In her dream, Eithne had been straddling the mage, her hands locked around his neck. He had been one of the ones that had fought back, had made her work for it, back in the time when she had been a mage-hunter. Her mind had taken her back to that night, how delightfully easy it had been to get the man to trust her in a bar, to whisper sweet nothings in his ear -- everyone had a weakness, and she had used her skills to glean that he was there to find a willing partner for the night.
It had been so easy to gain trust, to get him to let her near, and the dream excited her, the memory should have been a night mare, it was a nightmare -- she didn't kill any more, not where she could help it, but she had been so excited that night, so very very excited to watch the life bleed out of the man's eyes as she had locked her hands around his neck, had felt the hyoid bone in his neck snap like a twig, had flushed in the knowledge that her hands were the ones that were making the world a better, safer place.
In her nightmare though, the face shifted, contorted into Marcel's face. The setting was wrong, they had been in Orlais.. had been tracking down the infected, something he had talked her into. She wouldn't have taken the infected to be healed, a swift death was the best when it came to dealing with those infected, at least in her mind. So when she felt his hyoid bone snap in her hands, in her dream, she had startled awake, and immediately ashamed.
Because there, at their camp fire, in the middle of the night, she was straddling him, with her hands around his neck, her body trembling, and her brow sweat drenched, eyes panicked as she understood what was about to happen. Which will scare you the least.. that I was dreaming about a past kill, or that I want you to roughly fuck me right here, right now, with some light breath play?
Marcel blinked up at her, his eyes wide with surprise and concern. He could feel the tension in her trembling hands, the sheer panic and shame in her gaze. He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm despite the wild turn of events.
Eithne, hey, uh, he said softly, his voice steady. Look at me. You’re safe, okay? We’re both safe. He’d been having a rather peaceful dream himself, so the stark contrast of how he was woken up, had his head spinning.
He reached up, gently placing his hands over hers, carefully prying them away from his neck without any sudden movements. His touch was warm and reassuring, trying to ground her back to the present.
I’m not scared, Nope, totally not scared, or terrified, considering the woman on top of him could probably find a way to kill him with her little pinky, he continued, keeping his tone gentle but firm. I know you’re dealing with a lot, and I’m here to help you through it. We can talk about what happened in your dream, if you want, or we can just sit here until you feel better.
He gave her a small, reassuring smile, trying to bring some lightness to the situation. And as for your second question… I er uh, let’s just focus on getting you calm and comfortable right now. We’ll figure out the rest later. The whole thing had him flustered, suddenly realising he had a bit of a morning wood. He coughed and situated himself so that he was awkwardly angling his hips away from hers.
Marcel pulled her into a gentle embrace, hoping to offer her the comfort and safety she needed. You’re not alone, Eithne. I’m here with you, no matter what.
Marcel's hands were warm on her body, it helped ground her back into reality, helped her start to forget the nightmare, to bring her breathing back under control, to try and focus back into the here and the now. The past was over, he and the others had told her she could be, could do better. And it did nothing to quell the curling heat in her belly, the shame worse as she felt him press into her thigh, her eyes darting away from his earnest ones. Of course he would be good to her.
She wanted him to be good to her, so she was probably influencing him in some way, Calm? Please I felt that. She shook her head and then finally looked back to his face, letting him draw her into the hug, resting her chin on his shoulder, as her arms slid around his sides instead. Are you hurt? Can you breathe? Damnit, Mar, I almost killed you. She had the urge to force him to be still, to run her fingers through his hair and yank his head back, to bite the skin of his beautifully browned neck.
So to prevent her from doing something truly regrettable, she finally pried herself loose from his hold and slid off him, back to the bedroll next to the fire. Fuck, I almost killed you. Mar you, we. We can't travel together like this anymore. That was the plain of it. He was sweet, and she had known him from back when she had been hunting their own kind. Back when he had sold her some of those same people she had nightmares of now.
She had been so sure she had been making the world a better place by committing a genocide, that now, she couldn't even pretend that she was able to function like a normal human.
But, once she was free of his lap, she sought back out his arms, hiding her face in his chest. You still believe I can do this, right? Because if you don't believe in me, it's right back to being nothing but a murderer.
If she was honest with herself that would be easier.
Marcel tilted her chin up gently, looking into her eyes with unwavering conviction. I believe in you, Eithne. More than anything. You’re not a murderer anymore. You’re better than that, and I’ll keep believing in you until you can believe in yourself.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face, his touch tender. We’ll get through this together. One step at a time. You’re not alone, and you never will be as long as I’m here.
Marcel held her close, his heart aching for the pain she carried, but he remained steadfast in his support, determined to help her find her way out of the darkness.
And yes, calm, I er uh. It’s not that I wouldn’t, but not like this, not now, not while you’re upset. If we ever go there, I want it because you’ve fallen head over heels in love with me, not because you woke up from a dream that upset you, or uh, turned you on, or whatever. He chuckled quietly to himself, he didn’t want to be rude, and he wasn’t great at explaining himself, but Eithne meant a lot to him, and he wasn’t going to risk all that on what might end up being a one night stand.
At the end of the day, or even in the morning, she could trust in Marcel to help put her head back on properly. He was right, since she had parted way with her sister almost a decade ago now, she had been trying to do better and be better. She was still failing. All the time. Killing someone who got in their way was just too easy. And the Chantry had made her a ruthless killer after all. Without killing, she didn't know exactly who she was. She was a mage-hunter. And she had been an excellent mage-hunter.
But his fingers on her face, pushing hair aside drug her back out of those thoughts, those memories. Bless him, he was so adorably innocent in some ways, and in others, he was much more aware than she was. Head over heels, you say, might be a long while Marcel, you sure you want to wait on that? She knew he would. No matter what she told him. He hadn't left her yet, so he was in it for the long haul, but that didn't meant she was going to stop looking for excuses for him to..
To go find someone better.
It's okay to say both. We know I'm pretty fucked up, and it was both. She took a deep breath and then nodded, willing celibacy it was then. Because, she wouldn't go and seek out human comfort from anyone else. Not.. not because she couldn't, but because if Marcel was going to wait for her to get her shit together, she was going to make sure that he got Her. Dork. No one else would have stopped me, why do you have to be so roguishly pure?
It was in humor, of course. She knew better, she knew she couldn't trust herself to not.. be influencing him unknowingly. Right, now, you are here of your own free will, yes, you're not feeling like I accidentally slipped up and might have altered your feelings, right? She held his eyes now, now, that she knew she needed to see the free will there, not a struggle between emotions, a struggle to reconcile memories happening correctly. She would always be afraid of it with him.
Marcel stood quietly, his hand gently brushing her hair aside, his touch both comforting and tentative. He listened to her words, the weight of her struggles evident in the lines of her face, the tension in her voice. There was a deep sadness that echoed in his eyes as he absorbed her conflicted feelings, her doubts about herself, and their relationship.
I'm here because I want to be, Ethie, Marcel replied softly, his voice carrying a sincerity that matched the earnestness in his gaze. I know you've been through a lot, and I can't pretend to understand everything you've faced. But I've chosen to be here, with you, because... because I believe in you. Sure he knew what she went through with the templars when he met her as an adult, but as far as growing up in an orphanage, he hadn’t been there for all that.
He hesitated, searching for the right words to express what he felt. You're not fucked up, Ethie. You're strong. You've survived things that would break most people. And maybe... maybe it's okay to feel conflicted sometimes. To be both... fierce and vulnerable.
Marcel gently cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against her skin. You don't have to be perfect. None of us are. And... I'm not here out of obligation or duty. I'm here because... because I love you damn it. And that's not going to change. His words were a promise, spoken from the depth of his heart, a testament to his unwavering commitment despite the uncertainties that clouded their path.
A few years ago, she would have had no problems using that declaration to her advantage. Would have had no problem gently pressing him back down to the ground and using sex to keep him happy, to keep him firmly beside her. A few years back it would have been easier to be dishonest, to act and to say exactly what he wanted to hear. But something inside her broke a little at how much it would hurt him later down the line, if she wasn't honest right now.
You know I can't say it back, right? Eithne started gently, turning around so she that she could feed her arms around his middle, to hide her face against that hand he had just been using to try and calm her down. If I say it, I want to mean it. But I also don't want to give you hope that I will ever be to the point I can allow myself to feel like I can... she trailed off, because the tightness in her chest was growing more persistent, crushing, oppressive in it's heaviness.
She gulped down a breath, or tried to at least, as she hid her face more, feeling the shame creep back up. It hurt so badly, tearing down into her, deep, to be saying it. But she knew. I want you. I do. I want you more than I can bear, than I can speak. But Mar, I can't.. I can't ever.. Can't ever what, she asked herself. Can't ever be happy? She had done unspeakable things, would continue to do things when the morals aligned in such a way that she felt empowered to do something about it.
But this?
Her fingers curled into the back of his tunic, into fists as she struggled with the inner turmoil that took her from him. I would have you, right here, over and over, if I thought I could be who you wanted me to be. If I thought that one day I could be a good enough person to be deserving of that love. She took a deep breath, and slowly unfurled her fingers from his tunic and tried to let go, tried to step away.
She couldn't.
So she did what her body was screaming at her was right. Her nose tracing along his jaw, a hand coming up to cup along his cheek, to drag a thumb down his lower lip, dark orbs pausing a moment there on those lips, before tracing up further to his eyes. But I'll swear this to you, the day I think I can say it back to you, I will be yours, and you will be mine, if you'll have me. If you'll let me. She wanted to kiss him then, to seal that deal, but she knew if she did she wouldn't stop. She'd take and take and take until there was nothing left of him.
Until she had consumed all of him and left behind a shell where her Marcellus once was.
Marcel's breath hitched slightly as her words and touch stirred something deep within him. He closed his eyes for a moment, savouring the warmth and sincerity in her voice. He just let her speak her mind, unphased by the words she was speaking.It wasn’t like he’d expected her to say it back, he knew her well enough not to, but in the moment he’d felt himself needing to say the words just the same.
When he opened them again, his gaze was filled with a mixture of longing and determination.She was essentially his best friend, and that fact would never change, reciprocated feelings or not. Did he feel a bit stung because she wasn’t there yet in this moment, sure, but that didn’t upset him or make him feel less for her either.
I'll wait for as long as it takes, Ethie, I’m not going anywhere, even if it never happens. I don’t love you because of how you feel towards me, I love you because I just do, and that’s not going to change no matter what happens between us, or doesn’t happen as the case may be. he whispered, his voice steady. Just promise me one thing: don't give up on yourself. Because I won't. He leaned in slightly, their foreheads touching, sharing a brief, intimate moment before pulling back to give her the space she needed.
When his forehead touched hers, it was over for her. She knew, deep down, that she would go to the hells and back for this man, but she didn't know how to express that in a healthy way. He had been there, through thick and thin, had pulled her out of the worst bits of herself, and still helped her not to relapse into the parts of herself that never needed to see the light of day again. You don't make this fair, you know?
She whispered to him, her eyes closed as she tilted her head a bit, moving to where her nose touched his, to where she felt the tip of her own down the side of his. It felt like electricity, the slightest bit of air between them there, how easy it would be to close that hairs-breath between them -- she wanted it, badly, and ever part of her was screaming to claim him, to mark him, to kiss him, to fuck him until there was nothing left of either of them, the fight lost as she moved to close that space -- but fate wouldn't, couldn't have it. He was gone before her lips could touch his, the space now between them cold, and a reminder that she couldn't ever have him -- if not for her own good, for his. I'll try, she finally breathed, deeply, letting the sigh out as she nodded.
Now that I've made a total fool of myself, once again, how about we go ahead and pack up and get moving again -- these remnants aren't going to find themselves and Mar, if we sit back down I'll climb right back into your lap, all the more worked up I am. I need to do something that's not you right now.
Marcel stood there, the ache in his chest a constant reminder of the distance he had to maintain, no matter how much he longed to bridge it. He could feel the intensity of her emotions, mirrored in his own turbulent heart. Her whispered words hung in the air between them, each one a dagger edged with desire and pain.
He took a deep breath, steadying himself. It's never been fair, has it? he replied softly, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of their unspoken bond heavy in the silence. His eyes remained locked on hers, even as the space between them seemed to grow colder, more unbearable.
As she spoke of moving on, of needing to do something else, Marcel nodded slowly. He understood all too well the need for distraction, for action to drown out the chaos within. I get it. We’ve got a mission, and we need to stay focused, he said, his tone gentle but resolute. He got up and started gathering things together and delved into his earth magic to put out their camp fire, something he felt was far more efficient than putting it out with water.
Eithne snorted, almost bitterly, at his words, Never. I don't think we get fair after some of the things I've done. She leaned down and started to roll her bed roll up. It was close enough to dawn that she could reasonably argue that they needed to go ahead and get started. Either way, there was no way that she was going to be able to go back to sleep until dawn. She might as well stay awake and get a head start on their day.
She fished around in her satchel, pulling out some dried meat and a hunk of cheese that was being kept with their last small loaf of bread. She broke the loaf in half and then went to pass it over to him as she saw the magic being cast, her spine straightening some as she was right back to his side, food dropped back into place as she covered the ground between them in a few steps, going to stop him from casting. Not Mar, not him. He wasn't a mage, they couldn't be dragged back to a Circle..
But that was the thing, they wouldn't be dragged off to a Circle, not any more. Times were changing, minds were changing -- it wasn't like when she was a child, what she had grown up in. He wouldn't have to go through the same as she had, but the display had been enough to bring back the fear, the uncertainty. So she stood there, fingers holding to the sleeve of his robe, eyes tightly closed as she tried to fight back her own fears -- her past was not his future. She would make sure of it, but damn..
She was so afraid when it came to him and this new magic. Sorry, I know.. I know, okay, that it's not the same, not any more. But I can't help it. Maybe one day I won't get bent out of shape over you casting, but..
Marcel felt the tension in Eithne’s grip, her fear radiating off her in waves as she clung to his sleeve. He immediately stopped what he was doing, letting the magic dissipate harmlessly, his heart aching as he saw the struggle in her eyes, the memories that haunted her. He knew that magic was a complicated and painful subject for her, and he was determined to make sure she felt safe.
He placed a hand gently on top of hers, his touch steady and reassuring. Ethie, it’s okay. I’m not going to cast anything if it makes you uncomfortable. I promise, he said softly, his voice filled with a tenderness that he reserved only for her. Marcel had only gained the ability to use magic five years ago when the Veil fell. It was still a strange and somewhat unsettling thing for him, something he was still learning to navigate, just as the world was still learning how to adjust to mages no longer being hunted by Templars—at least, not officially.
You know, I’ve only been able to do this for five years now. Before that, I didn’t even know I had magic. It’s… strange, really. I spent my whole life thinking I was just a normal guy, and then suddenly, everything changed. I’m still getting used to it myself, still figuring out what it means to be a mage in this new world where Templars aren’t supposed to hunt us anymore. But I know it’s different for you. You’ve lived with this your whole life—the fear, the danger. I don’t want to add to that. If it means keeping you at ease, I won’t use magic unless it’s absolutely necessary. We’ll figure this out together, okay?
He squeezed her hand lightly, trying to convey his understanding and support. Marcel had never known the horrors of the Circles the way Eithne had, but he could imagine how deeply those experiences had scarred her. He wouldn’t push her or force her to confront those fears before she was ready.
You don’t have to apologize. I get it. You’ve been through things most people can’t even imagine, and I’m not going to pretend like everything’s fine just because the world says it’s changed. We’ll take this one step at a time, and I’ll be right here with you through it all, he continued, his voice soft but filled with determination.
Marcel released her hand, giving her space, but remained close, offering silent reassurance. The new reality of his powers was something he was still coming to terms with, but he knew that her comfort and safety were more important than anything else. For now, he would focus on what he could do—supporting her, being patient, and giving her the time she needed to heal at her own pace. The path ahead was uncertain, but Marcel was committed to walking it with her, every step of the way.
She hated that his first thought was that it made her uncomfortable, him using magic. Hated that his first thought was for her, when it was in actuality the fear that if he displayed the ability he'd be drug off to a Circle, away from her, that something would happen to rend him from her side. It was a pathetic feeling, to be afraid of having the only good thing in her life ripped away from her because of magic. How did she describe to him that if she had been what she had for so long, how did they know that there weren't other's like her out there that could possibly still be on mission. But she had to try because if she didn't, she would push him away in the mean time anyway.
I wish I could see the beauty in it, the amazement, and wonder that I know you feel when you command the earth to your bidding.. the power that courses through you, makes you feel invincible. I wish I could feel that still, but, she looked down at her hands as she remained paused there beside him, unable to move away, and unable to return to what she was doing. How did you make someone understand that your fear wasn't ...
She couldn't. All she could do right now was move on, and forward on the road they were traveling. And right now they had a mission to get done, to finish. There were missing people and this is what they did now -- there was no more where she was going to be told to go after apostates and renegades that were just.. normal people. Normal people like Marc that just happened to have command of magic, who never had to suffer the horrors of a Circle, nor a mage hunter like her. Okay, but if you're gonna be using it more, we're gonna work on barriers a lot.
At least that would put her mind at ease, and would give them both an outlet to start feeling comfortable with it all.
Marcel's heart ached as he listened to Eithne's words, understanding the depth of her fear and the scars left behind by her past. He knew that she wasn’t just uncomfortable with magic; it was a visceral, bone-deep terror of what it represented. The thought of being torn away from each other because of something as uncontrollable as magic was enough to send a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t begin to imagine what she had gone through, but he could see the toll it took on her every day.
He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. I know it’s not easy, Ethie, he said softly, his voice filled with compassion. And I don’t expect you to just snap your fingers and be okay with it. We’ve both got our own demons, but I promise you, I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure this out, together.
Marcel’s expression softened as he considered her suggestion. Barriers, huh? He gave a small, thoughtful nod. Maybe you’d feel more in control if you were teaching me some? You know a lot more than I do, I’ve been winging it.
He wanted to assure her that he’d do whatever it took to keep them safe, to keep them together, but he knew that words alone weren’t enough. Actions would speak louder, and he was determined to show her that she could trust him, that he would never put her in harm’s way.
Marcel then packed up the rest of their gear, his movements calm and deliberate, trying to set a pace that would help ease her anxiety. He knew the road ahead was fraught with challenges, both external and internal, but as long as they faced them together, he believed they could overcome anything.
As they set off, Marcel kept a close eye on Eithne, ready to offer support whenever she needed it. His resolve was unwavering—he was in this for the long haul, and no matter how difficult things became, he wouldn’t let her face it alone. They were a team, and he was determined to see her through the darkness, step by step.
The town rumoured to have the blight infecting it is just the next town we come to, shouldn’t be long before we’re there. He said, getting back to the task at hand, looking for blight infected people or animals for Rosalie Rutherford’s research.
That was right, they were out here on a mission, to find the next town over, to help the woman Rosalie? She had told them about the town, well told Marcel about the town and they had volunteered to go looking. Something of a chance to prove her commitment to redemption -- even if she didn't think she was owed a single chance at it. Time would only tell if she could even earn it. We can get started on that direction, make it about the time the first loaves of bread would hit the baker's stalls. If we even trust the food there.
Blight was a.. difficult thing. But it was a welcome distraction to think about, that he offered her, the 'divine punishment of the Maker', she had heard so many times by the Chantry, but she hadn't .. she didn't know what they were going to come upon. She had heard stories, had read the accounts herself, of the small one that had cropped up here and there in the past, and always the Wardens ...
Maybe? Her memories of what should be and should have been were still tricky for her, what she remembered here and there she questioned still -- it was why she clung so tight to Marcel, even when she knew she shouldn't -- she had been too lost in the power that her magic and her position had given, that she barely remembered anything but the killing -- history, family, missions.. none of it.
Not until the Five. The Five she had started putting memories together, finally, Tell me what we should expect? I'm so used to just solving the problem with a blade and a quick.. She made a small motion with her hand, like she was spinning one of her spells into existence, the untapped potential of her craft left dormant though, To really have paid much attention to any of the Blight things..
