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Usually, when Scarlett wakes, it is a slow process. It takes her mind and body a while to remember they are one being, so she just lies there for a while, just breathing, counting her breaths, and eventually, slides her eyes open to face the day. This time, though, she wakes abruptly, angrily, and she sits straight up, uncaring that the throbbing feeling in her head only worsens upon doing that.
“Hey, hey, whoa,” she hears Varric from one side of her, and feels his hands on her arm, which she tries to shake.
On her other side, a less familiar, and more calm voice, says, “you should lay back down,” also placing a hand on her shoulder.
Scarlett, however, doesn’t care to be placated. She fights against the hands holding her down, and cries out, “where the fuck is my sister?!”
“Star, calm down,” Varric says. Admittedly, his gentle timbre does ease her just slightly, but it does nothing in the way of stopping the tears that spring to her eyes, nor does it stop her from fighting against the unfamiliar hand holding her down by her sternum.
“You’re hurt,” that voice speaks serenely. “You need to relax.”
“You’re not answering my fucking question!” Scarlett is near sobbing with her words, and it’s only then that she turns to glare at the person attempting to soothe her. Lavellan. Right. The reason she’s in this fucking mess. Pulling Lavellan’s hand off of her, she growls, “and don’t touch me!”
“I apologize, but please –”
“Scarlett, listen to me.”
Varric’s voice is an anchor in a stormy sea, and it’s not often she gets her full name from him, so she turns to him, tears still streaming down her face as she pants heavily. She doesn’t speak, though, she just looks at him expectantly, nostrils flaring.
Varric continues, “I’ll tell you anything you want to know, but I need you to stay here so Lavellan can work her magic on that bump on your head.”
Scarlett nods, which admittedly hurts to do. She sighs then, shakily, trying to let out some of that anger so she can listen to Varric without seeing red. He didn’t hurt her. He would never hurt her. She’s not mad at him. She’s mad at her stupid sister.
“Lay down again,” Varric says, after glancing to Lavellan. Scarlett rolls her eyes, but does as she’s told, turning to face Varric. “Good. Thank you. Now… What do you want to know?”
“Where’s Charlotte?”
He sighs at that. Scar notices him playing with his necklace, and closes her eyes. It’s a nervous habit. She doesn’t like when he’s nervous.
“What do you remember, star?”
Scarlett whines, squeezing her eyes shut further. It pains her to remember, physically and mentally, even if Lavellan’s healing magic does help a slight bit. “The Fade,” she starts. “The Nightmare in it, and… Running. Then that fucking idiot not letting me stay. Fighting with her, a-and… Nothing.”
She feels Varric’s hand brush over hers, and she laces her fingers with his with a soft pained groan. “That’s about all that there is to remember,” he admits. “She knocked you over the head with her staff – got you pretty good, from what Lavellan was telling me. Alistair carried you out.”
Scarlett squeezes his hand. For a long time, she says nothing. Eventually, she just says, “I hate her.”
“No you don’t.”
“I don’t,” she whimpers. “I… Can’t lose her, too. I can’t! She was all I had… She is all I have left.”
Varric’s hand in hers is the only thing keeping her from crying right now, grounding her to the moment. He squeezes hers, and offers a quiet condolence, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Scarlett utters through gritted teeth. “Be angry. I’m fucking pissed off. She’s an idiot . She’s…” Scarlett tries to continue, but she’s interrupted by a loud sob. She shakes her head, then tries again, “s-so fucking stupid .”
“She’s always been stubborn, star. You know that.”
“Doesn’t mean I thought she’d do… That. She should’ve left me there.”
“And break my heart?” Varric runs a thumb over her cheek, wiping away a tear as he speaks. “I just got you back. Besides, she’s your older sister. Of course she’s got a martyr complex. I know that doesn’t make it any easier, starlet, but… It’s what I’ve got.”
“I… Yeah,” Scar sighs. “I hate her.”
“You’ll get over it.”
“Do you think… We’ll get her back?” She turns to Lavellan, then, who looks at her a little doe-eyed. “Can we get her back? You’ve got that anchor, right? C-Can you?”
“I… Don’t know,” Lavellan admits. “I’d have to ask Solas about that.”
Scarlett scoffs. Still, Lavellan’s tone is sweet and genuine enough that she knows she would tell her, if she knew. She’s not sugarcoating an ‘ I can’t ’. She just doesn’t know.
“Guess… We’ll find out,” she mutters, shifting her gaze and attention back to Varric. “Carver’s going to be pissed.”
“When isn’t he?”
That gets a pathetic little laugh out of Scarlett, and a strained half-smile. Maker, does she love him. He’s the one person she’d ever tolerate joking at a time like this; the person who pulled her out of her misery after Leandra died and she couldn’t stand to be around Char because both of them were trying to take the blame; the person she loves. She’s missed him dearly – letters don’t speak in that grisly voice, they don’t laugh at her jokes, they don’t hold her or stroke her cheek, they don’t fill the void that not having Varric next to her has caused. That void is filled now, another ripped open just beside it. She fears that if anything else is torn from her heart, she may just cease to be, but… That’s a hurdle she’ll jump when she gets to it. For now, she just tries to steady her breathing so she doesn’t pass out or throw up. Baby steps.
It’s hard, though. It’s hard to ignore the aching void in her heart when all she wants is to hug Char. When all she wants is to hear some stupid sarcastic remark about how they defeated that Nightmare like it was nothing, while wiping sweat off of her brow. She wants to hear her soften, then, and ask if she’s okay. She wants anything , and instead, all she has left of her sister is a painful void in her heart and throbbing bump on her head.
She can’t help but think about the way Char had been so lighthearted about the entire situation on their journey to Skyhold. After all, she’s her big sister, right? Why would she do anything but put on a brave face? Why would she tell Scarlett that she’s worried about working with the Wardens because it reminds her of the Deep Roads and how their brother is a Warden now? Why would she acknowledge all of the death and tragedy that they have dealt with if it would only hurt her? Why would she ever take even a moment to be serious about her own problems when she could just joke about them and then ask how Scar is doing instead? It’s what she’s always done, after all, so there would have been no reason for her to stop then. Scarlett would give anything to go back, to warn her, to let her know. To save her.
She knows that’s too much to ask for, though. She knows that, even though it feels like the world has stopped, it will keep going, no matter how much she wants it to just stop for a moment so she can grieve. That much becomes obvious when she hears people discussing their path for the next day just outside of the tent. They’re nowhere near Skyhold, nowhere near a safe bed for her to lie her head on. She’s on a fucking bedroll on the ground and Lavellan is gingerly changing the bandage on her head wound. Nothing is right and it fucking sucks.
What’s the worst, she thinks, is that guilty look on Char’s face the last she saw her. She can’t catch a fucking break. The last thing she saw of Bethany was a pained, terrified face, whose eyes needed to be closed long after her abrupt death. The last she saw of Carver was a frown of mutual understanding that they may not see one another for a long time. The last she saw of Leandra was her face, only her face, stitched onto a body that did not belong to her, looking horrified, looking wrong . Now, she has another painting to add to that shelf of Charlotte’s guilt for releasing Corypheus, of her realization that her obligation to Scarlett was going to kill her.
It’s enraging.
Between how exhausted she is and Lavellan’s insistent, soothing hum of a lullaby she’s never heard, Scarlett had almost fallen asleep, but once more, the white-hot tears streak down her cheeks and she trembles with unfettered rage. She doesn’t know what to do with it. She wants to scream and cry and throw things until someone knocks her out again. She wants to hurt somebody. She wants to bury herself in the sand and suffocate so maybe she can feel the pain that Char felt on her behalf. She wants all of that and more that she couldn’t possibly articulate, and all she manages is to pull her hand away from Varric’s to ball into a fist and slam into the ground.
Varric quietly asks, “Lavellan?”
“Yes?”
“You done bandaging her yet?”
“Yes.”
“Can I take her for a walk?”
“I… Wouldn’t normally recommend such a thing, but… It may do her some good.”
“Please,” Scarlett whines. “I want that.”
“Okay, star. Let’s get you up.”
Scarlett opens her eyes then, and, while she manages to sit up on her own, she’s not sure she can stand . It’s a pathetic look of realization on her face that gets Lavellan to ask, “do you want some help?”
She hates admitting to the person she should be angriest with that she needs help. She’s not even angry with her. Not anymore. She’s just angry at Char. Herself. The world. It’s not Lavellan’s fault. So, with her help, Scarlett stands, and leans shakily on Varric.
“It’s a good thing you’re short,” Varric remarks, “or I wouldn’t be able to help you.”
“ I’m short?” Scarlett laughs pitifully. “You’re –”
“I know, I know. I happen to be tall for a dwarf, thank you. You’re short for a human.”
“Fair,” she murmurs. She’s stumbling at first, but eventually, she manages to get a grip enough to just walk out of the tent with Varric and head towards… Nowhere. All around them, for as far as she can see, is just nowhere. It’s almost a comfort to be surrounded by such nothingness, especially when they get further away from the camp. He doesn’t lead her away completely, though. He leads her to a firepit with a couple of people gathered around it – people she sort of recognizes, but is unsure why she’s being brought to. “Where are you taking me?”
“Over there,” Varric gestures to the fire.
“Yeah, I got that. Why? There’s people there.”
“You’ll like ‘em. Besides… If I know you, you want a drink.”
“You’re… Incredible, Varric,” she breathes. “Won’t Lavellan be mad?”
“I’ll take the heat. C’mon.”
When they get to the small circle of people, their apparent roaring banter dies down to a lull, and Scarlett looks at them awkwardly. Varric helps her sit down, then sits next to her.
“Don’t let us interrupt,” Varric chuckles. “Tiny, hand that over.”
“This’ll knock you on your ass.”
“It’s for her.”
Scarlett watches as Varric has a wordless exchange of facial expressions with the qunari, who eventually does hand over the bottle. Varric holds it out to Scarlett, and she takes it. She does not question it, she just takes an experimental sip, then a longer drink when it doesn’t burn as bad as she’d thought it would. Maybe she’s just numb.
“Thanks,” she says after pulling the bottle away from her mouth and wiping it with the back of her other hand. She hands it back to the man who’d given it to her, and he nods. “I don’t think I’ve met you all,” she admits.
“You’ve met two of us,” he says, “but you’ve been through a lot, so I’ll introduce us again. I’m Iron Bull. This beautiful woman here is Miss Arzy Adaar. She’s Kathima – I mean, Lavellan’s right hand.” As he speaks, he points to the qunari woman next to him, then the other woman, a younger elf, “and this is Sera. Certified pain in the ass.”
“Hey!” Sera laughs as she says that, not at all sounding offended. “If I’m a pain in the arse, what are you ?”
“A menace.”
Sera giggles, then moves on. “We were missing you, Varric,” she says dramatically. “‘s no fun without your wisecracks around here, hey?”
“Glad to hear you’ve still got that charm,” Scarlett teases, and Varric only grins.
“So, Hawke,” Bull says, leaning in a little. “Varric’s told us all about you, already. Hearts in his eyes. It’s cute. But… Tell me about yourself.”
“Maker, I don’t know,” she laughs nervously. “I… Don’t have to do that much.”
“You only get one first impression, or whatever it is they say,” Sera encourages.
Scarlett chuckles, looking to her hands. “Name’s Scarlett, you can call me that. My sister w– is the Hawke. I’m just… Her little sister. Oh, Maker, I sound like our brother.” She sighs. “I don’t know. I’m sure you know all about my exploits in Kirkwall, there’s not much else.”
“Oi, do you know Cullen?” Sera asks this only to be elbowed by Bull almost immediately. “Ow!”
Scarlett’s eyes narrow. “Is he here?”
“He is,” Varric admits.
“You kept him from me?”
“Didn’t want your rage getting in the way. You can talk to him later, with a little less booze in your system, how’s that?”
“Probably a good idea. Speaking of which, hand that over again.” It’s Arzy who has the bottle then, and she gives it to Scarlett. “Thank you. You’re quiet. What’s your deal?”
Arzy laughs at that, nervously, and it’s then that Scarlett realizes why she’s so quiet, remembering how she’d gone pale and frozen up while they were in the Fade.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Scarlett softens as she speaks. “Like I just said… It’s hard to talk about yourself.”
“Yeah,” she sighs. “I’ll get back to you on that one.”
Scar nods, and leans against Varric a little bit. A silence befalls all of them then. It’s not awkward, or vacant. If anything, it’s full of emotion, of an understanding that none of them will ever be the same. Bull eventually breaks the silence, and says, “hey, Scarlett?”
“Yeah?”
“Sorry about what happened back there, with your sister.”
“Thanks,” she responds shakily, averting her eyes to the ground. “It was a whole mess. I don’t blame any of you for it, or anything.”
“Thank you,” Arzy says quietly.
“Of course. I… My sister is annoying like that. Always sacrificing herself for the good of others. It had to catch up with her eventually, right? Had to actually get her?” She lets out a sigh. “Maybe… She’s okay. Maybe she’s still alive in there, and we can pull her out. We’ll just have to see, I suppose.”
“Wishing you the best, there,” Sera says uncertainly. Scarlett can tell she’s not exactly the type to comfort people, so she smiles.
“Thanks. She’s stubborn. I’m just… Holding onto that.”
“Stubborn gets you a long way,” Bull says. “Trust me.”
“Spite gets you further,” Sera adds.
Scarlett laughs at that, sadly. “I’ll hold onto that, too.”
Thankfully, the discussion after that becomes much lighter, with Bull poking fun at Sera for her archery techniques, and Sera in turn making fun of Varric for ‘cheating’ by using a crossbow. Arzy stays quiet, and eventually, Scarlett makes eye contact with her, and offers her a small, reassuring smile. It hits her then that she’s doing exactly what Char does – pushing aside her own pain to make sure others are okay – but it feels right to do. Arzy smiles back, and seems to lighten up from there, if even just slightly. Eventually, Lavellan joins them and sits with Arzy, and she seems to animate a bit more after that. Soon after they are joined by Blackwall, and Scarlett’s spirits lift, if even a little bit. She has to have faith that Char will come back from this, that she’s alive and will continue to live and will, someday, get to have this kind of camaraderie again, drink good liquor, breathe fresh air, and all of the little things that Scarlett has taken for granted up until now. But, if not, Scarlett vows to be thankful for all of those things, for Charlotte’s sake.
After all, no matter how much she wishes it’d stop… The world keeps going, so Scarlett will, too. Stubbornly, spitefully, she will carry on.
