Hazelnuts and plaid

[Aveline Vallen]

"Did you try anything else?" Aveline asks, taking great care to keep her tone curious, supportive, instead of, well, a guard's voice.

[Marian Hawke]

"Sure, of course. Sex works, but for less time. Talking about it was too painful. I didn't want to try other drugs, less safe drugs, though I have once or twice. throwing myself into schoolwork didn't really help, I couldn't focus."

[Varric]

"Why--" Varric has to cough softly, then swallow before he can actually talk cleanly. "Why not get medicine? Not--" He winces, not that either of them can see his face at the moment. "Sore subject right now, but why not something alchemical or herbal? Not-- not anything heavy, like-- like you were on, uh, a few years ago. Just something mild you could take regularly, to head off bad days."

[Marian Hawke]

Marian makes a face. "Should have. But ... I was on so many tonics before I didn't feel like myself most days. It felt like going backwards."

[Varric]

"Not-- Not the same ones," Varric says quickly, fumbling a touch in his haste. "There are much more mild ones, designed to be taken consistently, like a vitamin almost. And..." Marian can feel him not quite tense or twitch but something that she tentatively decides suggests awkwardness or reluctance. "I-- sometimes I-- I don't take-- not regularly, constantly, but..." He sighs gustily. "After Mori. During the Wager. In Orzammar. When my mother died."

[Marian Hawke]

Only one of those matters right now. "In Orzammar?" asks Marian, her voice barely audible. 

[Varric]

Marian feels a slight nod against her shoulder. Her Papa is rigid and his hands are tightly gripping her tunic as if to prevent himself from fleeing. "'got real used to have people I could trust," he says softly. "Nearby, I mean. I, uh, I--" He trails off, a very clear note of reluctant guilt in his voice. "Fuck. I didn't sleep much. Mostly at all."

[Marian Hawke]

"...For over a year? Oh, Papa," she sighs, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I wish... I wish I'd never... I wish I hadn't hurt you like I did."

[Varric]

"Four ninety-eight out of five sixteen," Varric corrects her automatically. And then goes silent, simultaneously marveling at his own stupidity and dreading the responses he's sure to get.

[Marian Hawke]

"Five seventeen," she corrects. "You didn't arrive until today." A pause. "Seventeen...."

[Aveline Vallen]

"...huh, I hadn't noti--"

"You've used Vigil for five hundred days in just a year and a half?" Aveline thunders, free hand slamming down on the armrest of her wheelchair. "Are you insane? What am I asking, even if you weren't before, that would fucking do it!"

[Marian Hawke]

Marian flinches. Just that -- a flinch, whether in response to Aveline yelling or the arm slam or what. 

[Aveline Vallen]

But they both notice, just a flinch or not. Varric pulls her a little closer and makes a wordless soothing noise and Aveline shifts forward with a soft grunt so she can stroke Hawke's hair again. "Sorry," she says quietly, regret clear in her voice. "I didn't mean to... to startle you," she says diplomatically. "It just-- dammit. My temper's never been great, I've just learned to leash it. Bit wilder since... last night. I'm sorry. I'll get it back under control, I promise."

[Marian Hawke]

"...please don't be mad at him," she whispers. "I don't... he's hurting. And it takes a lot to get him to open up like this and... and... and it's my fault to begin with, so if you have to be mad be mad at me."

[Aveline Vallen]

"I'm not--"

"She's not--"

There's a pause, then Varric snorts. Snickers. Laughs. It's weak and fighting to not be a sob, but it's a laugh. Above them, Aveline huffs loudly. "Blasted dwarf," she says, fondness overpowering the annoyance. "I'm not really mad. I'm upset with him for... leaving, but he's clearly realized his mistake there. I'm also really, really concerned about him right now. I can use Vigil as well and I know how addictively useful and also dangerous the spell can be."