Hazelnuts and plaid

[Varric]

He opens his mouth to protest but changes his mind last second. "I'm humbled you think so. I don't understand why you do, but-- Sorry. What I meant to say is 'thank you for the touching but entirely never-to-be-needed vote of confidence.' And hey, don't consign yourself to prison just yet. I get that you want to-- to redeem yourself, to make up for what happened, but prison isn't how. I--" 

He breaks off, looking back at the entrance as he hears something. A few seconds later, a look of surprise flitters across his face as Aveline is pushed into the room by a guardswoman with about as much muscle as the Captain but packed into a half a foot less height. Aveline looks a bit wane, her complexion a shade or two paler than normal and her eyes hollowed, but she's alert and seems unpained. She's also visibly pregnant, something she's clearly still adjusting to given how she's holding her shield partially over her stomach. "Hawke," she says softly, voice aching as soon as she spots her beloved.

[Marian Hawke]

Hawke's expression softens as she sees Aveline's belly, and she whispers a quick prayer of thanks to Astea for saving the children. Tears run freely down her face once more, and she wraps her arms around her stomach, trying to protect her gut instinctively. "Aveline," she whispers, and it's full of tenderness and regret. 

[Varric]

Aveline looks puzzled briefly, then she turns her head to murmur something to one of the jail guards. They tap something on the desk and Marian feels an inaudible pop in the base of her skull. Clearing his throat, Varric says briskly, "very good then, Sage zi'Hawke. I shall return to the chamber to observe the rest of the interviews. Be well." He bows, then heads for the door without delay, not trusting his disguise to hold up for long against Aveline, not in his current condition. 

Not that he really needs to worry, at least not as much as he's expecting, given how distracted the paladin is. She starts to wheel herself forward, gets her hand smacked by the guard behind her, scowls, huffs and allows herself to be pushed forward. "I-- How are-- What--" Aveline shakes her head, a look of frustration surfacing at her inability to decide what to say, where to start. 

[Marian Hawke]

"Are you okay?" asks Marian urgently. "Did the ritual...?"

The guard wheels Aveline in range, setting the brake before running a hand through her spikey white hair. "She's fine, ma'am. Sage. She just needs to rest while her body adjusts."

[Aveline Vallen]

"Bloated, starving and queasy but yes, I'm okay," Aveline confirms, gratefully seizing on the conversational direction. "The Doctor used every divination and mundane test he could think of to confirm things; I'm okay and the twins are well on their way to full recovery. I need to take some special vitamin drinks for a few weeks to make sure, but he was very certain that they're easily in, ah, how did he... 'within a single standard deviation of the upper tenth percentile of optimal infant health for their current gestation period.' Which Magnus explained means 'they're very healthy.' So... So."

[Marian Hawke]

"I'm so glad," whispers Hawke, rubbing at her eyes. "I never meant to hurt the babes. I prayed and prayed that they might be saved, but I didn't truly think... I did not think I deserved another miracle. I am glad that the gods saw fit to bless our Clan despite my... mistakes."

[Aveline Vallen]

Aveline swallows, eyes dipping for a moment. "Hawke... I-- What happened?" she whispers, unoccupied hand trembling. "I don't-- They took me off the case, blocked me entirely, from practically minute one. And then I was," she gestures at her stomach. 

[Marian Hawke]

"It was my fault," she whispers. "I... there was a bottle of poisoned juice in my cellar. Merrill must have drank it on accident. If I hadn't been so drunk I could have gotten her help, just like Zevran and Anders got help, but I was so drunk I didn't even notice she was in trouble. She died in my bed, in my arms, and I did nothing."

[Aveline Vallen]

"Oh Hawke," Aveline breathes out, a plea, a prayer, an admonishment. "That--" No, that won't work. It didn't for me and I'm at least a bit less prone to self-blame. "Did you mean it? Do you regret it?"

[Marian Hawke]

"I didn't mean it, and I regret it more than anything," she whispers passionately, desperately. "If I could give my own life to take it back I would."

[Aveline Vallen]

"Bad Hawke, no, bad!" Aveline barks, then flushes slightly. "Sorry, just-- I'm okay but, well, I am-- That is--" She flounders, looking awkward and embarrassed. 

[Wylde]

"It's your hormones," chimes in the minder. "They warned me about that. You'll be all over the place emotionally for a time. It's best to avoid sudden shocks." Like finding out your... wife's wife? is dead. Or finding out your wife is the prime suspect. Or... any of today, really.

[Marian Hawke]

"Sorry," she whispers. "It's just... it's Merrill. The one person I have to protect above all others and I... I failed her."

[Aveline Vallen]

"I understand," Aveline assures her, reaching out with her free hand. Her lips twist as she adds simply, "Wesley."

[Marian Hawke]

Hawke takes her hand, clinging to it tightly. "Even more so than... if you were to fall in battle protecting me, I would be crushed, but this is a hundred times worse. Sweet, innocent Merrill. The heart of our Clan. Dead, because I was irresponsible and... and... I was an awful wife. I am an awful wife. To you, to her, to Isabela..."