The Winter's Queen [Magus AU]

[GamesMaster]

After breakfast, they hunt down a mirror; Zevran and Isabela are up by then, making their own breakfasts. They gather around the table to scry while the pair finish eating, letting Helene peek in on what Hawke is up to this morning. 

[Marian Hawke]

Hawke paces back and forth across the flagstones of the basement. Behind her, a small number of the frozen undead are draping a golden altar cloth over a large chair to create a throne; it's resting on a wooden platform they seem to have constructed simply to provide height for the thing, and the seating that was once present has all been removed. Yeah, that's a great sign.

She's rattling off a list of items as she paces: "--beds, more food, a bathtub, tea. What am I forgetting? Oh, of course, ale. Good dwarven ale, right papa?" 

She passes Varric's animated corpse, standing there as though listening, his pupil-less eyes staring off at nothing, his hands clasped behind his back. 

[Tethras Clan]

~...yeah, that's not unsettling at all,~ Varric mutters.

"That... is not a good look for you Varric," Zevran says slowly. "Is she... setting up at throne room?

[Carver Amell]

"Seems that way," says Carver, darkly. 

[Tethras Clan]

"Well, if we needed more proof that that thing isn't Hawke..." Zevran adds.

[Marian Hawke]

"We'll need four beds, of course: Merrill, Aveline, Zevran, and you. I don't sleep anymore, unfortunately." She gives a self-deprecatory laugh, one that likely rends at their hearts for being so very familiar. "Of course, I could crawl in with one of you-- not you, of course," she corrects. As she's passing him, she pauses to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Do you think Zevran will still think I'm..." She gestures down at her body. A moment later, she nods, with a small frown. "You're right, Varric. Of course you are. But I still worry."

[Tethras Clan]

"Hawke, yes, whatever the fuck you are, no," Zevran mutters darkly, shuddering slightly. Still, that laugh is... damn it. Focus on her- on its eyes. Empty. Wrong. Not even cold, but just... faded and hollow.

[Marian Hawke]

"Alright, then. I'm going to go check on Aveline and Merrill -- I'm so glad they at least have each other while I get things situated. Stay here, and let me know immediately when your men find him?" She smiles at Varric's corpse, who gives a nod. "Thanks, papa." 

She turns to head out of the throne room, then; the scrying fades out as she heads toward the stairs. 

[Carver Amell]

That's disturbing, Carver thinks to himself with a mental shudder. Touching her lips to a corpse -- talking to it, hearing it, she's.... My sister may be a bit disturbed, but not to that extent. That's...

An odd counter-thought, though, lurks just behind the main thread of disgust: I guess they really are like family. She was never half so affectionate toward me.

[Tethras Clan]

Saints and martyrs, that's...  All that keeps running trough his mind is 'they at least have each other'  over and over again. Fuck, I'm glad I can't actually be ill anymore. ~Well... okay, from a... practical standpoint, it's good to know it's focusing on settling in instead of spreading out or anything.~

[Carver Amell]

Good. To know. Carver's mental voice is disbelief incarnate. 

[Tethras Clan]

~It's easier if you focus on things that aren't... sickening. Focus on tactical information.~

"So... what's the plan for today?" Zevran asks as he reaches for Isabela's hand under the table.

~Good question. Uh. I think we need to contact the Lights, see what their plan is. We need a cleric or paladin. Or, best case, an inquisitor.~

[Carver Amell]

"Get in contact with the lights." Carver's voice is flat, his expression bleak. "Find a paladin." Won't the clerics mostly be dead?

[Tethras Clan]

~Some of them had to be out- visiting family, tending the sick or whatnot, collecting donations. Hells, doing some shopping. And not every temple is- was- on Preacher's Way. I might even have a name we can look into later.~

[Isabela]

Isabela takes Zevran's hand. "Good. A cleric would also work."