Varric Tethras can't stand holding back the truth about Marian Hawke after the Inquisitor leaves her in the Fade to die. What he can't stand more is no one is trying to get her back. With the assistance of friends in surprising places, he fights in...
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The cool, fresh air is the first thing to catch his attention after passing through the wetless light in the embraces of his to-be. Sunlight flits across the fluid mirror. He scrunches his nose with a squint and sees impressions of the garden. Along the expanse, shimmers of people crowd around the exit and guide him in, waving, silently cheering. Hawke peeks over his shoulder and lets out a tiny gasp. Barely visible, silver faces look back at them as they open a path, back to their world, their time, their lives. An overwhelming feeling of thankfulness takes hold and he doesn't know if laughing or crying is appropriate. He follows Hawke in sharing smiles of generosity as the exit nears. Hawke waves back and breathes in the last bit of her old world, a world of dreams. Whether these spirits are a part of that is anyone's guess, or maybe a part of the portal, they give their best attempt at smiling back. They step through the wall and he swears he saw her parents...
"CONTRAGULATIONS!"
He's met with a deafening garden full of bellies, breasts, and oddly-fashioned shoes. Taller folks must be overcome with a thousand faces swarming them. A friendly horde, this time, but still made his heart do an integrity test against his insides.
The crowd cheers with ringing bells and drinks slopping in their grasp. Team Kirkwall and Inquisitor stand snugly between them and their recent exit, which retreats, and implodes in on itself with a wispy pop. Carver almost hacks it with his sword but Aveline stops him in time.
Hawke stands out among the group, beaming, taking in every face beaming in return.
Then she squats down next to him and says, "Is it my birthday?"
"No," Varric says, massaging his temple. "It's his."
Cassandra looks at Varric for answers. She won't get any with that scowl.
Solas, still soaking in Fade juice, grins at him.
"What?" Hawke says with a glance.
"I'll explain later."
"Good." Then she says something else in his ear to make his hair stand on end, and they needed to be alone together. He gives her a hungry look—
"Ladies and gentlemen, the future Marian Tethras!" Logan announces as she stands on a bench.
—A roar of applause pings his ear drums and he can barely hear himself. He stares at Solas who's clapping with the crowd. Dorian and his mustache grin too, along with the Inquisitor's council. Red banners shoot up randomly in the crowd with a teal and gold, sun and moon sigil resting evenly between a horizon line. The stitching glints in the vestiges of actual sun before thin clouds diffuse the rays, and soften the shadows in the garden. Josephine urges people to the hall for food, but are welcome to remain in the gardens for drinks and music. It almost seems impossible to wrangle the crowd but once the strangers hear there's cake, it's like watching a pond drain from a stream, and that's left are the people who matter most.
