Imprints in Stone [AU]

[Tethras Clan]

"You need to get past that," Aveline informs him bluntly. "Devoting yourself to a person is one thing, but you can't make them your sum total. It's cruel to them. And it'll make you less effective if you can't be reasonable and rational."

[Carver Amell]

"You just claimed all my free time for learning to protect her," he points out. 

[Tethras Clan]

"No, I claimed all your free time to train. That skill, the knowledge you gain from it... they're tools, ones that can be turned towards any number of goals. Protecting your sister is just one of them." And hopefully the increased time apart helps both of you settle a bit. I should find a chance to talk to her, privately, come to think of it. She's a trainee at the Bastion temple, isn't she?

[Carver Amell]

"Fine. Whatever." He moves over to hand the waterskin back. "I'm going home."

[Tethras Clan]

"Probably for the best- they're likely to be worrying by now," Aveline allows. Been almost two hours. "Let's go then."

[Varric]

When Aveline got Carver back home, Varric invited her in for a brief conference with him and Helene. Besides introductions and explanations, the trio worked out a rough schedule for Carver's training, one that the young man begrudgingly approved of once presented. With an objection and a tweak or two, mostly to establish that he can decide things for himself, thank you very much. The next few days are pretty typical, but then Varric has a meeting with a caravan leader that runs not just up to but past dinner. Bethany, of course, is just a trifle annoyed, the young woman a very firm believer in family's eating together for supper. And breakfast for that matter. Lunch would be nice, but people can get busy. The merikos kender eventually leaves, but Varric doesn't emerge from his office for another forty minutes. 

Finally, he sticks his head out only to call the twins inside. And there's a pair of glasses, already poured, for both of them on the desk. "Whisky, neat for Carver, rum, simple syrup and lime for Beth," he says shortly, expression pensive.

[Carver Amell]

Carver frowns, taking his glass and leaning against the wall, all tension and nerves. "What's happened? Is it Mother?"

[Bethany]

Bethany, who had picked her own glass rather eager to try out strong drink for the first time (and craving a little something after not being able to have any deedubs for over a week now), stiffens. Gods, am I... hopeful? I- I hate her, but... I still shouldn't...

[Varric]

"Close but no," Varric says with a wince. "Years back, I... well, you both know by now that I like to know at least a little about everything, yeah?" Bethany snorts lightly, then takes a swallow from her drink, eyes widening at the taste- and burn. "Gonna want to sip that, Beth. Well anyway, a while back, when I first really started... getting tangled up with you lot, I put out some feelers. No real intentions of acting, just... didn't want to be surprised. Well... While I was enjoying the hospitality of the guard, they found... the person I was looking for. Couldn't really dig into it, obviously, so I just told them to keep tabs and get back to me if something big changed. Kind of forgot about it, between one thing and another." He pauses, taking a few small but rapid sips from his own tumbler.

[Carver Amell]

"What are you even talking about?" demands Carver, moving to take a small sip of his own. 

[Varric]

Coward, stop dancing around and say it. "Right, sorry. I located your dad. Village called Golden Green, about three days out. Small eleven enclave, pretty rural. He's-"

[Bethany]

Located your dad. Located- your dad. Your dad. Bethany can't hear anything else, not even the sound of her glass slipping from numb fingers to the floor.

[Carver Amell]

Carver rushes forward, grabs Beth's wrist, yanks her back toward him, away from the broken glass. "Beth," he whispers, wrapping his arms around her. My good for nothing father. I won't let him hurt Beth, not even just by existing. 

[Bethany]

"No!" Beth clings to Carver, trembling. "He's not- you're my- I don't- please don't send us-"

[Varric]

Varric jolts, cursing himself in ten different languages. "No, that's not- I wouldn't send him a flower to raise, much less my kids," Varric says quickly. "Not that-" he would take you in. "No, I'm not- this isn't me... getting rid of you. I swear it."