Blood from Stone [AU]

[Carver Amell]

Carver's tense, again, oddly enough. "She's pregnant," he says, sounding a little strained. "Yeah, I did some training up at the Oak a while back. I like the place, it's very peaceful."

[Tethras Clan]

"Y-yeah, it really is," Malcolm says, smile a little tight himself. For those that don't have to avoid a very upset mother anyway. "You uh, you get another soldier to add to your collection?" he adds quickly, wanting to fill the air before people notice his stutter.

[Carver Amell]

Carver's mouth runs dry, and he glances away. "No," he says, curtly. "Let's walk you to the house."

[Jassinth]

Jassinth, opening his mouth to comment on the 'my sister is pregnant by the way' thing, closes it at Carvers curt words. "...very well," he says tightly. "It will be nice to see Beth again. I should offer congratulations."

[Carver Amell]

This is going badly. Dammit. Dammit, Dad, why are you always right?! No, stop it. Breathe. You can do this. Deep breath. Push it down. Lock it away. Don't think about it. Get home, then you can hide. Just get home.

Carver turns, as if by rote, heading for the house.

[Tethras Clan]

The walk back is... lovely. Malcolm does his best to fill the air with smalltalk but between Carver's sudden brooding and Jassinth's equally sudden cold-shouldering... Well. He's a bard, but he's not a legend or anything. By the end of the walk, Malcolm is having a one-sided conversation with Hunter of all beings in the ground, the poor mabari doing his best to participate while giving Carver soulful worried eyes.

And being a canine.

When Carver lets them in, they can hear two voices, both female, talking in the living room. Entering, they see Beth seated across from Aveline, a tray of finger sandwiches and cookies between them. "Hawke! Good to-"

"Father?" Bethany blurts out, eyes wide.

"Bethany!" Relieved for multiple reasons to see her, Malcolm steps forward and leans down to pull her into a hug. "My baby girl, grown right up. You're well?"

"I- yes. I'm healthy and hale, Mal," she says softly.

[Carver Amell]

Carver hangs back, focusing on his breathing. Okay. Good. Now. Edge toward the door, maybe I can go slip off for a bit, try to get my head on straight. Malcolm and Beth will be a while chatting, and I'm sure Jass and Aveline won't notice if I'm not gone too long, so...

[Jassinth]

Jass slinks over to an out of the way spot against the wall next to the windows- the most poorly illuminated spot in the room. Looking sympathetic, Hunter goes with, pressing against his person's friend, even if his person is being a butt right now about it.

[Tethras Clan]

Beth and Malcolm do indeed get into a rapid fire conversation about babies and other doings since Malcolm's last visit. The elf has been pretty good about coming by at least once a season, either at the start or end of one of his wanderings. The last few years have been good to him, in regards to his maturity and moral fortitude, though he's aware it's too late for it to really count. The chatter doesn't stop the sharp-eyed Guard Captain from spotting Carver's behavior. Nor does it stop her from crisply- and loudly- barking out, "stand fast, Hawke! Why are you acting guilty or ashamed?"

[Carver Amell]

Carver jumps, his stomach lurching. "I-- I-- I just -- I -- excuse me," he mutters, turning to stumble toward the door, a hand over his stomach. 

[Tethras Clan]

A bolt of light hits him in the back, his physical distress vanishing in a wash of steely resolve and devotion. 

[Bethany]

"Carver?" Bethany cries out a second later as she bolts to her feet. "What's wrong?"

[Carver Amell]

"Nothing!" he squeaks, struggling to breathe. Don't worry Beth. "It's nothing, I just, it's, I'm, it's nothing, I'm fine, I promise, I'm just--"

[Tethras Clan]

"Having a panic attack," Aveline says crisply. "Take a knee, focus on your breathing for a minute. Then explain."

[Carver Amell]

"I'm not, I'm not panicking, why would I panic, there's nothing wrong with me," he stammers, but he drops to one knee as he does, warring with his breath. As he gets a handle on things, breathing slower, his mind races. Need to think of an excuse. Any excuse. Come on, stupid idiot, anything, anything! Dumb brain. Fucking hell, why can't I ever think of excuses on the spot, I'm going to have a dozen of them in bed tonight when I can't sleep but no, none of them right now, I should have thought this out in advance, I should have...

His eyes mist with tears which, paradoxically, makes him angrier.