The Amell Legacy: Transgressions

[Marian Hawke]

"Disguises," says Marian slowly, thinking of the party she was at. "Such as masks? That might be a place to start -- you sketched out his facial features for us before but if he was in disguise... how would we recognize him if we saw him?"

[Varric]

Varric pauses, trying to think that one over. "Well... he's got a standard dwarven build really. Long beard of course, favors a five braid-weave, with a silver ring-tie. Hair's near the same as mine, a shade darker. Three-quarters of an inch shorter. Favors tunics over robes or shirts. Wears rings- signet ring of course, but also two gold rings on that hand, two silver and a steel on the left. Steel and one of the gold rings is magic, the others are decoration or decoys. Marks... He's got some spark burns on his hands, but so does a third of all locals. Got a small scar on the back of his neck but his hair covers it mostly. Got a longer scar, two- three inches, on his left waist, over a faint birthmark. Burn mark, leaned on a hot anvil as a kid."

[Marian Hawke]

As Varric stops, he can see Marian's stopped breathing, her body perfectly still. For a moment he gets a flash of Helene in the treatment center, holding rigidly stiff so ne won't be shocked or hit -- but no, this is Marian, who's never been hit for saying the wrong thing. 

And yet, Marian holds stiff, eyes wide, chest frozen, staring at nothing. If there was ever proof needed that she belongs in the same category of person as Varric and Helene...

"The birthmark," she whispers, before finally taking a short, sharp breath. "Three inches long, shaped like a crescent moon?"

[Varric]

"Not- it curves a little, he was still growing so it- wait, how do you..."

He can guess. He doesn't want to.

[Marian Hawke]

She grips her stomach, struggling to keep her lunch. "Toybox," she whispers, shuddering. "He was in the toybox. I-- he's part of Tanna's group."

[Varric]

Varric pales. Movements stiff and jerky, he grabs a wastebasket and places it in front of her. Then he leaves the room.

[Marian Hawke]

Marian lets out a small whimper just before she throws up, as he's leaving the room. Gods. Gods. That was Bartrand. Fucking Bartrand! Gods. 

She remembers him. She'd had plenty of time to burn his birthmark into her vision -- he'd monopolized her mouth for some time. Fortunately, it was because he'd been talking to the pair of men on her other end; he'd been distracted, kept losing track of what he was doing. Wiping her mouth, she reaches for paper, a quill, begins jotting down phrases, fragments, anything that comes to mind -- ignoring what her body is doing, just writing, letting the chills and shakes pass on their own. 

[Haliel Lightsong]

Haliel bursts into the room a moment later, heading right for Marian. "Beloved, Varric- he- what do you need?"

[Marian Hawke]

Marian shakes her head, still writing. Focusing on writing. Have to get my mind sorted, have to-- "Bartrand. Toybox," she blurts out, still working.

[Haliel Lightsong]

What? Why- oh. Oh Bastion's grace... No wonder Varric was- "Oh Marian..." Haliel moves to sit next to Marian, offering support but not getting in the way of Marian's efforts. After a few steps, she redirects to the bathroom to get a cup of water first.

[Marian Hawke]

She sips the water, taking deep breaths, and slowly, the shaking subsides. "He said-- things. About... I tried to-- I jotted it all down so I can read it out, so I don't have to remember. If he-- if he wants to come back or--"

[Haliel Lightsong]

"Just take a minute. He was holding hands with Helene when I ran here, I think... I think you both need a few minutes to breath. Or you- if you need, you can talk to me. About anything. Old research project or- or alchemy maybe?"

[Marian Hawke]

"This is important, if he's-- if Bianca's-- anything like what I--"

She takes a deep breath then, trying to stuff down the nausea. 

[Haliel Lightsong]

"I know. But better to take the time to... collect yourselves, to think and act well, than to rush," Haliel says gently. "Just a few moments, okay?"

[Marian Hawke]

She takes another deep breath. "It was the toybox. He was--"