~O~
~O~
Cover my eyes, cover my ears
Tell me these words are a lie
It can't be true that I'm losing you
The sun cannot fall from the sky
~O~
Stop every clock, stars are in shock
The river won't run to the sea
I won't let you fly, I won't say goodbye
I won't let you slip away from me
~O~
Can you hear heaven cry
The tears of an angel?
~O~
Cover my eyes, cover my ears
Tell me these words are a lie
~O~
~Tears of an Angel by RyanDan~
~O~
Chapter Twenty-eight
Anders walked down the dusty trail beside Marian; Varric, Merrill, Fenris, Aveline and Isabela spread out all around them, while they made their way back to the city. None of the usual jokes and bantering comments were uttered on this occasion, all of them being far too exhausted for anything more demanding than mindless walking. The high dragon they fought at the Bone Pit had not been entirely unexpected, but defeating it required all of them working together. After, it had taken Anders another three quarters of an hour to heal all of them enough for the return journey.
The walk was interminable, full dark having fallen long before they were back in Kirkwall. They all went their separate ways, Marian wanting nothing more than a long soak in the bath, followed by sweet, restorative sleep. Anders massaged the back of her neck as they turned the corner, nearly to the mansion.
"Why don't you get in the bath, love? I'll go through to the kitchen and fetch us dinner and bring it to the room."
She nodded, giving him a tired, but appreciative smile. "That sounds lovely. I just need to check in with Mother before I get in the bath. She was worried about us going out to the Bone Pit today, for some reason, and I want to reassure her that we are all well." Anders opened the door, closing it behind them.
"Mother, we're home!" Marian called, shrugging off her weapons and leaving them on one of the benches in the entryway. Carver met her in the doorway of the lounge, in his off-duty attire of plain breeches and tunic, a frown on his face.
"I thought Mother was with you, Mari. She was supposed to spend the afternoon with me, and then we were to eat dinner here, but she wasn't here when I arrived, so I waited. Do you know if something came up? I looked for a note she might have left, but didn't find anything."
Marian tilted her head. "I haven't seen her since we went to deal with the dragon at the Bone Pit, Carver. That was just after lunch."
Bodahn came walking in, carry a large vase of flowers. "I thought perhaps Mistress Amell was out with her suitor, perhaps?"
Anders, Marian and Carver all turned to look at him in confusion. "Suitor?" Carver asked, his face screwed up in disgust. "When did that happen? I've heard nothing about anyone courting Mother."
"Leandra never mentioned a suitor to me, either. I hardly think she would keep something like that a secret, she tells me most everything," Anders added with furrowed brows.
"Mari, what's wrong?" Carver demanded. She was staring wide-eyed at the floral arrangement Bodahn had set on a nearby table, making Carver turn to it as well. "Something about the flowers bothering you?"
"Love, are you well?" Anders touched her shoulder, concerned by her obvious signs of panic: pale face, wide-eyes and far too rapid breaths.
"Lilies," she whispered. "White lilies. No, no it can't…" Her expression turning harsh, she stalked to the dwarf and glared down at him. "When did these flowers come? Was Mother here? Who left them? What about a card?" She rummaged in the arrangement, checking for herself.
Bodahn scratched his head in confusion. "They arrived not long after you and Master Anders departed, by normal delivery, a young elf boy. I didn't notice a card, but there might have been one, I took them directly to Lady Leandra. She left soon after."
"We have to find her." Marian stalked to the entry-hall and took her sword and staff, strapping them on again and taking a step toward the door before Carver blocked her path.
"Tell me what this is about."
She looked from Carver to Anders. "You were both with me when we looked into the disappearance of Ghyslain de Carrac's wife, Ninette, some years back. And more recently, Anders, Varric and I were again called on to help Emeric investigate the leads he found on the killer. That led us to Gascard DuPuis's estate. He was a blood mage we executed, consequently freeing the woman he held, named Alessa."
Carver nodded, a disturbed look on his face. "Emeric was murdered in a Darktown alley, his murderer was never discovered. But what does any of that have to do with Mother?"
"Do either of you remember what the victims were sent before they were taken?" She pressed her lips together when she saw the realization in Carver's eyes. "It was a bouquet of white lilies," she finished quietly. "I'm going to Lowtown, and I won't stop looking until I find Mother. Hopefully, this is all just a terrible coincidence, but…"
"Shit," Anders said, holding her gaze, the anger and determination on his face making her stiffen her spine and clench her jaw.
Snatching his sword from where he left it and sheathing it, Carver nodded grimly, the three of them out the door and down the steps to Lowtown. When they reached the empty market, they stopped to confer.
"Carver, you go to Gamlen's and see if Mother is there, or if Gamlen has seen her if she isn't. Anders and I will go see if Varric or any of the others are available to join us. If we end up searching the streets, fighting gangs, or demons and shades, it can't hurt to have extra allies. Meet in front of the Hanged Man as soon as possible."
"Right." Carver jogged away, Marian and Anders hurrying to the pub, up the stairs and entering Varric's suite moments later. Varric saw her face and immediately strapped Bianca on, looking at her expectantly. Glancing around at his empty room, she deduced the others had all gone to their homes to lick their wounds from the dragon, realizing it would only be the four of them. She looked back to the dwarf.
"Mother is missing, Varric. Someone sent a bouquet of white lilies to her earlier today, and she went missing soon after."
Varric winced. "White lilies? Shit."
Worry twisted in Marian's gut at the concerned, sympathetic way her friend looked at her. She clenched her jaw and looked away, she needed to focus on the task- finding her mother, well and unharmed. "Let's go, time is of the essence. Carver is meeting us out front."
"Right behind you, Hawke."
Marian jogged back downstairs, her heart dropping at the sight of Carver pacing in front of the pub. "Had Gamlen seen her at all today?"
Carver shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "No, he hasn't seen her since last week. What now? Split up and search all the alleys and streets in Lowtown?"
"I don't know," she said quietly. "Give me a moment to consider."
Pacing a few steps away, Marian stared off toward the foundry district for several minutes, a dark purple light beginning to glow from her hands and swirl around her arms. Turning, she met Anders' eyes with hesitance.
There's blood over there, Anders, quite a lot. It's...pulling me, telling me...something...where to go.
Trust your magic, it won't lead us astray. He assured her silently, nodding.
Varric and Carver looked questioningly at Anders.
"She's found a substantial blood trail, and it's speaking to her, to her magic," he explained. "We're going to follow it." Anders was right behind her, with Varric and Carver bringing up the rear. They followed the trail for some distance, Marian's urgency increasing with each passing minute. The blood stopped well into the foundry district at a familiar building.
"Rusty metal spike district, my favorite," Varric muttered.
"We've been here before," Carver said, his face tense with anger and worry.
"Yes, we have. Be very cautious once we're inside, there were quite a few traps previously." Drawing a deep, steadying breath, Marian opened the entrance and slipped in after Varric picked the lock and went first, to look for traps.
They fought through wave after wave of demons and shades, Varric disarming all the poisonous traps that were an additional menace on top of all the magical enemies. It led to a hidden entrance they hadn't discovered the first time they came there. When they found Alessa dead, it gave Marian an even more desperate need for haste, speeding her steps. She had to save her mother! Nothing could happen to her, nothing. She wouldn't allow it.
The room they entered next made her want to vomit, malice seemed to permeate the air, dark magic crawling over her skin like tiny insects. Everything smelled of death and rot, making her stomach churn with nausea and fear. She stared at the portrait of a woman that looked far too much like her mother for comfort, the apparent focal point of some demented shrine.
She surveyed all the books on Necromancy and Blood Magic, read several notes from correspondents. A curious detachment and calmness blanketed her emotions as the terrible puzzle pieces came together, a realization she didn't want to even consider, so she forced it away. Turning to the doorway resolutely, she refused to look at Carver or Varric. Blocked the concern and worry she felt from Anders, focusing on one thing, and one thing only.
Save Mother. Save Mother. I must save Mother.
Time went by in a strange blur- more shades and demons to kill, then the murderous madman raving about what he had done and why. The attempted reconstruction of his dead wife, using the body parts of the innocent women whose lives he stole, as though he had a right to rob them of their happiness in a twisted bid to recapture his own. And he called what he did love, he dared to call it that. How could anyone be so cruel, so blind? Sick. Disgusting. Horrifying. Death was far too good for such a creature. He deserved to feel a portion of the pain he had so cavalierly visited on others.
The cold rage in her chest grew, expanded, swelled until she was completely consumed by it, her throat full of it, her tongue heavy from it. Cutting off the maniac mid-speech, she lifted her hands and beckoned the part of her magic that she still didn't fully understand, coaxing, begging, urging it to do her bidding. It responded swiftly, eagerly, with more power than she had ever thought possible or felt before, lifting him into the air and paralyzing him, a purple cloud so dark it was nearly black, swirling around his body. She could feel his life essence running in his veins, depraved, malevolent, as black and wicked as his putrid heart. Touching it with her magic was like tasting something so foul and bitter it took every shred of her will not to pull away.
With a face full of all her hate for what he had done, she commanded his blood, watching grimly while it poured from his mouth, his nose, his eyes. Every fingertip dripped crimson, large drops splashed onto the floor from his shoes. His pain was a siren song for her own agony, and she reveled in it, he deserved every second of her vengeance. Like a cascading river his blood came, more and more, until his skin took on the texture of powder. Still, she held the shriveled shell of the murderer suspended, her fury unsatisfied.
He's dead, Marian, it's done. Let it go and rein your magic in. I'm here, love.
Anders' voice in her mind was like a cool breeze, soothing away the fiery anger that gripped her, until at last, she flung the necromancer with all the force she could muster, against the far wall. What fell to the floor was nothing more than dust and bits of fabric from his clothing that remained.
"Mother!" Carver rushed forward and caught the shambling creature the mad mage had forced their mother to become, laying her down gently on the filthy floor, holding up her head in his arms so she could speak.
At Marian's quick look at Anders, he shook his head. I'm so sorry, love, his magic was keeping her alive. There's nothing I can do for her.
She nodded in acknowledgement of his words, she knew it, even before he confirmed it. But the flame of hope always burned stubbornly, insistently, until it was completely snuffed out. All that remained was to say goodbye.
Despite Leandra's ghastly appearance, her voice when she spoke was the same as it had ever been, full of her love and kindness. "All my dear ones, thank you for saving me, for releasing me from the prison that monster intended for me."
"I'm sorry, Mother," Carver said in a choked, anguished voice. "If we had only known, we would have come sooner. We might have stopped him in time." Marian and Anders came and knelt down, next to Carver.
"Forgive me, Mother," Marian said in a shaky whisper. "I have failed you. I'm so sorry, I failed you."
Leandra smiled, her love shining brightly, even from her cloudy eyes. "No, neither of you failed, you saved me. I knew my darlings would come for me. I wasn't afraid, because I knew you would come, my precious children. I love you so, Carver, Marian, and I'm so proud of you both, of who you have both become. Never forget that, in the years that lie ahead, that you made me so proud."
She turned her gaze to where the healer crouched. "Anders, you are the son of my heart. Knowing Marian has you to love her and be her rock brings me such joy, even now. Remember your promise to me, dear boy."
He nodded, resolve in his voice and eyes, even as tears slowly coursed down his face. "I do. I will. Take our love with you, and be at peace, Leandra. Your children will be well, and cared for."
Leandra's smile grew softer. "And my grandchildren, don't forget. You'll be a wonderful father, Anders. Marian, you will be an excellent mother too, don't be afraid to fully live your life, my darling girl. The Maker blessed you with your magic for a reason. Don't let what this creature did here taint that. Will you promise me?"
"Yes, I promise, Mother." She swallowed back a sob. "I love you, thank you for being such a good mother to us."
"Carver, love?" Leandra whispered, her voice growing weaker.
He scrubbed a hand across his eyes to clear his vision of tears. "I'm here, Mother. And I love you too. Don't worry about us, we'll be alright."
"Your father and Bethany...are waiting for me."
She raised a trembling hand to Carver's face before it fell away, and the last of the light faded from her eyes. The three of them sat there, still, for several silent minutes, before Anders rose.
"I'll take her," he murmured, lifting the body into his arms and carrying her across the room, laying her on a long, dusty table.
"Here, Blondie." Varric held out a blanket he had scrounged, Anders nodding gratefully before he covered the remains.
Carver got to his feet and helped his sister to hers, both of them still looking stunned and in shock. The youngest Hawke turned to the mostly decimated remains of what had once been a man.
"I've never seen you do anything like that before, Mari. I didn't even know you could do something like that."
Unwilling to face the sight, she turned her back to the pool of blood and other remnants of the man. "I didn't know I could do that either," she whispered, "it's the first time." Anders came and stood beside her, slipping her hand into his, a silent support.
"I...suppose I better go let Gamlen know, I said I would. And I'll have to report all this to Cullen, as well." His brows lowered with a grimace. "Necromancy and blood magic, it doesn't get any worse than this. What about Aveline? Will someone tell the city guard?"
Varric stepped nearer. "Don't worry, I'll send word to Aveline, Junior."
"Thanks, Varric," Carver nodded and looked at Marian. "You should go home, sister, the very air here is foul. There's nothing more to be done tonight. I'll come see you again soon, and we can talk about any arrangements, or some sort of memorial, if you want."
She rubbed a hand across one of her eyebrows, trying to soothe the ache and heaviness in her head. "I can't think about that now. Maybe in a few days. But there is something I still have to do before I go."
With determined strides, she made her way back to the room with the makeshift shrine, and all the books and loose pieces of paper she didn't have time to fully read before. Carver left to do as he said, and she, Anders and Varric went through everything. After gathering all she considered useful to help unravel the series of events, perhaps discover who had aided and enabled the murderer, if anyone, they left, stopping in front of the Hanged Man.
"Thank you for your help, Varric," Hawke said in a quiet voice.
He laid a hand on her arm, his concern showing plainly. "Anything you need, anything I can do for you, just let me know, Hawke. Same for you, Blondie. And I'm sorry for your loss. She was a very special lady."
"Thanks, Varric," Anders murmured, slipping one of Marian's hands into his again, while she nodded in silent acknowledgement before they parted ways.
The walk back to Hightown was quiet and passed in a blur for Marian. She followed stoically when Anders led her through the garden entrance and past the kitchen, guiding her to the servant's stairs. They made it to their bedroom without encountering a soul. She couldn't bear to talk to anyone or answer any questions Bodahn might have, and Anders obviously knew her feelings. She felt dazed, just going through the motions of whatever the next thing was, bathing, dressing, drinking whatever Anders gave her, as she had no appetite and couldn't even stand the thought of food. Numbness smothered her thoughts and emotions, granting distance from what she could not yet acknowledge.
She sat on the bed in one of her robes, staring unseeing into the crackling flames of the fireplace that warmed their room, while her hair dried. Anders quietly saw to his own needs, bathing and eating, while she again waited passively for what came next. When he helped her slip her robe off and climb under the covers, she made no protest. Nor did she resist when he swiftly took control to see to their other needs, bringing them both to climax quickly and efficiently.
Anders settled her in his arms to sleep, but she lay there fully awake while he slept, for hours, too alert, not able to quiet her clamoring mind enough to drift off. Feeling detached, like she was watching things happen from a distance to someone else, but it wasn't her. There was a pressing feeling of something catastrophic coming, hovering at the edge of her awareness, and she didn't want it to get any closer. Dread of it made her try even harder to push it back and away. She didn't even feel connected to her body, at all, it was a disconcerting experience.
"You need rest, Marian. Do you want me to put you to sleep?" Anders whispered to her, at some point during the night when he became aware of her wakefulness. She nodded, relenting at last, relieved when his magic pushed her into the waiting dark, a place where there would be no sorrow and no pain.
~O~
The last templar knight withdrew from the foundry warehouse, where Leandra Hawke and the other women had been murdered by the killer who had come to be known as the Lowtown Butcher. The city guard, including Guard Captain Aveline, had already completed their own investigation, and moved on. Only Knight-Captain Cullen and Carver remained.
They had actually been the first ones to return to the site, the same night Leandra was killed. After Carver informed Cullen of what had transpired, including what Marian had done, they left immediately to erase all signs of her magical attack and cleanse any magic cast by her. With the Knight-Commander's growing paranoia, Cullen was taking no chances with her finding out about Marian's blood-based magic, and declaring her an evil blood mage that must be executed.
Staring at the dark place on the floor where the necromancer's blood had been, Cullen sighed and turned to Carver. "Do you want to take a leave of absence, perhaps stay with Marian for a while? Take some time to process and grieve?"
With his arms crossed, Carver shook his head. "I prefer to stay busy, it's never been my way to wallow. Mari doesn't need me underfoot in her home, she has everything she could require in Anders. He will make her care and well-being his focus, as he's ever done since they returned from the deep roads." Carver's brows furrowed. "Mother said something surprising to them, before she passed. About her grandchildren, and both of them being wonderful parents."
Cullen gave Carver a startled look. "Is Marian with child? Surely she shouldn't be putting herself at risk fighting blood mages and the like, if she is."
Shifting his weight, Carver shrugged. "I don't know. But that would have made Mother happy. Neither of them have informed me of any such thing, but if she is, I suppose they will soon marry."
"Perhaps they will. Come, let us leave this evil place." Cullen turned and started walking for the stairs with Carver following, trying to ignore the pain to his heart and the stone that felt like it lodged in his gut at the prospect of Marian and Anders wedding and starting a family. It was to be expected, and if anyone knew how close they were, it was him. He just wished the news of their happiness didn't make him feel like his heart was being torn asunder.
~O~
The road was brighter at the beginning
When I lived inside a dream
Is it too late now for you to see me
When I'm breaking at the seams?
~O~
Hold on, I'm coming apart
I'm gone, but not too far
Hold on, be strong
Don't give up on me today
~O~
You're my one thing
You're the one thing
Cause you're my one thing I can't lose
~O~
I'm coming apart, don't give up on me.
~O~
~Coming Apart by Red~
~O~
Marian sat on the couch in the main sitting room of her Hightown estate, staring at the basket of sewing supplies, colorful threads, cards of needles, and small, sharp scissors where they had been left. She held her mother's latest project on her lap, still stretched taut in a sewing hoop. It was a depiction of a lone dove rising from a grey mist to soar toward the blazing sun above.
Each stitch was precise, perfect, it even looked like rays of sunlight brightened parts of the dove's wings, where the shafts of gold shone through the few clouds in the sky. It was beautiful, hopeful, a perfect reflection of the woman who had always managed to embroider some of the radiance of her own spirit into everything she touched. It was nearly finished, but not quite, and now it never would be. Just like Leandra Hawke's life, a work interrupted.
Why were evil things so drawn to all that was good? Why did it work endlessly, tirelessly to destroy it? How was it that the good never truly received justice for being wronged? And why did vengeance feel so hollow and pointless? Impossible questions that had no satisfactory answers, and she was so tired of trying to make sense of any of it. But the questions kept circling relentlessly in her mind, tormenting her ceaselessly, taunting her to find a reason, any reason for all of it that made sense. It had been three days since her mother's murder, and it still felt unreal. All of her mother's things still lay exactly where she had left them, in readiness for her return.
Marian found herself listening out for her mother's steps multiple times a day, or thinking of something she meant to tell her, or ask her, before she remembered she couldn't. She would never be able to tell her or ask her something, ever again. It was so final, so absolute. The death of a person you loved wasn't a single event that happened one time and you moved past it. It was a new death every time you experienced the shock and horror at the realization that the person was truly gone; dozens, hundreds, thousands of times you had to face that same pain. And somehow, the agony didn't seem to lessen or become easier to bear, despite constant exposure. Rather, it grew sharper, more jagged, gouging your spirit where love used to reside, turning what once was bright and hopeful, into bleakness and despair.
Breathing did nothing but push the anguish into each part of you, pumping it through your veins until it was everywhere. You couldn't stop it, couldn't escape it, grief was the cruel master that held the heart enslaved, crushing it, breaking it, but never granting the mercy of death. You had to live the rest of your life while constantly hemorrhaging from those invisible wounds, the shedding of tears the only visible sign of the internal injury that could not be repaired. But how to go on living in such a state?
Anders walked into the room and sat down beside Marian, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, while he ran a gentle finger across the ascending dove Leandra had sewn. Several minutes passed before Marian broke the silence.
"What was the point of any of it?" She asked, drawing in a ragged breath. "All the struggle, the endless striving for the betterment of my family…and now my family is gone, forever. My life has been nothing but an exercise in futility. I should have let that ogre in Ferelden kill us all when it took Bethany, it would have been a far kinder death than what Mother was ultimately forced to endure."
Anders' arm around her tightened, his brows furrowed. "Your life is not futile, nor your deeds in vain. How quick you are to dismiss all the good you have done, all the lives you have touched and improved with your care and assistance. You are a beacon of inspiration in a world of darkness, just as Leandra was. Her light lives on in you, Marian." He touched her chin with a finger, turning her face toward him.
"It is not our deaths or the manner of them that define us or declare our worth, but how we lived the life we were granted, and how we spent the days and hours given to us. Your mother was a precious, beautiful person, and my life was impacted and enriched by knowing her, just like the many other lives she touched. Mourn her loss and absence, but don't diminish her impact in this world, her life's work was truly great to those that loved her. Every kind and noble thing you've ever done and all you will do in the future, is a credit to her."
She stared at him, glassy-eyed. "I don't know how to do this, Anders, how to go on pretending to be brave and strong, as though my heart hadn't been torn from my chest and shredded. Who I was before this is gone. I feel like the very fabric of my being is coming apart, breaking at the seams and unraveling, fracturing into a million broken pieces that can never be put back together. How much grief must I endure? I'm so weary of this same pain, over and over. I have no more strength, nothing left to draw on or fight with, I want to give up."
His gaze moved across her face with eyes full of his love and sorrow over her suffering. He lifted a hand to rest against her cheek, his thumb stroking softly there. "I'm here to hold you together, gather all your pain and lessen the burden of it by sharing it with you. If you need to come apart, I'll be with you through it all, and I'll never give up on you, today or any day. I won't let you give up on yourself, either. What strength I have is yours, hold on to me, lean on me, love, and give yourself over to my care. You're always safe in my arms. Allow yourself to feel whatever it is you need to, your true feelings, not the ones you think that you should have. Don't try to swallow down or bury your pain, only by lancing a wound is there any hope of healing."
Her eyes filled with the tears she had been trying so hard to push back and deny, her breath growing uneven from the quiet sobs that finally broke free. Anders pulled her onto his lap and cradled her against his chest, sliding gentle fingers through strands of her hair when she buried her face against his neck. They stayed that way while she wept, and long after all her tears had run dry. Marian embraced the warmth of his comfort and steadying presence, a wistful smile lifting her lips when she remembered her mother had called Anders her rock. He was that, and so much more.
"You're the one person I can't lose, Anders. I couldn't survive without you, nor would I want to. I'm so grateful for your presence at my side, through everything. I love you desperately."
He kissed her forehead. "I can't lose you either, my precious Marian. I love you with the entire depth and breadth of my being, and more, besides. We are fated for forever, sweetheart, I fully believe that."
She smiled. "At least fate got one thing in my life correct, the most important one...you." Closing her eyes, she drifted off in Anders' arms, feeling just a little lighter for the first time in days, thankful for it, and for him, her steady rock.
~O~
Author's Note: Emotionally, this was a very draining chapter to write, since I have to feel and experience everything the characters do to effectively describe it all. I dedicate it to anyone who has lost someone dear to them, and had to take that difficult journey through grief. In my experience, no other pain in life compares to that.
My musical inspiration for this chapter, played on endless loop while writing: Tears of an Angel by RyanDan, and Coming Apart by Red. The lyrics to these two songs fit everything I imagined Marian would be feeling, and how Anders' love and strength helped carry her through it.
~O~