The Amell Legacy: Transgressions

[Varric]

"Not spent much time around teens, have you?" Varric sighs a little, crossing to the desk to set down a tray. "Here. I'm going to go after Shiny before she tries to smite the zi'Amells en masse to get her bestie back."

[Helene Dakesh]

"As you like," says Helene, simply. 

[Marian Hawke]

Caged like a dog.

That's the worst of it. Marian's been cold and lonely and hungry before; she's been sore, though not usually this sore, and miserable. She's cried herself to sleep before, she's spent the night in gang headquarters when she was out too late to sneak back into her dorm. She thought she'd been through the worst of everything. But the indignation, the sheer gall -- she's caged, with a metal collar, naked, like a dog. 

I am nobody. I am nothing. But dammit, I'm still a mortal. I'm not an animal. 

She holds out some small hope, dwindling as the hours pass. She's missing; why hasn't her master come for her yet? They've travelled through the underground far enough to be out of the city, she reckons, through the smuggler tunnels she'd proposed sneaking in through when they'd gotten here. Surely there can't be antiscrying wards down here? Surely... 

But Helene doesn't come. Varric doesn't come. Maybe they think I deserve this. Alydra knows I'm nothing but trouble. Maybe this is it. Maybe this is what I deserve.

Like an animal.

She hugs her knees, too sick to her stomach to speak. And what will they sell me for? A chambermaid? I'm not pretty enough for...

But she is, isn't she? Pretty girls might be trained as corteasans, but anything with a cunt can be a whore. Maybe this is what I get, what I deserve, for throwing my tainted self at perfection. Maybe that's why they're not coming -- maybe Lightsong told them what I am, and they understand better than she did. 

Maybe Lightsong is secretly glad to be rid of me. Just like Mother.

She can't quite believe that. Lightsong? Petty and small enough to want her harmed so long as she stays away? No. Never. Still, Lightsong doesn't appear, and as the night burns into morning, she begins to wonder if she was wrong about her as well. 

Maybe they're all just... lying to me. Pretending to like me. 

Like an animal.

[Varric]

Not having your own wide-spread network is annoying. Not having access to a wide-spread network at all is even worse. There's only so much I can get from the rudimentary network that I set up since getting here. And now this bullshit... damnit. Varric scowls as he hurries across Preacher's way towards the temple Helene is staying at. A long night of investigating had turned up little. Sneaking his way to Beth- with a letter from Lightsong- had gotten him a story about how Bells had stolen Hunter and run. The young woman hadn't bought it, distrusting the source, but... And, of course, having used the paperwork they had used to sneak into the town to get Bells the job for expediency's sake, Lightsong is now being questioned by the guard.

Which leaves just me free really. And maybe Seeker Helene, if I can get her off her ass. Should be able to at least get her to do a scry or two. Hopefully that gets me enough to get started. Finding the first loose thread is always the hardest part of unraveling a mystery. Slipping into a side entrance of the temple, he starts for the dorms, then pauses. Frowning, he changes course for the library instead. Odds are...

[Helene Dakesh]

He's correct, of course. Helene has filled his spot at the table with more books, deep into decrypting imagery and cross-language puzzles -- her favorite, her speciality. She's built almost a wall out of the books, penning herself into her alcove, unwilling or unable to get out even for food. 

[Varric]

"So it's actual trouble, just like Shiny thought. You willing to help find her?" No time spent on pleasantries or greetings, just straight to it.

[Helene Dakesh]

"This one is quite busy," begins Helene, not glancing up. "What sort of trouble?" she adds, hesitantly, a moment later. 

[Varric]

"According to Miss Beth, Jadan is claiming she stole the mabari pup and vanished, yesterday. No sign of her since. Best guess, Jadan has her. Maybe figured out who she is, maybe just wanted to get rid of the mabari to isolate Miss Carol- which is Beth's theory- or maybe he's a slaver or predator," Varric explains.

[Helene Dakesh]

"Is that all? The girl is resourceful, and she has Alydra's favor. She can get herself out of that." Helene's face smooths over, and she seems casual, relaxed -- but he can't help but notice her hand tapping against the book, as if counting out something in her head. 

One of those little tics she'd been punished for in That Place. 

[Varric]

Varric stares at her for a long moment. "Why are you trying to damn hard to make this something you don't have to help with?"

[Helene Dakesh]

"That girl is no longer my responsibility. I have not been instructed to aid her, I have no visions from Alydra -- she is none of my concern."

Stil, that hand keeps tapping. 

[Varric]

"Responsibility? Maybe not but... Of age or not, unless you've formally relinquished your mentorship, she is still in your care. And even so, there's still loyalty and friendship. I know you're a Seeker, not a Bright's or what have you, but still. Not all dreams and knowledge is found in books."

[Helene Dakesh]

"Friendship is not a gift given to one such as this," says Helene softly. "We had a formal arrangement. It ends when she turns seventeen, which she has. This one is no longer part of her story."

[Varric]

"Part of her... What the hells are you going on about? Tabby clearly cares about you, though she has trouble showing it. Or trusting it. This shite with her family... Her mother near as sold her to the temple. Her sisters forgot about her. Not sure, but I think her late uncle did worse. She has trouble trusting that people aren't gong to turn on or abandon her." A beat, a long, pointed look. "Like you are."

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene swallows, hard. "This one is not afraid. This one is an obedient servant. Alydra has requested this one's service, and this one serves. This one cares not for wordly things."