Hazelnuts and plaid

[Marian Hawke]

Hawke nods slowly. "Okay. Okay. Then... I'll be alright."

[Varric]

Varric nods, a bolstering smile firmly in place. "Damn right you will be. Better than the poor mage I paid to teleport the healer out to Anders." He shakes his head slowly, an expression of deep sympathy and pity on his face. "Rituals are like six hours all told. Gods above and below; six hours, six long, torturous hours out in," he shudders, "the countryside."

[Marian Hawke]

Despite herself, Hawke chuckles. "You remember I spent seventeen years in the countryside, right?"

[Varric]

Varric makes a face and shushes her. "No, no, no. Let's not speak of such a dark time," Varric croons softly. "Focus on maths and taverns, cobblestone streets that lead to take-away grocers, a wide array of service industries, hundreds of bookstores and libraries and--" He raises a finger to ensure he has her focus. "No. Cows."

[Marian Hawke]

"We had goats, actually. And a mine. Fresh air, dogs, a quaint little duck pond, a one-room schoolhouse where I was the smartest kid hands down..."

[Varric]

Varric tisks softly. "Goats are just smaller, angrier cows. Mines are... eh, I'll give you a tiny point for that. Fresh air comes free with any open window, we got dogs-- mabari even-- the park has ducks and you're plenty damn smart, even if you're comparing yourself against the finest minds in Nyra."

[Marian Hawke]

Somehow, that last pricks tears in her eyes. "Papa, I'm not... Well, we can talk later about my schoolwork."

[Varric]

"I know," he says quietly. "Got nothing to do with your mind, that's still just fine." Varric's eyes are sad but warm. "You're one of the brightest, most clever and quick minded people I know. But your mind pales when compared to your heart and it's your heart that's been broken. Without that foundation, you're floundering. Because of me."

[Marian Hawke]

She shakes her head. "Never you. Never. You've only ever done what you thought was best for me, and you're so much smarter and more clever than me. I'm... I'm sorry I'm failing you, Papa."

[Varric]

Varric gasps, a soft, almost gentle exhale and his eyes flinch closed. "Oh Marian," he whispers. "No. I failed you. I got stubborn and I insisted I knew best, even after I'd realized-- even after I doubted, I couldn't change my mind. I told myself; just for a year or two. She'll be fine. It'll hurt but she'll be fine without me. What's a few years after all, what could go wrong? I saw the cracks, I saw you breaking, saw Merrill and Zevran breaking and I still ran."

[Marian Hawke]

She reaches up with a hand, intending to stroke his cheek, then stops. With the stories about me, the idea that I'm fucking my solicitor isn't the most scandalous tale, but... Better not to risk his disguise. Still, it hurts, seeing him like this. Seeing him suffer and not being able to.... 

"You should tell Helene," she says quietly. "You should have someone."

[Varric]

"I just did," he points out, forcing his eyes open. "The most important someone."

[Marian Hawke]

"I can't help you," she whispers. "I'm... for one thing, I'm about to be back in jail. For another, I'm not... I'm not as strong as I was when you left. You need someone who you can lean on, have whiskey talks with, cry in front of, and not... not me."

[Varric]

Varric takes a slow, deep breath. "I can talk and cry with you-- as best I cry at all anyway-- and I don't need to lean on someone, I need to--" He flushes, just a little. "I need to hold someone that will care." He swallows, forces a smile, a rough laugh. "But the jail part I'll give you, that's an obstacle. For now. Only for now."

[Marian Hawke]

She leans forward, unable to help herself, and plants a kiss on his cheek. "It'll be alright. If I go to prison... you'll be here to hold the Clan together. You'll do a better job than I have."