Hazelnuts and plaid

[Varric]

Even as Zevran nods in agreement, Varric lets a sigh slip out. "I... do," he admits when people glance at him. "Not that she-- mental modifications and other more mundane deceit. Against her, not from her." Absently relieved that Zevran untenses, he continues, "I know some people consider me paranoid instead of cautious and suspicious but we do have enemies. Powerful, resourceful, spiteful ones. And all of this is just too... complicatedly neat I guess. Too much of it depended on something else having gone just so, which depended on two other things having another event resolve just so and-- No. I don't know-- I don't think that all of the-- The root cause was me and my fuck up, my leaving the way I did. But somewhere along the line, someone or someones-- or some One-- started interfering. Twisted things, made sure that the faultline came undone in the worst possible ways."

[Isabela]

"Varric," says Isabela, gently. "Maybe she just... wasn't as strong as we all thought she was."

[Varric]

Varric rubs at his forehead. "If it had just-- just," he repeats, almost spitting the word. Almost, because this is Helene's workshop. "Just the depression, self-harm, and drinking? Fine. I'd be disappointed, hurt and, yes, angry but fine. But not the rest. The spiked juice; believable accident. Sending Isabela spiked wine; believable mistake. Anders getting ill; believable occurrence. All three? Within forty-eight hours of each other? No. That's bullshite."

[Isabela]

"I doubt it was spiked when she sent it, to be honest. I think someone intercepted it. But they also got to Merrill? When we have an origin for what happened to Merrill?"

[Zevran]

"Do we?" Zevran asks slowly. "That is to say, I know Hawke admitted to-- to having plans for the juice, for herself." He manages to get that out with only a single stumble, likely thanks to the supportive arm Rosalie has around him. "But... She's managed to keep all of this hidden. Until last night I mean. Not all of it, no, but none of us knew even half of what was wrong and all of us together didn't know two thirds. She did this despite her drinking, despite many of us being rather skilled. Everyone fucks up, very true, but for her to slip on something as significant as leaving poisoned juice out?" He frowns, brooding.

"Maybe, maybe not. It... it is possible that truly was an accident," Varric admits painfully. "Might have been nudged, might not have been. Marian wasn't tested for almost half a day; not impossible she'd been given more than just booze. I can think of a half dozen concoctions that could have resulted in this sort of outcome; anything from things to open her to suggestion to trashing her judgment and critical thinking a hundred times worse than booze ever could. Again, I don't know. I do know I want to look into that gang, the one the toxin came from. Real damn convenient that was."

[Isabela]

"Either that was real or we both got hit with something, because I remember the incident clearly," says Isabela. "But I wouldn't have let her keep any poisons she found on them. I didn't see her take any poison. They definitely had some, but I took all of it I could find and made her hand over some she found as well. So... I've been assuming she was clever enough to fake like I found all of it and keep some back, but maybe... not? But then, where did the poison come from?"

[Varric]

"A real possibility," Varric agrees after a moment. "If truth has value, I was just speculating that the gang had been formed or co-opted to provide a vector for the toxin to reach Hawke. But yeah, the toxin being given to her later on and her memory tweaked so she thought it came from them... That's a good theory to test out."

[Helene Dakesh]

"Query: Who is 'them'?"

[Varric]

Varric looks over at Isabela, given that she has the most-- and firsthand-- knowledge of the gang in question.

[Isabela]

"What, the gang? Well, they were--"

[Helene Dakesh]

"No, no. The supposed conspirators. Where do we posit the poison actually came from, if not the gang?"

[Varric]

Varric blinks, then shrugs. "I mean, if I knew, I'd use their names directly." A pause. "Well, under wards and drow nulstone I would anyway. But if you mean who I'm guessing they might--" 

"Your guesses can cover a great deal of ground," Lux puts in tentatively, tactfully not saying that Varric could and would consider everyone a possible suspect.

"Fine. My shortlist then," the dwarf says sourly. "It starts with a Bitch, shifts partially sideways to cover Estelle's still subterranean kin, any mortal allies-- inasmuch as that word can apply here-- of Tentos bitter about his forced retirement, the same for Tanna's, then hits on a purely political strike by Glaley, rounding out with an essentially unknown who was part of the many, many gangs and cults that Marian has broken in her career. That last is obviously the most nebulous. Runners up falling short on means are Raynare in Golden Green, Rosemary once of Cat Town, Carver in Glaley and someone in her school life pissed about something. Marian sleeping with someone or not sleeping with someone, her passing with," his mouth twists, "just above average grades despite slacking off horribly or jealousy about who she really is. Plus roughly half the Lights and nobles in Nyra trying for some political, social or financial advantage but this seems both too bold and too unpredictable for something that straightforward, though I'll be putting out feelers to see if anyone is ta-- Ha, of course they will. I should say, see if anyone is too quick or prepared at taking advantage of what happened."

[Helene Dakesh]

"That... is a lot of enemies," says Helene slowly, stroking Avato's back. 

[Isabela]

"Yeah, now that you lay it out like that... holy shit," breathes Isabela. "Maybe we shouldn't have let her go off to school without someone keeping an eye on her."

[Avato (Patchwork Bloke)]

Clearing his throat politely, Avato offers, "I-- that is, it would be no bother-- an honor in fact! Really, an honor--" He falters when Helene squeezes his shoulder, taking a deep breath. "Right. Boldly forth," he mutters swiftly in Celestial. "I would like to offer my help in researching the political, social and mercantile side of things. I have little skill in direct investigation but I am very well suited and even more practiced in combing through reports and the like to identify patterns or outliers."