should have, rubbing the shoulder she'd just clipped on the low hanging rock. It wasn't the first thing she'd hit it on, either.
Meeran scowled at her, obviously displeased with the Hawke clans recent work- which, while still decent, was nowhere near the level of skill it had been six months or even a week ago. He watched as the girl snapped at her brother, who snarled back, actually reaching for his sword. The younger girl stepped back quickly, and it was as Marian began to reach for the daggers on her back that he realized he should break them up.
"Girl! Marian! Save it for the raiders! You too, boy!" He yelled back at them, earning a grudging backing down from both sides, one that plainly said that the issue was not dropped; which meant he had to figure out why so they would stop trying to kill each other.
Ugh… I am not a nanny. He thought disgustedly, resigned to having to deal with touchy-feely matters.
At the ambush site he grabbed the younger of the Hawke girls, earning a muffled squeak, -and Andraste's tits why were the good ones such a pain to deal with?- and demanded, "What in the name of the Maker is wrong with you lot lately! Every time I turn my back and turn back, you're either nearly at blows, trading them, or trading insults!"
The girl - Bethany, he thinks - shrinks and mutters something he can't hear.
"Damnit girl, speak up." This is the reason he does not do touchy feely- he is not good at it.
The girl seems somewhat terrified now, babbling, "You see, ser, we had- have- had- another older brother, but he went overboard during a storm when we were on the ship on the way here, and the other day we all got in a row because Carver said he probably wasn't dead and just hadn't come to Kirkwall because he doesn't like us, and Marian and him got into an argument over things being his fault and her fault and can I go?"
He stared a few moments, processing what she said before releasing her and sending her off to her post while trying to figure out what the flame to do about it. Then an arrow landed somewhere to his left and he realized that the ambush had started.
XXXXX
Five days later he had the lot of them in a room at the Hanged Man, tied to chairs as it was the only way he could think of keeping them apart from each other. He stared at the three of them, watching Carver and Marian snarl at one another, straining against the ropes, before reaching out and cracking their heads together.
"Alright," he stated addressing the dazed two and the meek girl, "That is why the three of you are in the current situation - and don't fucking say that you haven't been doing anything - so the three of you are going to shut up and listen to what I have to say. Clear?"
Three nods were his answers, two of them grudging.
"You lot are in a disagreement or something from what the little girl says, and while usually I wouldn't give a spit, it's starting to get in the way. You're arguing when we're trying to move on the sly, you're literally trying to kill one another, and it's starting to give the rest of my men the idea that I'll tolerate in-fighting. Which I don't.
"This is why you're here now. You three are going to leave your spat at home, at the bar, wherever as long as it is not on the job. If you can't you're out of the Red Irons, with no job, and you'll be paying off that contract. Understood?"
There was a pause, and surprisingly, it was the boy who spoke first, muttering, "Yeah, sure."
Marian snapped around to stare at him before grimacing and repeating his words. Bethany nodded, meek as a mouse. He unbound the lot of them, and kicked them out of the room. He had it for the entire night, after all.