2/28/15

"Hawke? Hawke? Carver!"

Even the urgency in Isabella's voice didn't break through. Carver was simply spent, back to a wall and shaking. His hands lifted and he let himself slide to the ground, burying his face. He refused to cry. It was too painful to cry.

Hawke was only dimly aware of Isabella suddenly barking orders, taking charge. Merrill came up to him and slid under his arm, pulling him up; he'd never thought of her as strong, but as she lifted him he realized she was much more so than he'd imagined. He followed the lead of the elf and the pirate girl just barely noting Anders do the same. Except Isabella occasionally rerouting questioning glances the return to Hightown was very quiet.

Back in their home, Carver quickly headed upstairs. Isabella was left in the foyer with the other two trying to determine the next course. Anders found a chair and slumped down in grief over the woman who had taken him in.

Bodahn broke the silence. "Is there...a problem?"

Isabella nodded, taking a deep breath. "Leandra is dead," she quietly stated. Somehow saying it made it more substantial, more real. Merrill looked up the steps to Carver's room, starting up before she heard the crashes and bangs from within. Tactfully, Isabella added, "I would forego dinner tonight. Nobody is really hungry."

- *** $$$ !

When the morning broke Carver came down with his previous practiced calm. He saw his three companions had stayed in his drawing room. Anders was in a plush chair, head having fallen down on a desk in front of it. Merrill and Isabella were on the large couch, the elf on top of the other woman with her head above Bella's heart. The "heartless pirate wench" had the younger woman wrapped protectively. Carver smiled at the scene, his hands slipping forward to smooth both women's hair and brush curls away. Merrill giggled in her sleep, nuzzling in further to Bella's chest; Isabella however opened her eyes.

"Carver..." She started to rise.

"Don't," Carver whispered, putting a hand on her shoulders. There was just enough room at the end of the couch and he slid in there, putting a hand on Merrill as well. She had stopped the blood magic already. Thankfully. He didn't think he could handle if she still did it, after...

Carver felt the tears well up in his eyes and leaned on Merrill's form. It was slight, but warm; beneath he could feel Isabella's breathing, steadying as she started back to sleep. Carver just lay, feeling both of them, and letting his own mind ease at their presence. Soon there would be letters to write and people to inform, but for now he could just relax with the two women who he suddenly realized meant more to him than anyone left in the world.

- Letter -

Marian.

I can't... I'm sorry.

Mother is gone. Dead. I couldn't protect her like I couldn't protect Bethy.

I'm starting to hate Kirkwall.

I used to hate your shadow. Now I don't know. How did you manage with all Ferelden crushing down on you?

Tell me some good news?

-Your brother, Carver

000 *** Meanwhile &&&

Marian had no time for the letter that waited for her in Amaranthine. Her attention was focused on the visitor to the Keep. Alistair was traveling to the Arlings now that Morrigan was able to handle Keiran on her own. The boy was still young at three, but showed his pervasive intellect in everything. Alistair beamed and gloated about his son happily, and Mari was pleased to see his levity. As his best friend, the lady Warden felt it was her place to ensure his stay was pleasant if he must be away from his family.

Thus this evening spent with the Wardens who were there to enjoy. Alistair blended in except for his association with the Commander. The two stuck in a corner with their ales, sharing old stories. They tended to keep up consistently, meeting once or twice a year in Denerim, but this was different. Here was a different element, where other comrades were willing to ignore them; in Amaranthine, Alistair could disappear into the other Wardens' numbers.

Marian knew she was a little drunk, and could see Alistair was as well. They were sharing a laugh over Ohgren's latest misadventure with Sigrun when Nathaniel dropped into a seat beside Mari and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Alistair watched the two carefully before sighing. "I was meaning to talk with the two of you, actually. Something interesting in the realm."

"Oh?" Marian asked, leaning forward. "Do tell."

"Nathaniel Howe as a Warden has rehabilitated the family name. Perhaps a little too well actually."

Nate chuckled. "Too well? Isn't an old family returning to favor a good thing?"

Alistair laughed into his drink. "Normally yes, but it appears in this case it is causing the other nobles to respectfully suggest he take possession of Amaranthine."

Marian choked. "You're kidding?"

"I wish I was. They have a strong enough voice- this could carry, Hawke." With a wry smile he looked between the two. "Of course, there is one... obvious solution."

Nathaniel caught on immediately. "Your Highness, if you are attempting..."

"I attempt nothing. I'm simply putting my friend here," with those words, he gestured to Marian, "in a situation that is all too familiar to me. Consider it repaying a favor."

Marian's eyes went wide. "Alistair, I don't think..."

Nate put one of his fingers to her lips. "Marian. Hush."

The female commander found her entire body seize up at his forceful words. She bit her lip lightly and watched as the two men exchanged a very meaningful look. Alistair shrugged and went back to his drink while Nathaniel turned very squarely to the eldest Hawke.

"Nate?"

"I hadn't planned on this right now. On the other hand, I can't say the idea never crossed my mind. So, Marian, what do you say? Shall we get married and stop Alistair from having a massive headache dealing with his council?"

Mari chugged down the last bit and gave her lover a nod. He kissed her in response, and she chuckled as they broke apart. "Anything for Alistair's sanity."

Nate nodded. "I have something for you. From the ravens, straight from the city. It's from Carver."

Marian accepted the letter, thinking. He must have been coming to hand it over when Alistair waylaid the conversation. Now she opened it, the words flooding as her face fell. She grabbed Nate's hand and squeezed, her breath catching in her lungs. He squeezed back, concern apparent; in response, Mari just handed the letter over and raised her hand for another drink. Nate read, then pulled his lover nearer for another hug.

"That's enough for tonight," Nathaniel whispered. He grabbed her hand and guided Mari away. Alistair let them go, moving to Ohgren and sharing a new drink with his dwarves companion. He could ask what happened later, when Mari and Nate were ready.

It was not the next morning, as Marian chose to remain in her rooms. All that left was Nathaniel, twice: once to grab food, and the other to bring out a response letter to the raven's loft to head directly to Kirkwall.

000 - Response ***

Carver-

I don't know how I managed sometimes, but I know when it was personal I forced myself to be stronger. To stay detached. That was what worked for me. I don't know if it would you. You have always been strongest with someone to protect.

You asked for good news?

Alistair wrote. Apparently we did too well rehabilitating Nate's image and some began calling for him to inherit Amaranthine again, not comfortable with it being in the jurisdiction of a Warden stronghold. Can't blame them really. Alistair's response was...well, after what I did to him and Morrigan I deserved it. The plan is ingenious too.

Surprise! Your sister is getting married. Tell Bethy?

Mother would have been so happy. That is all I can say on that subject.

One last piece of advice. Keep your companions close, brother. They will be your strength. And if you find love enjoy it. Fight for it.

Always, Mari