A/N: Thanks for the reviews! You have no idea how awesome they make me feel, well, if you're a writer you probably do, and of course, I have to give a shout-out ahead of time to my beta, Wynterkiss. Oh! And there are concerns that Marian is going to be too Merril-esque, but I assure you, although (even through this chapter) it may seem like it now, she'll evolve just like my Charmander. This is gonna be a relatively straight forward chapter, but it's worth mentioning that from now on I'll be marking the journal entries as past or present, actually putting numbers or dates on them seems like a good way to wind up shooting myself in the foot. If I think of a better system, so be it, but for now... Last bit, I promise, this is actually the length I intend for the chapters to be, if I can actually stick to that, well, we'll see. Read on!

Present

I am uncertain of my place here. I don't know if I fit in with these people. They're so... so... oh, I don't know, just, different. Far, far different. All I can do is keep trying though. But Fenris! Oh, I don't know how long I can deal with him, he's so- mean. When I got back to my room I cried. I held it together for a while, but no one has ever been that rude to me in my life! Isabela was right, what did I ever do to him! I'm not an idiot though, I know it's my father's fault. I have to wonder why my father would ever like someone so hostile though. He's such a gentle man and I can't seem him getting along well with Fenris. Well, maybe he wasn't always like that. If my father is- No, I know what he is, I do. I just- Ugh, this is too hard to write about. Tomorrow we're supposed to be going to the Keep to meet a woman named Aveline, and a prince! Of all things!

The day was muggy and cold. The fog hung over the buildings and an air of depression permeated the streets, though that wasn't much different from the norm in Lowtown. Isabela had expected Marian to be awake by the time she got up, but there was no answer when she knocked on her door. There had been some ruckus quite early in the morning, some idiot woke up screaming about how his skin was burning and Isabela wondered if it had frightened her badly enough to leave. That was unlikely though, it was only her second day in the city and she didn't seem like she would be that scared by something that simple.

Isabela continued her day as normal though, deciding not to worry about it. Besides, if the girl was as talented as she believed she shouldn't get into too much trouble. Unless there were Templars involved. The pirate dismissed the idea, however, assuming that Marian was smart enough not to go flinging fireballs out in public. So she headed to the bar and plopped down next to her favorite dwarf, who was spinning a tale to the morning crowd about Hawke's recent trip to the Deep Roads. Eventually, as the story came to a close, the group thinned until all that remained were Varric's die-hard fans, which he slowly dismissed as Isabela finished her morning drink.

Varric turned to her with a raised eyebrow, but didn't speak. She held her features for as long as she could before the comical value of his expression set in. "Stop that!" She scolded him between chuckles, "Or do you want me to spew alcohol all over you?"

"Yes." He answered, straight faced.

"If I were not so protective of my drink, I would take you up on that." Isabela replied over another gulp.

They shared a laugh and a friendly moment of silence before Varric moved the conversation forward, "So, things are about to get interesting, aren't they?"

"You met Marian? Lovely girl, isn't she?" Isabela asked with a smile.

"Nope. I met Fenris, when he came in here last night. I'll be honest, I never thought he could hate anyone that much, that fast." Varric shook his head, "He acted like she ate kittens and dissected babies for fun."

"That's... really fucking graphic." Isabela tilted her head and suppressed an inappropriate giggle.

"So was his rage." Varric nodded, "It was... intense. More so than usual."

"Trust me, I know. He was a total ass to the poor thing, and she hardly said hello."

"I can see that."

Isabela continued unprovoked, "I mean, I don't care what that asshole magister did, there's no reason to ever be that much of a bitch to someone you just met."

"I know, he said you laid into him."

"Damn right I did." Isabela was getting angry again, "Don't get me wrong, I love Fenris, but who the fuck does he think he is? I wanted to hit him, he was being such a-"

"Isabela!" Varric cut her off, "He said you were right. That's why he didn't argue with you."

"What?" She was truly confused.

"Yeah, after the liquor set in he was, well, the way he always is when he's really drunk, a little bit pathetic. He said that the girl hadn't ever done anything to him and he was jaded and blah blah blah. Then he sobered up and acted like he was angry at her again."

Isabela sighed, "But at least some part of him gets it."

"Yeah, at least there's that." Varric scoffed and changed the subject, "So, where is this mystery woman?"

"I... don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Nope, I knocked on her door, nothing."

"Aren't you worried?"

"Nah, and if you knew why Fenris hated her so much you wouldn't worry either."

Marian had a difficult night. She had tossed and turned something awful and when she awoke it was to a cold sweat and a nasty feeling of utter dread. Her nightmare had been about Fenris, and how painful it must have been to have lyrium burned into your skin. Marian had always been a vivid dreamer, so much so that she could feel it, or what she imagined it to be, but the pain passed when she woke up.

Those first moments were ones of heart-pounding adrenaline, but when the thumping in her ears had stopped she heard it. A man in the hallway, screaming about his skin. Marian jumped up immediately, knowing that she had to get far away from him. This happened fairly seldom at home, but it had become a regular occurrence on her travels. It was a latent affect of her training that she had no control over, when she was in the Fade her dreams would occasionally transfer to the nearest being. It usually occurred during nightmares, when her mind would reach out for help. Marian had learned that as long as she was the last one asleep and she stayed a decent distance from everyone, no one was affected, but here she didn't have much control over that.

The solution was simple though, leave the building, whatever magical connection she had with this perfect stranger would be severed. She didn't think. She shot up, swung on her cloak and hurried out, but it wasn't until she was far away from the building that she stopped walking. Maybe it was the panic, maybe she was just too busy trying to wrap her head around the subject matter, but either way, she found herself far from her new home.

As soon as she pulled her hood down it hit her, the stench of feces and despair. Her eyes were more offended than her nose however. It was all so odd, from the crumbling, decaying walls to the shoddy craftsmanship of every stairway. She took soft, hesitant steps, no longer concerned with why she was here, what she was doing, or even how she would get back. Marian simply walked. She had an inquisitive mind, all that mattered now was seeing and feeling, experiencing this new place.

She could feel eyes on her as she ran her petite fingers over the cobblestone walls, her own eyes wide with intrigue. She walked up stairs and down stairs, back and forth until she finally tired of the texture of the wood and grime and dirt. Marian had this habit of losing track of her surroundings when she was somewhere new, when she stopped touching everything she finally noticed how cold she was.

She could almost feel her lips changing color and clutched at the edges of her cloak, shivering. The reality of the situation set in with the cold. Marian was in a dangerous, unfamiliar place, with no idea how to get back to where she came from. It was dark, she was scared and alone. No, she wasn't alone. She could feel a presence approaching her and she spun to face it.

"Hey, hey now," the man spoke, "calm down, little lady, I'm not going to hurt you." He looked gruff, and dirty, and sounded specifically like he was lying. She stared back at him, hesitant to speak. "You just looked awful cold, I can help you fix that." He gave her a crooked grin.

"What?" Marian asked, stunned.

He stepped closer to her and his smell hit her nostrils, it was one of the purest forms of filth. "Just come back over here with me, I ain't gonna hurt you, promise. We can get rid of the cold in the best way possible."

She immediately stepped back, "No, thank you." She had tried to sound concrete in her answer, but the man continued to move closer.

"Oh, don't be like that, we both know you didn't wander down here for nothing, so just stop playing hard to get, love." His voice grew darker by the word.

"No, I- I don't want anything to do with you, sir." She backed up yet again, she truly believed that if she told him no again he would listen.

"Don't make this hard on either of us, please."

"You- You intend to attack me!" Marian exclaimed, naivete clearing.

"Well, not if you're willing." He shrugged and continued to advance, pulling a previously concealed blade from his waistband. Marian's heart sped, she acted on instincts that she didn't know she had. When she had dealt with the brigands on her way into the city she had simply scared them away, literally, but this was different. That was out in the open, not in the dark, and they had wanted her money, not her. The man stopped short, crippled by some unknown force, his face slowly distorting from his perverse expression to one of despair.

He looked to Marian for an explanation, for help he did not deserve. She stared back, unblinking, unflinching and merciless. Part of him knew it was her doing this, but he wasn't even sure what this was. He had thought her weak when he chose her as his victim, so young and so innocent, but the look on her face now was entirely the opposite. Perhaps that was his greatest mistake, looking at her, for the longer he held eye contact the worse the feeling got, but he wasn't strong enough to look away. He had made quite the mistake indeed. It didn't register though, none of it did. He didn't care what her face looked like or how strong she may be, and in truth, despite the fact that he was staring her dead in the eye, his mind was no longer consciously aware of her presence.

In those few moments it felt like every instant of happiness he had ever had in his life was rendered meaningless. There was nothing, no life, no hope, and there never would be. The only thing he had now was depression and soul-crushing agony. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders and all he wanted was for it to be over. There was nothing he wanted more than for it to just end.

Then, at the apex of his despair, he slit his own throat without a moment's hesitation. His fresh corpse toppled to the ground and Marian leaped back in a rather comic manner. She had already justified that not only was it self-defense, but that it wasn't her fault. He was simply weak, a stronger man could have fought it. She hadn't even broke a sweat, his will was that feeble. So she took a deep breath and tried to return to her senses. She focused on the cold air again, the feel of the ground beneath her feet, the stench and the sounds.

The sounds! "Oh, Marian! Are you there?"

"Anders! Oh, it is good to see you!" Marian's lips turned up in an instant smile. She didn't know when he had arrived or what he had seen, but there was nothing more comforting to her right now than a friendly face.

"Ah, yes... and you. I was going to step in, but you seemed to have it handled." He didn't seem entirely like himself, though she had only known him for the day. He seemed shocked, and she quickly put together why.

"Oh yes, I'm terribly sorry about that. There must have been another way to resolve the situation, I just didn't think." Marian apologized.

"No, no, don't be sorry, I just- I didn't realize that you could do... that." He was obviously surprised, but he seemed understanding enough. He fought for mages like this, ones that were persecuted for things they were born to do, for talents they never asked for.

She sighed, "I've never had to before."

"You've- are you saying that that was the first time you..." Anders trailed off, more surprised at this than the manner of the man's death.

"I'm not even twenty, Anders, how many people had you killed by that age?" She raised an eyebrow in his direction.

He coughed and avoided the question, "Uh, yes, I just didn't expect- I mean, have you ever even been in battle before?"

"Oh, of course," Marian explained, avoiding the fact that the first time she had actually been in any real danger was hardly a matter of months, "I just, I've never been the one to, well, you know. I just scare people, make them cowardly and clumsy, someone else always did the actual killing."

He nodded and smiled at her, "Will you be alright?"

"I will." She smiled back up at him, "I just- I didn't have to kill him."

"If you hadn't, I would have."

She continued, pleased that he was already willing to stick up for her to that extent, "You know, my father told me that there are two ways for us to kill a person without ever touching them, fear and despair. I'm not sure which is more inhumane." Anders listened diligently as she spoke, "He said that the first time you kill on instinct, well, that'll be your preference for the rest of your life."

"Wait," he replied, "your father intended for you to grow up to... kill people?"

Marian stared at the corpse below her before she turned back to him, "It's sure looking that way, isn't it?"

Past

Stanley. She calls herself Stanley. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with that. She's, well, I don't know, I've never met anyone like her in my life. She's a husky woman, with a voice to match. She wears long, flowing gypsy clothing, but unlike some of the other women she never shows any skin. Not that I want her to! Then there's Sally, she's a wrinkly old croon. I don't think she likes me. She said my 'stars show the truth'. Could she... know? No. No way. Oh! And I can't forget Filbert! He's a tiny little wisp of an elf, with sandy short hair and the face of a trickster, or at least he says so.

He showed me around today, then gave me a tutorial on liars. There were a lot of things to remember, and he said we'd go over it again, but I took notes! So I'll be prepared next time. I remember one thing quite vividly though. He said that if a stranger stresses that they aren't there to hurt you, they probably are. I wonder if that's true.

A/N: La-da-da-da, can you imagine what I can spin with that dream deal? I'll admit, I was hesitant about it, but I decided that hey, it's a logical step. She specializes in changing people's emotions anyway, it's not like she's a fire-breathing aardvark that suddenly has the ability to grow wings and walk on water. Side point as well, I hope I've done a good job explaining how Marian's magic works, it was kind of touch-and-go for a second there.

Alright! Enough of your rambling, Kurgs! When we return, Marian meets Aveline and Sebastian! The three, plus Hawke and the ever-angsty Fenris, head out to rescue the Viscount's son from that angry lady! Be sure to tune in! (Ugh, I don't think I'm ever doing that again...)