Chapter Text
She did like the sea, she swore it. It was just so... nauseating . Surely, it was the sea and the sea alone making her feel this sick. She watched the sun set with tired eyes, staring through the hatch above at the darkening sky. It had nothing to do with the face of... someone , trapped in her mind’s eye. Not at all.
And then her baby sister shifted against her, closer to her. It almost disturbed their mother, who was napping at her other side. She pet Bethany’s hair, and let her use her big sister as a pillow. After all, what were siblings for?
Odd. She felt nauseous again, and the boat hadn’t even rocked very hard that time. Her head hurt, either way. So did the palms of her hands. Absently watching the clouds drift, she didn’t have very many thoughts at all. It was unnervingly quiet and still in her own mind. If she didn’t know better, she would have thought herself dying.
Nausea . She was already sick of feeling sick. Kirkwall will be better . That was the only thought that kept her strong enough to support them. She allowed herself a moment to imagine it, though dusting the cobwebs from her brain took a bit of effort. Well, more than usual.
They’d arrive in Kirkwall, and be welcomed in. Mother would get her status back, though it might take some effort, but there were likely no nobles that couldn’t be swayed with an excellent party. She could easily envision her taking charge, and putting together something astounding enough to wow the resident up and ups. Her mother was clever like that.
With the power they’d gain, Bethany would be easier to keep safe. Just the thought was enough to hold her sister closer. The templars would have far more trouble getting an apostate from a family with enough reputation and sway to hide such abilities. Bethany will like the high life , Marianne realized. She’d adore the dresses mother will make for her, and have a fun time being courted, if her suitors were respectful enough. And for their sake, they would be.
Aveline was family now. She was there for... A lot . Marianne swallowed once again, and took a deep breath to settle her stomach. She’d earned a spot in their rag tag group. Maybe she’d enjoy going out with her on the occasional raid. After all, for as much as it would please her to sit around in luxury and not worry about a thing, she knew herself well enough to predict her getting bored with that life very quickly. And, having a warrior would be very useful, considering she-
She didn’t have one anymore.
Marianne felt her stomach lurch at the thought, squeezing her eyes shut tight. After several deep, slow breaths, she opened them up again, and caught Aveline’s eye. She understood. They shared a moment of silence unlike the others that had already passed. This time, it was one of relief. It didn’t seem like she was the only one nauseous anymore.
Marianne looked back up to the sky, and with a sinking feeling, saw it was already night. Time was passing painfully slowly, and she desperately wished, with a sudden and intense, almost manic energy, that they would reach Kirkwall, soon . Not because of the future, but because the present was so damn unpleasant she couldn’t stand being here any longer.
But no amount of wishing would get the ship there faster. She hit her head against the wooden pole she leaned on, and watched the clouds drift by. Maker, she felt like screaming , but she didn’t know if she even remembered how to. It had been so quiet the entire trip, that even though they were all on the boat, it still felt as if she were drowning in it. Her nails dug into her palms, and she counted her own heart beats. She was going to go insane , she mused with a sense of dry, morbid amusement. She wouldn’t care, but Bethany needed her. Without her, Mother would have no protection but her, and she hated the thought of Beth fighting.
Marianne held back a groan. How long? How long could she stare at the same grains in the same old wood before she lost it? She knew very well she tended to exaggerate, but this time? She was serious. They’d been in the hold for weeks. Her head was spinning, and if she never went below deck on a ship again, she’d be relieved. She unfurled the hand not petting Bethany’s hair, and clenched it back into a fist, nails digging into her palms almost hard enough to draw blood.
She was strong, but Maker, she could only take so much before it broke her. Father, then Carver, now here she was, drowning on a ship that hadn’t sunk. It was overwhelming, and she hated it. This wasn’t something she could fight. She had no way of getting there, and out of this hell hole. It was crowded by other Fereldens, and refugees of the Blight. For all that she was, she wasn’t powerful enough. She never had been, she mused. She should have been. Strong enough to aid Father, strong enough to keep Carver from rushing in, or at least to keep him from rushing in alone. But she wasn’t strong, was she? She never hit hard, she hit fast, and even though speed was her specialty, she never seemed to be fast enough .
Maker, she hated, hated, hated this. Back and forth , back and forth , rocking on this damn ship, listening to retching refugees and sobbing Fereldens, catching concerned looks from Aveline that reminded her too much of her Father, watching Bethany get ill, and Mother grow frantic over her. She watched the stars gleam. She was absolutely sick of the view. She wanted out . Out of this hold, off the ship, off the sea, and hell , if she could manage it, out of Thedas . A better world where she didn’t have to worry herself raw for her family.
Another thing she hated , Marianne noted, was how many times she went in this circle . It made her thoughts grow foggy , and weak , like a snake eating her own tail.
No. She couldn’t go down this road again. Mother needed her. Beth needed her.
Aveline was watching her with concern now, but Hawke focused herself. Closing her eyes again, with a deep breath, she remembered something her father had taught them. A way of centering oneself. She began to go over the words to the songs and poems he had taught her as a young child. Bethany used it to keep herself from getting too overwhelmed by dreams. It worked to calm her down, and for Aveline to stop giving her those concerned side glances. But why wouldn’t it?
It was the seventy eighth time she’d done it on this trip.