2/24/15

"Andraste's flaming sword! I know where babies come from!"

Marian snickered at Alistair's blow up to Wynne's coddling. It was endearing. She even managed a whistle on the road to Recliffe, smiling. Somehow, she'd managed to let everything go but their mission in the last few days. Must have been something about fighting a bunch of cursed shape-changers that put life in perspective. It could be worse. She just had to worry about darkspawn and archdemons. For now. The hardest part was going to be appealing to Denerim. If she had another candidate for the throne maybe it would be easier, but heirs to Cailan or Maric were not dropping out of trees.

Which is why when Alistair pulled her and Morrigan aside, the last thing Marian was expecting was him to admit to being Maric's bastard son. She actually doubled over in laughter. "Alistair, sweet Alistair, what are we to do with you?"

"I fail to see the humor in this, Hawke."

Morrigan just gave a light smile. "There is one thing I do not understand."

Alistair looked at his love and raised an eyebrow. "Just the one?"

"Well, you. But in particular, my love, why the deception for so long about your parentage?"

"Have a care," he warned. "You know all about deception."

"I do. Which is frankly why I am confused. The deception lost it's use when King Cailan perished."

"I guess I just sort of hoped it might...go away?"

Marian smiled as Morrigan wrapped him in a hug and kissed him gently. "Oh my love, the truth does not simply go away."

"I never said it was a good plan."

Marian leaned against the rock of the mountain pass. "Alistair, you realize I could have used this much sooner if I had known?"

"Used what? How?"

"I think your fellow warden means," Morrigam supplied, "that this is the means to supply a ruler for Ferelden in place of Loghain's bratling girl."

"I...no." He looked panicked, scared. "I can't be king."

"You'd be better than most," Marian supplied. "I think this is exactly what Ferelden needs. A kind, warden, formerly-Templar king." She closed her eyes, laughing before she even continued. "And the apostate queen."

"Now you are joking." Morrigan's voice was low, more like her old violent self.

"I've rarely been so serious." The lilt of laughter betrayed Marian's words but she struggled through. "Alistair is a calm influence, inspiring trust and loyalty. Morrigan, you can be the first symbol of change: a mage held high, with no need of a Circle, and you can be the cold beauty who will do whatever is needed to protect the kingdom and her family. The stories practically write themselves."

Both her companions were pinching their noses and looking at each other in horror.

"Maker's balls, she's right."

Marian laughed. "Great proposal to your future queen your highness."

"You are sure about this?" Morrigan's voice came tense, unbelieving. Then, more vulnerable, she practically whispered, "You aren't messing with me?"

Aliistair took Morrigan's hands in his own. "I didn't expect to love you Morrigan, but I do. And if I have to be king your place is at my side."

The witch squeezed his hands tightly in her own. "If I go crazy I am taking you with me."

"Does that mean you both agree?" Marian asked, a little tentative. When they both nodded, she stood straight. "Good. Now let's go save you two a kingdom, shall we?"

- just after Redcliffe -

Marian was not okay after the days they spent with Arl Eamon. Between running back to the Circle and venturing into the Frostbacks she was simply exhausted, and arriving in Denerim was a treat. Or should have been.

"I'm sorry. Arl Who did what now?"

"Arl Howe...oh ha ha. Very funny." Alistair rolled his eyes, though the sparkle proved he appreciated the pun. "Arl Howe kidnapped Anora. It would be in ill taste to let her just sit there."

Marian bit the bottom of her lip. "I suppose. I don't know a whole lot about politics."

"You navigate them well, cara," Zevran assured. "Whatever you say is to be done is likely right."

Annoyance surged through Hawke. "I'm lost, alright? We have the barest semblance of a plan, and I have no idea how theses things work! I wish... Maker, I wish I was someone else. Some noble maybe, or even a mage with some manner of insight. But I'm just some farmer mage's daughter! I..." With that, Marian dropped and took a deep breath. "I... am so sorry! Won't happen again." Her eyes glistened as she looked at the two men, her best friends in all Thedas. "Alright. Plan. Zevran, you are the assassin. You get us in."

"Me?"

"Yes. You. Alistair, you said Morrigan's ring will let her sense where you are no matter what? That's our back up plan if we get caught."

"Brilliant."

Hawke thought about the route before them. Howe was a traitor, and would die. Loghain as well. Yet she couldn't help but think that what she set in motion here would return to harm her someday. Shaking off the feeling, Hawke returned to the work, dismissing the idea entirely.