Ghost Story

[Varric]

"I can manage. Just-- taste caught me off guard." Shite. "And if it helps, it'd be worth a bit of hardship. Worth a lot of hardship."

[Marian Hawke]

"Why? What's the point in talking about it?"

[Varric]

"Same reasons why you'd talk about any trauma." He shrugs. 

[Marian Hawke]

"So people can make pity eyes at you and sad noises with their mouths?"

[Varric]

"Gods in all Their Heavens/Hells," Varric mutters, rubbing his face. "No, that's not the desired purpose Marian. Repressing things doesn't actually work. It ghosts around the edges, bubbles up and rots and festers. And maybe they've been through similar. Having that, knowing you're not alone, it can help. Sometimes they have advice too. Or can offer another viewpoints, help you accept or move past something. Fuck." He scrubs again, then leans against the bench. "Sometimes just being able to say it, to acknowledge it happened, that it was shit... that's enough."

[Marian Hawke]

Marian lets out a long breath and sinks into a chair. "Fine. I'll tell you about it. Once. And we'll see if that helps anything."

She rubs her face, looking tired, looking much older than her physical form -- looking like someone who's spent fifty years trapped in the worst period of her life, unable to move past teenagehood, unable to move on and really feel safe. Then it's gone, and she looks like herself again, rolling her eyes a bit. 

"Alright. So. What do you already know?"

[Varric]

Far too much. "I know the context well enough I think. About Beth and the charges. Family dynamics in a general sense." As he answers, he moves to turn off the burner on the workbench. And to pull out a large bottle of amber liquid along with two small glasses.

[Marian Hawke]

"They sent me out," she says, and her voice is flat, her eyes closed. "They sent me out with money to bribe him. I went straight to the sheriff, at the jail; I Was in tears, I begged him, please, take the money, give me back my sister. She didn't do anything wrong. But he had this lazy expression, this laid back drawl to his voice, as he said, now that would be bribery, wouldn't it?

"And... and I knew what they wanted. What he wanted. What I should do.  I should say, I'm the witch, take me instead. I should prove it. Say it was me that iced over the grass in high summer. Then he'd let Bethie go and I'd be his captor. But I couldn't.. I couldn't bring myself to do it.

"Then I saw the way he was looking at me, and, well, I had an idea."

[Varric]

"They'd have just burned you both," Varric says quietly, tone chosen to be supportive but confident. "No reason to let her go, not with their mindset, and plenty to keep you both. And you're smart enough, clever enough, to have realized that, even if you didn't face the thought directly."

[Marian Hawke]

Marian nods. "I think... I think he wanted me prisoner. Wanted me bad. Wanted to... have me at his mercy. So I compromised. I told him I'd do... anything to get her back. And he said, he might be able to think of a favor I could do him. And he unbuttoned his trousers and I knew what he wanted and I said, okay, I can do that, just please let her go."

She takes a deep breath, hands shaking. "He was already hard when he pulled it out, and he had me kneel, right there in the jail lobby. He put his hand on the back of my head and pulled me in close to him, so close I could smell him, and he thrust into me, over and over. he ordered me to use my tongue so I did my best, I wasn't sure how but I tried. then he came in my mouth and held me so I almost gagged until I swallowed it all. Let me go and said, he'll think about letting Bethie go, I wasn't that good, but maybe if I was willing to try again, or try more..."

[Varric]

Without turning around, Varric grabs more of the stuff from the jar-- a pale yellow strip of something Marian can see now-- and pops it in his mouth. When she trails off, Varric tucks the substance into his cheek to talk. "Nothing you did would have worked," he says slowly. "Nothing short of mind control or mass killing would have gotten Beth free by your hand. Your step-father could have maybe done something. Or your mother for that matter. They could have used their rank to at least stall long enough to get a Justicar in."

[Marian Hawke]

"You don't know that for sure," she points out. "It might have. I didn't try everything possible. I couldn't-- I should have let him use my ass the way Drake did. Maybe he'd have let her go. Or at least I'd have been able to say I did everything. But I couldn't stand the idea of crawling home bleeding again, trying to hide how bad it hurts to sit."

[Varric]

"Broken mind and empty dreams," Varric mutters in axomic. He takes a deep breath and returns Bianca to his glove. "So the fuck what?" he finally demands. "So the fuck what if you didn't sell your damn soul to get her free? That's not your fucking duty! You did more-- exponentially more-- than anyone else did! And it was never your place to do so!"

[Marian Hawke]

"I loved her," she whispers. "So much. She was the best of us, the pride and joy of the family. I thought I would have done anything for her, but I didn't. I didn't do it. So it's my fault."

[Varric]

"No it's not!" Varric cries out. "You had no obligation to hurt yourself in anyway to help her! You love her, you cherish her, so you did anyway. You tried to help in multiple ways, many of them that hurt and shamed you. Total sacrifice is bullshit."