Blood from Stone [AU]

[Smith Family]

Kyle moves the rest of the distance to her, enfolding her against his broad chest and strong arms. As always, he smells faintly of hot metal and ash, with just a hint of the mint and pine leaves  Jaina tucks into his dresser in a futile attempt at cutting the scent of his work. "Hush now, baby girl. Hush now. Sun'll come back, I promise."

[Coquette Blacquin]

She shakes her head, resisting his words even as she takes comfort in the strength of his arms, in the smell of him. Home, he smells like to her, and safety, and strength, and courage. If she ever spent time thinking about the gods, this is how she'd imagine Vangal smells: hot metal, ash, and a hint of mint and pine. 

[Marian Hawke]

'IT'S NOT ABOUT MARIAN!'

Liz's hand twitches, and she spills the fizzing liquid onto her hand, scalding her slightly. She yelps, but doesn't drop the beaker, switching it to her other hand before setting it onto a rack so she can plunge her hands into a basin of water she was planning to use to temper the liquid in a moment. She takes a deep breath, lets it out, and sets about spreading salve onto the burn, her hands only trembling a little. 

It's a real shame, too, as the alchemical solution begins to over-brew, turning a sickly green. She had performed each step previously perfectly -- but when she needed to wait a moment, needed to let it brew before taking the next step, and her mind had wandered back to the loose-tooth feeling of Cindy and The Breakup and Vigile.

[Varric]

"Good restraint." Varric keeps his voice even and low, trying not to stress Liz anymore than they already are. "Burn on the hand is bad, but better than dropping the jar to splash all over you legs or worse." He hands them a bag of denatured ash and sand, well suited for neutralizing the base orientation brew Liz had been working on. "Just the skin or did it reach your nails?"

[Marian Hawke]

Liz swallows hard, lifting the han to check. "Just the h-hand," she says, a hitch in her voice. 

[Varric]

Varric nods. "That's good. This stuff will dissolve keratin pretty quickly. The oil in your skin slow it down though." As he speaks, he dusts their hand with the bag's contents, which would almost instantly neutralize. "Let's rinse that off and see if we should bandage it or get Merrill."

[Marian Hawke]

"Sorry," she whispers, wincing. "I... sorry."

[Varric]

Varric gives her a soft look. "Not my hand that's been splashed with a mild base. Come on." Cleaning their hand only takes a moment and, after a brief inspection, applying a topical antibiotic and painkiller before wrapping it only a few minutes. "There we go... should heal just fine in a day or two really. But I think we're done for today. Let's have a sit and talk a while. Go over what happened." Varric is very protective and could even be said to coddle his kids at times. But alchemy isn't one of them, the dwarf being a strong supporter of the idea that having a few mild skin burns to start will prevent clouds of highly lethal gas later.

[Marian Hawke]

"Yes, sir," she says quietly, bowing her head as she moves to sit beside him, hands folded neatly in her lap.

[Varric]

Like that again, is it? "Whats going on in your head right now?"

[Marian Hawke]

"I... I'm sorry I messed up," she whispers, shivering.

[Varric]

"Did you learn something from it? Was there any permanent harm?"

[Marian Hawke]

She shakes her head to both questions. "I just... I got distracted. My head... I got distracted."

[Varric]

"Were you fighting off distraction the whole time?"

[Marian Hawke]

"Ye-yes?" she stammers, flinching.