Marian Tethras. Maker's blood, Anders, what's gotten into you? And the rest of the town, for that matter! Everyone's gone mad...
[She trails off uneasily. His words seem to have struck a chord within her. Kirkwall... That name feels like it should be important to her, and she can't quite shake it off. No, Mayfield is her home, not the City of Chains.]
Varric is your friend, Hawke. And mine. Not anyone's husband.
[Of all people, he never really expected Hawke to fall victim to what these people were capable of. It rattles him a little, and he sounds a bit more desperate.]
Varric is my husband. We have two beautiful children, we...
[No, she's Marian Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall. Unmarried, no children, just her merry little band of misfits and a mabari. But the memories are fleeting, no matter how hard she tries to hold onto them.]
I remember some things, but-- [A sigh.] I feel like I'm going mad.
[A dwarf? That sounds ridiculous, and yet it seems perfectly natural to imagine Varric as one...]
I keep having... flashes, but I can't-- [She's just a simple housewife, she's lived in Mayfield all her life, and all of this business about Kirkwall and mages and templars is just silly.]
I can't let you get away without trying some of this pie, Anders. Family recipe, you know!
Yes, with Meredith. She and I have been neighbors for years. She's one of my dearest friends! [She still can't figure out why being buddies with Meredith feels so wrong...
--Wait. What did he say?]
The... Chantry.
[Now that brings up a wholly unpleasant memory. It makes her stomach churn, and for some reason she really wants to hit you right now, Anders. B|]
Chaos. Lots of chaos. But I think that's a rather fitting descriptor for the past decade or so, don't you?
There was... an explosion. A big one. I think I helped with that. And... I had to make a choice, but don't I always...? [She pauses, breathing heavily.] This is giving me a headache.
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Hawke. Don't tell me they've gotten to you...
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--And why are you calling me that? [Though 'Hawke' does sound awfully familiar...] My name is Marian, you know that.
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[Because that seems like all that's holding the brainwashing at bay, from his perspective.]
... Yes. Marian Hawke. That's your name, no matter what this place would have you believe.
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[She trails off uneasily. His words seem to have struck a chord within her. Kirkwall... That name feels like it should be important to her, and she can't quite shake it off. No, Mayfield is her home, not the City of Chains.]
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[Of all people, he never really expected Hawke to fall victim to what these people were capable of. It rattles him a little, and he sounds a bit more desperate.]
Please. You must remember something...
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[No, she's Marian Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall. Unmarried, no children, just her merry little band of misfits and a mabari. But the memories are fleeting, no matter how hard she tries to hold onto them.]
I remember some things, but-- [A sigh.] I feel like I'm going mad.
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[Oh yes! That's progress!]
You're not mad. They're trying to make you feel that way. You're my friend... a woman of incredible strength. You can beat them, Hawke.
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I keep having... flashes, but I can't-- [She's just a simple housewife, she's lived in Mayfield all her life, and all of this business about Kirkwall and mages and templars is just silly.]
I can't let you get away without trying some of this pie, Anders. Family recipe, you know!
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[Silence. This can't be happening.]
No... Hawke. Please.
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Oh, but you should come watch the fireworks with Meredith and me -- ah, we could have a picnic. It'll be fun!
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... With Meredith? The Knight-Commander? You... you have gone mad.
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--Wait. What did he say?]
The... Chantry.
[Now that brings up a wholly unpleasant memory. It makes her stomach churn, and for some reason she really wants to hit you right now, Anders. B|]
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[Right now, Anders will take that. Wanting to hit him is better than having him picnic with the templar commander.]
Yes. The Chantry. What do you remember about the Chantry?
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There was... an explosion. A big one. I think I helped with that. And... I had to make a choice, but don't I always...? [She pauses, breathing heavily.] This is giving me a headache.
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[He pauses, listening.] Yes. That's better -- don't forget. Please.
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