Imprints in Stone [AU]

[Varric]

Varric sips his whisky. Long-lived boyo, I can wait'cha out.

[Carver Amell]

Carver continues to stare at his water for a few more minutes -- the longest Varric's ever seen him go without moving. Finally, he slumps into a chair, breaking down in big, wet sobs. "I d-d-don't k-know," he whimpers as he does.

[Varric]

"What do you like doing?" Varric asks softly. "When you're bored, what do you think about? Doesn't have to be a specific thing, it can be a type of thing."

[Carver Amell]

He shakes his head. "Everyone is dead," he chokes out, rubbing at his eyes furiously, his voice catching in his throat. "My friends. My girlfriend. My teacher. Marian. I can't-- everything that mattered to me is just gone."

[Varric]

"Not all of it," Varric says, reaching into his desk. "You have Bethany. You have me. You still have your gods. Your skills, memories. And... well, it's not much but I did- when I was back there, at Golden, I did some searching. Got- here." So saying, he pulls out a small copper glad, fire-hardened oak box. It's scorched a bit, but it's well made and wasn't varnished so it didn't actually burn despite the condition of the rest of the house the dwarf pulled it out of.

[Carver Amell]

He reaches for the box, cradling it close to his chest as he breaks into fresh sobs. A few moments later, and much more typically for him, he fumbles with the latch to get it open, eager to make sure his prized possessions are intact inside. 

They're a boy's possessions: an acorn, a toy soldier, some shiny pebbles. A folding knife (one that Varric recognizes). Half a heart made of dried clay. A little paper packet, sealed, with runes painted on the outside, marking it as a wishing packet: something to be opened when he becomes a man, holding a wish from his past self for his future. 

Carver closes the box, swallowing hard. "Thank you," he whispers. 

[Varric]

"Yeah. I..." He takes a deep breath. "I have some other stuff. Some of Beth's things, a few odds and ends that were joint and... and some of Marian's things as well. I... I was thinking that tomorrow morning, after breakfast, we could all go over it. But you were here so I figured... might as well give you yours now."

[Carver Amell]

For a few heartbeats he can't speak. "Did you-- did you find--?"

[Varric]

"...I don't know," Varric says softly. "I... I helped... there are a lot of unidentified... we- the response team and such, we uh, we ended up having to make a... community grave. Consecrated of course, she'll be... fine."  

[Carver Amell]

A community grave. He doesn't know. How could he not know? How badly was she-- 

Carver pales, slumping, with a hand over his mouth. Don'tthrowupdon'tthrowupdon'tthrowup

[Varric]

Varric moves fast, getting around the desk with his wastebasket within seconds. He shoves it at Carver's feet, rubbing at the young man's back gently. "Focus on breathing. In, then out. Focus on- focus on- on the weather. You were just outside, what's it going to be like tonight? Predict it for me. Deep breath, then think about the weather."

[Carver Amell]

"Rain," he croaks out, taking a deep breath. "I think, rain, clouds maybe, I--" He shakes his head, swallowing hard a few times, but manages not to throw up. 

[Varric]

"How bad? Just some rain? Storm? Gonna be windy? Deep breath first."

[Carver Amell]

"Sprinkling. Some, some wind, not a lot. This city never gets a lot. Walls." 

[Varric]

Huh. got a point. Only place that really gets wind is Blossom and... huh. They must have something in place for that (buried deep, two walls and the mountain). Maybe it bounces down off the mountain? "Good, that's good. How about tomorrow?"