Work Text:
Marian was never one to let a slight slide. She learned young that any perceived weakness earned her, and by extension her family, nothing but grief. After the twins were born she aged quickly; the only five year old, according to her parents, who did her chores without being asked. Oftentimes while Malcolm and Leandra were away from the house, for any number of reasons including luring Templars away, Marian would tend to her baby siblings.
And even when they were infants, the twins were set in their ways. Bubbly Bethy and Serious Carver. Carver seemed to understand when a situation required silence, he rarely cried anyway, but when Marian was tense, so was he. Bethany, on the other hand, required constant attending. She would babble and coo in an effort to win your affection and if that took too long she resorted to whimpering and wailing until she was held into placation.
Regardless, Marian loved her siblings in her own way. She kept them entertained while their mother kept house and father was studying. In the end neither were without her by their side for very long, even when she wanted to be alone.
When the age of her changing came, however, Marian began to pull back. Not just from her sibs, but from everyone. For so long they had shared space and thought, she just wanted something of her own. And she was strong, everyone said so. But she had so very few options to try.
And then Bethy set the curtains on fire during a tantrum.
So she sought out the meanest, loudest cuss in the tavern to convince him to teach her how to swing a sword. Without her parents knowing, of course.
It went against everything she had been taught. Run. Hide. Wait. Never, ever engage in anything that would draw attention. And never, ever, ever give the Templars pause or reason for concern.
But, and deep down she knew this to be true beyond any doubt, one day she would need to protect her family in a far more tangible way than her father or mother were capable of. Not that either would ever shirk from their duty. But if she could bear the shield for them, so much the better.
She and Carver became close. He was bitter over not presenting with magic, angry that Bethany received so much more attention from their parents. For Carver’s seventh nameday, Marian gave him her practice sword.
Between the two of them they garnered quite a reputation; nothing like mercenaries, but willing to do any job that would pay. They were angry together, and their anger fed the other’s until they picked a fight with an off-duty recruit. They won, it wasn’t even a real contest, but it was a pair of Templars who dragged the scuffle to a close. It was the same pair that hauled the still swinging and cussing Hawke children home.
The Hawke family relocated that night.
Leandra all but forbid their gear to come with them, no matter that Marian glared down her nose at her mother Like you can stop me, like you don’t need this from me. She hissed, malice making her face hot and tight.
It was Malcolm, eternally calm in the face of their raging We don’t. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.
Marian didn’t say a word during the fortnight of their travels. She stayed sullen and lashed out whenever anyone tried to get close. Carver didn’t take it well. But Bethany took it as a challenge.
You know , she began one night, creeping out of her tent to join her sister’s watch, you’re smarter than this. You do know that we need you to protect us .
Marian tried hard not to huff but her shoulders rose and fell sharply and gave her away.
It’s not like mother was serious, we’d drown without you and Carver. It’s not like father or I can contribute. Bethany watched as her sister’s shoulders relaxed, dropping and rolling forward. She leaned over until her side met her sister’s strong arm. She didn’t say anything else, nor did she move.
Together they watched the sun rise and felt the heat of the fire bank behind them. Both knowing that their lives were asking far too much of children.
***
Lothering wasn’t all that bad, quiet and small and dull . By the time they arrived Carver wasn’t speaking to Marian at all, only making snide side comments when she could hear. And over the next couple of years they butted heads constantly. Marian refused to give up her duties, only now she insisted that Carver stay home. To guard them , she would say as she buckled her sword belt on.
Not that this helped Carver’s mood at all. Especially not now that Bethany was, at least in his eyes, monopolizing their parent’s time. Her moonblood had came halfway to their thirteenth nameday and it had sent Leandra into a tizzy.
Carver would disappear for days at a time, just walk out after dinner and then show up days later with a brace of rabbits or a deer. The only thing he outshines Marian in was hunting. And, oh, did he lord it over her.
“Ignore him,” Bethy would advise, calmer but no less stubborn with the weight of earned years in her voice.
“If I ignore him any harder,” Marian would grate through her teeth, seething with irritation, “he would cease to exist.” Her brother was the only thing that could set the usually affable, if sarcastic, warrior on edge.
Bethany would laugh at her, poke her in the side until Marian relented with a laugh, and then go to help Carver skin his find.
But those nights he was gone, Bethany and Marian would sit up together, neither able to sleep while their brother was away. Both worried. Bethany would fill the air with quiet chatter asking Marian about her latest girlfriend or newest form. And Marian, filled with impotent energy, would go through her paces and exercises until sunrise.
Sometimes, weary from night after night of no sleep, her sword would hit the ground with a heavy and final sounding thump and she would sit next to her sister as she read their father’s latest study request. And, sometimes, Bethany would put her arm around her sister’s shoulders and hold her close while the older girl tried her damnedest not to cry.
***
“It’s not your fault, you know.” Bethany said one night, apropo of nothing after hours of silent page turning.
Marian looked up at her from the ground, her feet pinned under her sister’s to hold them still while she crunched up and down. She stopped, raised her eyebrow, and then leaned up to thread her arms behind her knees.
“That Carver leaves,” she embellished.
“I’m pretty sure that’s Carver’s own fault, yes,” Marian replied in a leading tone.
“I mean, yes, he chooses to fly off the handle and fuck off. But I know you.” Bethany said with a shrug and turned the page. The fire in the grate flared a little higher as she gazed at it. “But I also know that he blames you and that you blame you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Marian mumbled as she returned to her crunches. She had to start from the beginning because she had lost count.
“Oh no , I’m sure you have no idea that you blame his anger on yourself. That you think he never learned to cope because you never taught him. Maker, Mar, you must think I’m dumb.” She snapped the book on her knees closed, the fire not quite enough of a reason for the spark in her eye. Her lips remained tight as she watched Marian continue her workout.
With a grunt, Marian sat up and pulled her feet away from Bethany. “Look, it’s not that you’re dumb . Maker knows, Andraste knows that you’re the most capable of us. But you two were my responsibility. And I turned my back on him.” Bethany watched her sister collapse in on herself, hands folding over her crossed ankles as her shoulders drooped forward, “I keep turning my back on him.”
Bethany didn’t laugh, the sound she made was too short for it to be a laugh. Neither did she scoff, it was too gentle to be something so scornful. But she made a short exclamation somewhere between the two that made Marian raise her eyes.
“Think highly of yourself, do you?” Bethany didn’t give her a chance to respond before ploughing forward sounding so much like their mother that Marian winced. “You’re sixteen! The only responsibility you have is the same as Carver and me. To make sure we aren’t found out.” She sighed, “Everything else pales in comparison, ya think?”
“Bethy…” Marian began, grasping for words as her jaw gaped and her hands, usually so sure, gripped together until her fingers began to turn white.
“No! We’re all in this together, and we all have our own ways. You go punch things twice your size, Carver goes hunting, and I get to clean it all up afterwards!” Marian refused to raise her gaze again, she could hear the tears in her sister’s voice and she quailed at having caused them. “Didn’t think about that, did you?” Bethany finished quietly.
Silence overtook them, the crackling of the fire and the distant and broken chirping of crickets filling the space between them, too early in the morning for even the birds to being calling. But Marian had never been good with stillness or with silence so she stood and paced out the door and into the field surrounding their shack. She walked with purpose towards to river that separated them from the rest of Lothering proper.
She didn’t turn to see if Bethany was following her, she didn’t really care at this point. Marian also knew that her sister was behind her the whole way. She led her into a cave, once infested with spiders of the giant variety, and only flinched a little when Bethany summoned her wisp. A scold came to her teeth, her lips parting and throat working, trying to remind her sister that they were not safe. But she choked them down, swallowing pride and anger and fear.
“You can’t clean up every mess, Bethy,” she said, not turning away from the pyre before her. It was old, long cold and scattered. But the scorching on the rock remained even years later. “It is my fault that Carver goes off. When we first got here, do you remember how much attention some of the local boys showed me?”
Bethany nodded and moved up to lean her shoulder against her sister. Always showing support.
“Well, he got into a fight with one of them, killed him.” Marian gave a hollow laugh, short and damp. “ You couldn’t’ve cleaned that up. Neither could Mum or Da.” She was still now, no shuffling of her feet or fidgeting with her fingers, “No, that was one I had to do myself. Carver was so proud that he was the one to protect me that time. He didn’t think of the consequences.” She shrugged with the shoulder away from Bethany. “I really laid into him.
“I reminded him why we had to move in the first place, who had picked the fight that I took the blame for. I’ve never had a black eye so long.” She curled her fingers instead of touching her eye as she remembered being proud of his form before anything else. “I told him if he ever did anything that threatened us ever again da and mum wouldn’t get the chance to deal with it. With him.
“I suggested he find a hobby for when he was too mad to think straight.”
Bethany inhaled a quiet ah , “And that’s when he started hunting.”
Marian nodded, eyes still on the blackened rock.
The first trilling of birds reached their ears at the same time and they turned to see a gentle glow against the cave wall behind them.
“Come on, let’s go watch the sun rise.” Bethany reached down to clasp her sister’s hand. “We haven’t done that in years .”
Marian couldn’t help thinking how young Bethy sounded, no matter that it was affect. None of them were children anymore.