#they were Extremely excited about him being back in inquisition (and dwarf inquisitors)

[damnation-if]

I vibe with Suchebh so hard for wanting to romance Varric. Bioware were cowards for not letting me date him.

the worst thing is that you can still flirt with him, in my opinion XD feels tricksy of them to put the flirts in when you can't romance him properly lmfao

[pikapeppa]

Fenris/f!Hawke and the Inquisition: Varric

Chapter 35 of Lovers In A Dangerous Time (i.e. Fenris the Inquisitor) is up on AO3! It’s a long one; read here on AO3 instead.

This week’s chapter is a 12k-word ode to Varric and his friendship with Fenris and Rynne Hawke. I had many Friendship Feels™ and sads for Varric while writing this, so I did a shitty garbage cartoon of Varric getting some well-deserved HUGS.

Fenris politely shook Bianca’s outstretched hand. “You are the designer of Varric’s crossbow, then?”

Bianca shot Varric a lopsided grin. “You told him, huh? You two must be close.” 

Varric tugged his earlobe. “Yeah, well… the elf’s not a big talker.” He gave Fenris a shifty look, then frowned at Bianca. “You’re taking a huge risk coming here yourself,” he said. “Maybe for both of us.”

His tone was uncharacteristically stern, and it further piqued Fenris’s curiosity. Fenris had never seen Varric so concerned about protecting someone he did business with, and this only reinforced the suspicions he and Hawke had always had about Varric’s enigmatic contact in the Merchants’ Guild.

Bianca rolled her eyes. “You’re such a worrier,” she scolded. “There’s a giant hole in the sky. I think the Merchants’ Guild has bigger things to think about.”

Varric snorted skeptically. He glanced over Fenris’s shoulder, and his face creased with even more discomfort before settling into resignation. A second later, Hawke bounded over to join them.

“Hello boys! And girl, it seems,” she said cheerfully. She slung one arm around Varric’s shoulders and gave Bianca an appreciative once-over. “Who’s your lovely friend, Varric?”

He sighed quietly, then gestured to Bianca. “Hawke, this is–”

“Rynne Hawke?” Bianca said. “Well well, the Champion herself.” She offered her hand and looked Hawke over with interest. “You dragged Varric into a fair number of scrapes back in Kirkwall, didn’t you?”

Her tone was warm and friendly, but the comment still made Fenris raise an eyebrow. Hawke, however, laughed and shook Bianca’s hand. “Guilty as charged,” she said. “Purveyor of problems for Kirkwall’s most handsome dwarf, that’s me.” 

Varric shifted his weight awkwardly. “Ah, come on. We all dragged you into just as much shit as you dragged us.” 

Hawke batted her eyelashes at Varric. “Aren’t you sweet to try and minimize my disastrous leadership,” she crooned. She kissed the top of Varric’s head, and Fenris noted that Bianca’s eyebrows rose very slightly. 

He cleared his throat. “Hawke, this is Bianca Davri.” 

She whipped around to stare at him. “What?” she blurted. Then she turned to gape at Bianca with fresh excitement. “You’re Bianca? The Bianca? Crossbow Bianca? Andraste’s tit, you don’t know how many times Varric saved our asses with that fabulous crossbow of yours. You know it took four whole years before he actually admitted that the crossbow was–” 

“–invented by you,” Fenris interrupted hastily, before Hawke could reveal that the crossbow was named after her. He couldn’t tell from Varric’s awkward expression whether it was something Bianca already knew. 

Hawke shot Fenris a very quick look before smiling at Bianca once more. “Yes, exactly,” she said. “You must be an extremely talented smith.”

“She really is,” Varric put in. 

Bianca chuckled and folded her arms. “Flatterer.” 

Hawke’s keen gaze flicked between the dwarves, and Fenris could practically see the questions writing themselves behind her eyes. He decided to step in before the conversation could devolve into an interrogation.

“What brings you to Skyhold, Bianca?” he asked. 

Varric sighed and tugged his ear again. “Bianca knows where Corypheus got his red lyrium,” he said. He looked sadly at Hawke and Fenris. “And so do you.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “The thaig Bartrand found?”

Bianca nodded. “The site has been leaked. There’s a Deep Roads entrance crawling with strange humans carrying out red lyrium by the cartful.”

“Oh shit,” Hawke said blankly. “So… so I guess there was more red lyrium down there than just the idol, then.” She grimaced apologetically at Varric, who shrugged morosely.

Fenris frowned at Varric. “But how did the location of the thaig get to Corypheus? Your brother was precious with that information.” He turned to Hawke. “You recall his threat to blindfold us until we arrived at the entrance.” 

Hawke snorted. “I still don’t think that was a joke.”

“Trust me, it wasn’t,” Varric said flatly, and Hawke smirked sympathetically at him.

Bianca waved dismissively. “How they found out isn’t important. What matters is that we know where they are now.”

Fenris nodded. “Where is the entrance they’re using?”

“In the Hinterlands,” Bianca said, to Fenris’s surprise. “Not far from Redcliffe Farm, actually.”

Hawke seemed equally surprised. “The Hinterlands?” she said incredulously. “But that’s so far from Kirkwall. There entire Waking Sea sits between the entrance we used and Redcliffe Village.” 

“The Deep Roads are all connected,” Varric reminded her. “Or they used to be.” 

“They went to every corner of the continent, maybe further,” Bianca added. “In theory, you could get to anywhere using the Deep Roads, but in practice…” She pulled a face. “Well, you’ve seen what’s down there. There’s a reason nobody uses them anymore.”

Hawke shot Fenris a resigned look. “And here we are, about to go back into them.”

“So it would seem,” Fenris said ruefully. 

Varric sighed. “Sorry, guys. I know this isn’t what we’d planned to do next…”

Fenris cut him off with a dismissive wave. “Don’t apologize. If we choke off Corypheus’s red lyrium supply, we are that much closer to destroying him.”

Bianca nodded briskly. “I’ll keep an eye on their operation. When you’re ready to shut it down, you’ve got my help.” She turned to Varric and tilted her head. “Try not to leave me waiting too long, Varric,” she drawled. “I’ve got my own work to do, you know.” With one last smile, she walked away, and Fenris couldn’t help but notice that Varric’s eyes followed her departure. 

Finally Varric sighed and looked up at him and Hawke. “Right. That’s not going to be trouble at all.” 

“No, not at all,” Hawke said cheerfully. “It’ll just be a nice vacation. You know how the rosy glow of red lyrium complements my skin tone.”

Fenris shot her a sharp look. “Don’t joke about that,” he said quietly. 

She winced apologetically and squeezed his hand. Then she seated herself comfortably at Varric’s writing table and gave him an expectant look. 

“So,” she said. Somehow she managed to imbue the single syllable with an entire missive’s worth of meaning.

Varric glanced at her, then chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. “Hawke…” 

She slumped forward on the table. “Varric, come on. We’re your best friends in the whole wide world. Talk to us!”

“Hawke,” Fenris said quietly, “perhaps Varric isn’t in the mood to speak of this.”

“That’s not the point,” she argued. “Sometimes some shit needs to be said. Or written,” she added with a quick pointed look at Fenris. “Or it’ll eat you alive.”

Fenris pursed his lips, but he couldn’t deny the truth of her words. Even he had been incapable of silently carrying his feelings for Hawke for all those years before Danarius’s death. If not for the outlet of the scribbled pages he’d kept hidden beneath his mattress, Fenris wasn’t sure how he would have coped. 

He silently took a seat beside her at Varric’s table, and she smiled at him. Varric, on the other hand, frowned at them in annoyance. “What shit are you talking about?” he said. “There’s no shit.”

Hawke gave him a skeptical look, then perched her chin on her fists. “I always thought it was weird that we never met her. You sent a lot of letters back and forth,” she said pointedly. “Keeping her away from us ruffians, were you?”

Her tone was playful, but her face was quite serious. Varric sighed heavily, then slowly sat at the table across from them. “I wasn’t… keeping her from you, specifically.”

Hawke raised her eyebrows but stayed silent, and Fenris waited along with her. Then Varric sighed and sat back in his chair. “She’s married,” he said, very quietly. 

Hawke’s face went blank. “Oh. Oh. Shit.” Her eyebrows tilted with sympathy. “So you’re her, er…?”

Varric shrugged. “Yeah. We’re still… or we were. Are. Sometimes.” He scratched his ear awkwardly. “Not for a long time, though. Not since she moved to Orlais.” His eyes were on the fire as he spoke, and Hawke reached across the table and took his hand. 

“Have you known her for longer than her husband?” Fenris asked.

Hawke frowned at him. “Why does that matter?”

Fenris shrugged. “I’m simply curious. It provides context.”

Varric cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve… I’ve known her for longer.” He glanced around the Great Hall shiftily, then lowered his voice before going on. “Her husband was picked out by her family. She wasn’t exactly, er, thrilled about the match. But she agreed to it eventually.” He shrugged. “I heard the wedding was lovely. The one Bianca actually showed up for, anyway.”

“What do you mean, the one she showed up for?” Hawke said softly. 

Varric sighed and pulled at his ear. “We, um… tried to elope before her first wedding. It didn’t… work out.”

“Oh. Oh balls,” Hawke said sadly.

Fenris raised his eyebrows. “I am… sorry, Varric,” he said slowly. 

Varric shrugged and gave them a little half-smile, and they were all silent for a moment. Hawke squeezed Varric’s hand once more before releasing him. “Why didn’t you ever tell us?” she asked.

“Their families are powerful in the Merchants’ Guild,” Varric explained. “If anyone found out…” He smirked wanly at them. “Well, I like being alive. The Guild are a cutthroat bunch. Literally. Not to mention that her family hates me. They were still sending assassins to Kirkwall by the time Cassandra dragged me away.” He chuckled. 

Hawke grimaced. “Well, that’s fucking grim. But why didn’t you tell us?”

Varric raised an eyebrow, and she gestured at herself and Fenris. “It’s just us. You know we wouldn’t tell anyone. And come on, I told you everything when we were back in Kirkwall. I even told you about the time I had that filthy sex dream about Fenris and Sebastian and a desire demon.”

Fenris looked at her in startlement. “What?”

She patted his hand. “Don’t worry, I was in the dream too.”

He frowned. “That is hardly what I–”

Varric chuckled. “Hey, I never asked you to tell me about that dream.”

She waved her hand impatiently. “I know, I know, but I did anyway. That’s my point. Didn’t you want to tell someone about all this? I mean…” She shot him a pleading look. “Varric, we’ve known each other for ten years and you didn’t say anything. We sort of guessed, but you didn’t say anything. Wasn’t that… hard?”

Varric’s smile faded, and he glanced at the fire and sighed. Then they heard a startled cry from the rotunda.  

Fenris sat up straight at the unexpected sound. “Was that… Cole?” he said cautiously.

“Sounded like it,” Varric said. “Let’s see what’s going on.” He pushed his chair back from the table and made his way toward Solas’s office.

Hawke tutted softly as she and Fenris rose to follow Varric. “He’s avoiding.”

“You did take a rather aggressive approach,” Fenris said. 

She shot him a chiding look. “You know I have a point, though. If he didn’t tell us about this, then he didn’t tell anyone. Has he just been sitting on this for over a decade and letting it fester?” 

Fenris shrugged helplessly. Hawke did have a point, but Fenris still couldn’t help but feel that they were prying.

“Everyone is not as compelled to share their life’s story as you,” he said gently.

“But Varric is a storyteller,” she argued. “He told my story. You can bet your life he’s going to tell yours when this is all done. Why wouldn’t he want to tell his own?”

“It is not a story,” Fenris said, more insistently now. “It is his life. It is private.” 

“I know that,” Hawke snapped quietly. “But if you can’t share your private shit with your closest friends, then what’s the point?”

Fenris pursed his lips. Again, she wasn’t wrong, and yet…

He placed his hand at the small of her back. “Come,” he muttered, and he ushered her into the rotunda.

Solas and Cole were standing in the middle of the office. Solas’s right hand was glowing with a faint green aura of magic, and a startled-looking Cole was rubbing his chest. 

“Oh, for…” Varric tsked and strode into the rotunda. “What are you doing to the kid?”

Cole turned to face him with wide eyes. “Stopping blood mages from binding me like the demons at Adamant. But it didn’t work,” he said sadly.

“Oh!” Hawke said in surprise. She hurried over to Cole and peered at the plain silver crest that was pinned to his chest. “This is the Amulet of the Unbound, hmm? It looks so plain. I bet Bels was disappointed to loot such a boring-looking bauble.” She smiled at Varric and Fenris. 

“Do not be deceived by its humble appearance. Its true nature is quite powerful,” Solas said absently. He was peering at the amulet over Hawke’s shoulder and rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Unfortunately, something is interfering with the enchantment.” 

Varric snorted. “Something like Cole not being a demon?” he said archly. 

Solas frowned at him, but Hawke replied. “Cole isn’t a demon,” she said. “He’s a spirit. The best spirit.” She hugged Cole’s arm encouragingly. 

Varric patted Cole’s elbow. “Yes, a spirit who is strangely like a person.” He shot Solas a pointed look. 

Cole pulled away from them and began pacing around the room. “I don’t matter. Just lock away the parts of me that someone else could knot together to make me follow!”

Hawke and Varric exchanged worried looks, and Fenris frowned. Cole had been quite calm in the past couple of weeks, and Cassandra had assured Fenris that his behaviour at Caer Oswin had been quite normal – or as normal as Cole ever was, given his constant cryptic comments and his tendency to appear unnoticed at inopportune times. But now it seemed that his agitation about being bound had returned in full force. 

Solas, as usual, was as calm as ever. “Focus on the amulet,” he said to Cole. “Tell me what you feel.”

Cole slowed down in his pacing, and Fenris watched apprehensively as his vacant blue gaze seemed to grow more vacant still. “Warm, soft blanket covering, but it... catches, tears. I’m the wrong shape, there’s something…” He pointed to the east. “There. That way.”

Hawke blinked. “There’s something in the stables that’s blocking the enchantment?”

“No,” Cole said. “Far. Farther. Hooking, hanging, holding on…”

Farther? Fenris thought. That didn’t exactly bode well. “How much farther?” he demanded. 

Cole shook his head slowly and didn’t answer, and Fenris scowled. If Cole couldn’t even say where the problem was, how was Solas supposed to fix it?

Varric patted Cole’s elbow. “All right, kid, find Cullen and work with him on the map to figure out where you’re sensing something wrong.”

Cole nodded. He twisted his fingers together and gave them a pleading look. “Will you come with me? All of you?”

Varric smiled. “Sure.”

Cole nodded eagerly, then started to stride out of the rotunda, but Hawke took hold of his arm before he could leave and pulled him into a hug. “You’re going to be fine,” she told Cole warmly. “Solas will fix it, all right?”

“All right,” Cole said, and he walked away. 

Varric, meanwhile, was facing Solas with his arms folded. “All right. I get it. You like spirits,” he said. “But he came into this world to be a person. Let him be one.”

Solas lifted his chin imperiously, but Hawke spoke before he could reply. “He already is a person,” she said. “He’s just a spirit-person, that’s all.”

Solas gave a tiny approving nod, but Varric raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Yeah. A spirit-person that magic spirit-saving amulets don’t work on,” he said pointedly. 

“And what alternative would you suggest?” Solas said archly. “That Cole remain vulnerable to perversion by mages such as the Venatori?”

Varric tucked his hands in his pockets. “All I’m saying is, maybe there’s a reason your amulet isn’t working. And maybe those Venatori demon-binding rituals wouldn’t work on him for the same reason.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t like Varric to engage debates about magic. He usually preferred to sit on the sidelines and make clever remarks. 

Hawke was also gazing at Varric in surprise. “You really think Cole would be all right if he was just… left alone?” 

“You’ve seen how he’s changed since he’s been here,” Varric reasoned. “He hardly ever does his little disappearing act anymore. He plays with Toby like a normal kid. He’s been spending a lot of time in the kitchens, and I think it’s because he wants to know what it’s like to eat.” He shrugged. “He wants to know what it’s like being a person. I think we should… let him.” 

Fenris studied Varric thoughtfully. What Varric was saying wasn’t untrue. Cole still said inappropriate things at inappropriate times, but he wasn’t phasing through the Fade as often as he used to, not unless they were in a fight.

Varric steadily met Solas’s stony stare. “I think Cole’s changed,” he said. “I don’t think he needs your amulet.”

Solas narrowed his eyes. “This is not some fanciful story, Child of the Stone. We cannot change our nature by wishing,” he said scathingly.

“You don’t think?” Varric said mildly.

Solas pursed his lips and looked away. His jaw was clenched, and Fenris waited to see what he would say, certain that the elven mage would come up with some sort of complicated and technical response. 

After a long, tense moment, however, Solas exhaled and faced Varric calmly. “However we deal with the problem, our next step is to track down whatever is interfering with the enchantment,” he said. “Let us hope the Commander will help Cole to localize the source of the problem.” With that, he sat in his desk chair – rather pointedly, Fenris thought – and opened a thick tome.

Varric shot Solas an exasperated look. “Got it. Someone wants their quiet time,” he muttered. He looked up at Fenris and Hawke. “You guys want to play a little diamondback?”

Fenris nodded, but Hawke hesitated, and Fenris noticed that she was nervously nibbling her lower lip. Finally she nodded. “I’ll join you soon,” she said. “I just want to talk to Solas for a minute.”

Solas looked up in surprise, then gestured silently for Hawke to approach. Fenris and Varric shrugged at each other, then left the rotunda to return to Varric’s table by the fire. 

Varric sighed as he plopped into his chair, then pulled over a deck of cards and started shuffling them. “Damn Chuckles and his amulets. Kid just needs a second to be himself without someone telling him what he needs to be.”

Fenris sat at the table and didn’t reply. In truth, he wasn’t sure what to think of all this. He certainly didn’t see Cole as being very much like a human, what with his unnerving ability to read everyone’s minds and his ability to slip across the threshold of the Fade at will. But he could see what Varric meant about Cole becoming more… human-like as time had gone on. 

But being human-like didn’t solve the issue of Cole being vulnerable to binding by malicious mages.

He shunted the problem aside for now. There was nothing they could do about it until Cole figured out where the so-called problem was coming from. Fenris could only hope it wasn’t too far out of their way. 

Varric dealt the cards, and they played a peaceful round of diamondback, which Varric won. Varric began shuffling the cards for another round, and Fenris leaned back in his chair and studied his friend thoughtfully. 

“Varric,” he said quietly, “why did you never speak of Bianca before?”

Varric shot him a quick glance before returning his attention to the cards in his hands. “It was easier,” he said.

“It was easier not to speak of her?” Fenris asked. 

Varric nodded. “Yeah. Easier not to talk about it, easier not to think about it…” He lowered the cards to the table for a moment and gave Fenris a chiding look. “Come on, elf, I thought you’d be on my side with this. You barely talked about Hawke all the time we were in Kirkwall, even though we could all see the puppy–”

“There were no puppy eyes,” Fenris complained. 

Varric smirked at him and dealt the cards, and they played another hand in friendly silence. But while selecting and discarding his cards, Fenris wondered whether he ought to tell Varric about the book of angst- and love-ridden letters he’d written about Hawke during the years before they’d finally gotten together. Fenris suspected that Varric might already know something about the letters, given that Fenris had procured all of his ink and parchment from Varric, but they’d never explicitly spoken about it. 

And for the first time, it struck Fenris as odd that he and Varric had never spoken about it. Aside from Hawke, Varric was his closest friend. And yet he’d only rarely spoken about Hawke to Varric during the years before their reunion.

A few minutes later, Fenris sighed and threw down his cards. “Venhedis.”

Varric chuckled. “Another round? Third time’s the charm.”

Fenris snorted. “For you, or for me?”

Varric smiled mysteriously. “I guess we’ll find out. You in?”

Fenris waved carelessly at the table. Varric’s smile widened as he started to shuffle again, and Fenris watched the brisk movements of his hands for a moment before speaking. “Have you ever considered writing about it?” he asked. “Keeping a… a journal of sorts, like Hawke used to do?”

“Nah,” Varric said casually. “Can’t be bothered. Too busy writing other things. More interesting things.” He met Fenris’s eye as he started to deal again. “That’s one of my favourite things about writing. Stepping into a different world, hearing other people’s voices and thoughts instead of your own for a while…” 

Fenris folded his arms thoughtfully. “It is an escape.” 

Varric smiled. “Yeah.”

Fenris returned his wry half-smile. But before Varric could finish dealing the hand, Hawke came over and plopped into the chair beside Fenris. 

She kicked off her flats and folded her legs. “Deal me in. I’m feeling lucky.”

Varric snorted. “At least one of you is. I’m slaughtering your husband here.”

Fenris huffed indignantly. “It can hardly be a slaughter if it has only been two rounds,” he muttered.

“Ah, the day’s still young,” Varric said easily. 

Hawke laughed and picked up her cards. They played a couple of turns, then Hawke sighed and put her cards down. 

Varric raised an eyebrow. “You’re throwing in so early? I thought you were feeling lucky.” Then he gave her a quizzical look. “What’s wrong?”

Fenris looked over at her; she looked anxious. “I’m worried about Cole,” she said. “I think…” She grimaced. “I think Solas should try again with the amulet once Cole has figured out what’s bothering him.”

Varric gave her a patient look. “The problem is that Cole’s not a spirit. That amulet’s not going to work.” He gestured for her to pick her cards up. “Come on, don’t throw in the towel just yet.”

Hawke picked her cards up, but she continued to gaze worriedly at Varric. “But if it’s just that he’s a… not completely a spirit, then why is he so focused on some strange thing over in that random direction?” She waved in a vague easterly direction. 

Fenris huffed and picked up another card from the deck. “Is there anyone in this castle who truly understands why Cole does what he does?”

Hawke pinched the underside of his arm. “Don’t play dumb, you handsome fool. I know you understand what he’s about.”

Fenris shrugged, and Hawke sat back in her chair. “Solas has never been wrong about spirits,” she said. “He knows more about magic than anyone I’ve ever met. More than my father, even, and he was the most well-learned mage I ever knew.” She glanced around the hall shiftily and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell Dorian I said that, though. He likes being my number one bookworm.”

Fenris frowned. “So you recommend that we allow Solas to fix the amulet.”

“I don’t think there’s any other choice,” she said. “Without the amulet, anyone could bind Cole. And he’s going to keep worrying about it.”

 Varric twisted his lips skeptically. “I dunno, Hawke. I just don’t think it’s going to work. I don’t think he’s a real spirit anymore.”

She smiled faintly at Varric. “I know, I know. He’s like your weird adopted ghost son. It’s very cute, Varric.”

Varric scoffed. “Now, I wouldn’t go that far.”

She snickered, then sighed and propped her elbows on the table. “I just… I really don’t want anyone to bind him. Imagine if someone made him into a demon and we had to… you know.” 

Fenris looked at her more seriously this time. This was what she was really worried about: something disastrous befalling one of their companions. And in truth, it was something Fenris dreaded too. If Cole did become a true demon, and Fenris was forced to kill him — forced to take away a companion that Hawke cared about…   

Varric lowered his cards. “Come on, Hawke, it won’t come to that,” he said gently. “The kid’s gonna be all right. We’re going to sort this out.”

“Varric is right. We will fix the problem,” Fenris said. “Wait and see what Cullen’s search turns up before you start to worry.” He tapped Hawke’s cards, which were lying forgotten on the table once more. “Now let’s continue this hand. You may even win this round.”

She grinned at him and picked up her cards. “How would you know that? Were you peeking?”

Fenris smirked. “Perhaps,” he said. “But it is hardly peeking if you were holding them out so carelessly.”

She chuckled, and he relaxed as the return of her humour chased away the worry that was staining her face. “You sneak. Spying on my cards,” she said happily. “Do you have a proclivity for illicit peeping that I never knew about? Because I can work with that…” Her grin grew salacious, and she bit her lip and leaned toward Fenris in a provocative manner.

Varric groaned loudly at her shameless behaviour, and Fenris scoffed and tucked his cards protectively against his chest. “Stop,” he said. “Cheating is for the feeble-minded and the lazy.” 

Hawke cackled and sat back. “I’ll remember that the next time you cheat on my behalf.” 

Varric and Fenris chuckled, and Hawke grinned and kicked her bare feet up on Varric’s table, just as she had always done since they’d all known each other. They continued poking fun at each other as they played their game, and for a short time, Fenris was able to put aside his concerns about spirits and malfunctioning amulets and illicit lyrium mines, and to enjoy a moment of friendly peace.

***********************

As luck would have it, Cullen and Cole localized the problem to the Hinterlands, and specifically to Redcliffe Village. On the one hand, Fenris was relieved; they were already planning to travel to the Hinterlands to meet Bianca and deal with the red Templars at the thaig, so it was a relatively simple matter to tag on a trip to the village while they were already in the area. 

On the other hand, Fenris had never had a more trying journey with Cole. Cole spent the trip muttering to himself with increasing fervency the closer they got to Redcliffe Village. By the time they were half a day’s walk from the village itself, Cole was so agitated that even Solas’s calm advice, Varric and Hawke’s cheerful attempts at chit-chat, and Toby’s entertaining antics weren’t enough to divert his attention from… whatever it was that was pulling him toward the village. 

As soon as Fenris and his companions set foot in the village, Cole looked up sharply, almost like a bloodhound scenting a foe.

“You,” he hissed. Then he disappeared.

“Fasta vass,” Fenris cursed. “Where–”

Toby barked in alarm, then took off at a run straight toward the monument of the Hero of Ferelden. Fenris and the rest of their party followed the mabari, and when they finally caught up with Toby and with Cole, Hawke grabbed Fenris’s arm in alarm: Cole had his dagger in hand, and he was looming over a terrified-looking middle-aged man. 

“Shit,” Hawke squeaked. “Who the fuck is that fellow?”

“Cole,” Fenris snapped, but Cole didn’t look up; he was too busy glaring at the middle-aged man with more ferocity than Fenris had ever seen in his seemingly-youthful face.

“You killed me!” he snarled at the terrified-looking man.

“Wh-what?” the man protested. “I don’t… I don’t even know you!”

Cole grasped the man’s hair and craned his head back. “You forgot,” he accused. “You locked me in the dungeon in the Spire and you forgot, and I died in the dark!”

The man’s face went pale. “The Spire?” he said faintly. 

Solas took a step forward. “Cole, stop,” he commanded.

Cole released the man, and he stumbled to his feet and ran away. Cole instantly made as though to follow him, but Varric hurried over and held out a hand. “Hey,” he said soothingly. “Just take it easy, kid.”

Cole pointed accusingly at the fleeing man. “He killed me. He killed me!” he yelled. “That’s why the amulet doesn’t work. He killed me, and I have to kill him back!”

Fenris gaped at him in utter bemusement. He wasn’t sure whether to be more unnerved by Cole’s extremely uncharacteristic rage, or by the nonsensical words he was saying.

Hawke laughed nervously. “What in Andraste’s knickers are you talking about?”

Solas shook his head. “Cole, that man cannot have killed you,” he said in his usual calm tone. “You are a spirit. You have not even possessed a body.”

Cole turned to face them. His eyes were huge and haunted, as though he’d just solved a terrible mystery. “A broken body, bloody, banged on the stone cell, guts gripping in the dark dank: a captured apostate.” He twisted his fingers together. “They threw him into the dungeon in the Spire at Val Royeaux. They forgot about him. He starved to death.” His gaze travelled slowly across each of their faces. “I came through to help, and I couldn’t. So I… became him. Cole.”

“Fuck,” Hawke breathed.

Fenris stared at Cole in nonplussed silence. Toby whimpered and pressed himself against Cole’s leg, but Cole ignored him; he was clenching his fists compulsively, his vacant expression becoming angry again as he glanced in the direction that the terrified man had run. 

He turned to face Fenris and the others, and Fenris felt a little jolt in his belly: Cole’s pale blue eyes were hard and intense, almost incandescent with focus.

He gazed steadily at Fenris. “Let me kill him,” he said. His voice was eerily calm. “I need to… I need to.”

Fenris swallowed hard and narrowed his eyes. “No,” he said brusquely. He pointed at the monument to the Hero of Ferelden. “Sit there and don’t move.”

Cole stared at him for another tense moment, then turned away and wandered over to the plinth of the Warden monument. Hawke shot Fenris a worried look, then wandered over to Cole with Toby at her side. 

Toby rested his chin on Cole’s thigh, and Hawke sat beside him and slung an arm around his skinny shoulders. “Cole, did I ever tell you about the time Fenris and I found these haunted scrolls back on Sundermount? Honestly, if you’d been there, you probably could have talked the demons into calming down, but as it was – Maker’s balls, did we almost get our asses handed to us…”

Fenris watched them for a moment. Cole didn’t seem to really be listening to her, but he also didn’t seem as intent on murdering anyone anymore. 

Varric clicked his tongue ruefully. “If the real Cole was an apostate, that would mean that guy he attacked was a Templar.”

Solas nodded. “We cannot let Cole kill the man.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. It was a bit rich to hear that from Solas, given how badly he’d wanted to kill the mages who had bound his demon friend in the Exalted Plains. 

Varric smirked at the elven mage. “I don’t think anyone was going to suggest that, Chuckles.”

Solas lifted his chin slightly, and Fenris folded his arms. “So the real Cole, the apostate, was captured by Templars and taken to the Spire.”

“Yes,” Solas said quietly. He watched Cole and Hawke as he spoke. “As the young man starved to death in the dungeon, his pain caught the attention of a spirit of compassion.” He looked at Fenris. “An uncommon spirit, certainly, as I have told you before. And all too fragile when its efforts to help proved to be in vain.”

Fenris frowned. “So the apostate died. And this spirit of compassion just… became him?”

Solas tilted his head equivocally. “In a manner of speaking,” he said slowly. “The death of the real Cole wounded him. The inability to help, to assuage the captured mage’s pain… It perverted him from his purpose. To regain that part of himself, he must forgive.”

Fenris raised his eyebrows skeptically. Forgiving someone for killing him? That sounded like an awfully tall order.

Varric seemed to be of a similar mind. “Come on,” he scoffed. “You don’t just forgive someone killing you.”

Solas folded his hands behind his back. “You don’t,” he said. “A spirit can.”

Varric shook his head. “The kid’s angry. He just needs to work through it,” he said.

Solas frowned. “A spirit does not work through emotions. It embodies them.”

“But he isn’t a spirit,” Varric insisted. “He made himself human, and humans change. They get hurt, and they heal. He needs to work it out like a person.”

“You would alter the essence of what he is,” Solas snapped.

“He did that to himself when he left the Fade,” Varric said with a shrug. “I’m just helping him survive it.”

Solas pursed his lips and looked away, and Fenris frowned pensively at Cole. Hawke was still talking softly to him while he patted Toby’s head, and as Fenris watched, Cole shot her a very small smile. 

She smiled back at him and pinched his cheek, just like she used to do with Carver, and Fenris swallowed hard. She can’t lose him, he thought. If something happened to Cole, and Fenris was at all responsible… 

He turned to Varric and Solas. “Cole needs to be immune to binding by mages,” he said. “That is all that matters.”

“He can’t be bound by mages,” Varric insisted. “He’s not a demon.”

“You cannot guarantee that he will not be bound,” Solas retorted. “I, however, can guarantee that the amulet will work if Cole forgives the Templar.”

“Come on, Chuckles, give the kid a chance,” Varric said in exasperation. “I know you love the Fade and all that, but Cole just wants to walk in this world as a human.”

Fenris rubbed his jaw for a moment. He understood where Varric was coming from; he too had grown more comfortable with Cole since he’d started acting less… spirit-y. 

But… but Varric was wrong. Cole hadn’t crossed the Veil because he wanted to be a human. He’d been pulled through by someone else’s pain, and if that lingering pain made him vulnerable to perversion by blood mages… 

Fenris shot Solas a hard look. “You are absolutely certain the amulet will work if Cole forgives the Templar?”

“Yes,” Solas said firmly. 

Fenris took a deep breath. He was loathe to go against Varric’s wishes, but he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t risk Cole being twisted into a demon. 

He nodded to Solas. “Make him forgive the Templar. Make that amulet work,” he said sternly. 

A small smile lifted Solas’s lips. He nodded his thanks to Fenris, then stepped away to approach Cole and Hawke. He gestured for Cole to rise, and Cole and Solas walked away together in the direction that the Templar had run. 

Beside Fenris, Varric sighed and shook his head. “Shit,” he muttered. He moved away to join Hawke, who was still sitting on the plinth of the Warden monument with Toby at her side. 

Fenris followed him, and Hawke looked up at them as they approached. “So Solas is going to fix the amulet?”

Varric sat beside her without speaking, and Fenris replied. “Yes,” he said. “He swore the amulet would work after this.”

Hawke perked up and clapped her hands. “Fantastic! That’s great.” 

Varric continued to sit beside her in silence, and Fenris’s gut jolted uncomfortably. He slowly sat on Varric’s other side. “I am sorry,” he said quietly. 

Varric shrugged sadly, and Hawke frowned. “Wait. Sorry for what?”

Varric sat back and looked at her. “Kid’s going to be more of a spirit after this. That’s how that amulet thing will work. Or so he says.” He jerked his chin in Solas’s direction. 

Hawke raised her eyebrows. “Oh. But… but he’ll be safe, though?”

Fenris nodded. “Solas guaranteed that the amulet will work. Cole will be immune to binding by enemy mages.”

“But that’s a good thing. Right?” Hawke said. She gazed at Varric worriedly. “We wanted him to be safe. Right?”

Varric shrugged again. “Sure. But… ah, I don’t know.” He ran a hand over his hair and looked at Fenris. “I’m not… mad,” he said slowly. “It’s just…” He trailed off and leaned back against the statue, and Fenris and Hawke exchanged a worried look as the silence stretched tensely between them. 

Hawke hooked her arm around Varric’s neck and shook him encouragingly. “Come on, Varric, tell us what’s on that brilliant mind of yours.” 

Varric sat silently for another long moment. Then he sighed loudly and shot her a frank look. “You ever feel like you’re just an observer along for the ride?” he said. “Just watching everything happening while it all just… rolls out in front of you?” 

Hawke raised her eyebrows in surprise and opened her mouth, but Varric chuckled before she could reply. “Ah, of course you don’t. Everything you do changes something. And you too, elf,” he added to Fenris. “You guys are the protagonists. You’re the heroes in the story.”

Hawke frowned worriedly. “But… but you’re the one who painted us that way,” she said slowly.

He waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t just mean my books. I mean… I mean in everything. You show up, and things happen. You change things. People change around you.” He smiled faintly at her. “It does make for a good story, though.”

Hawke’s frown deepened. “What are you talking about? You change things, too. I’d probably still be working for Athenril if it wasn’t for you.”

He snorted. “Right. And look how well that turned out. We got trapped in the Deep Roads and almost died.”

Fenris frowned. “That wasn’t your fault.”

“Sure, but I couldn’t stop it, either,” Varric insisted. “I couldn’t… and then my damned brother…” He trailed off and tugged one of his earrings, and Hawke and Fenris exchanged another worried look. The last time they’d seen Varric this agitated was when Bartrand had turned up in Kirkwall after years of absence. 

Hawke squeezed Varric’s arm. “Varric, listen–” 

“I’m an observer,” Varric said baldly. “That’s it. That’s the story of Varric Tethras: he watched things happening and did nothing to change it.” He gestured at her. “I wanted to keep you guys out of this, and here you are, mixed up in the middle of it.” He ran a hand over his hair once more. “I wanted to help my brother, but he’ll probably be in that sanitarium forever. And now with Cole…” He gave them a wry little smile. “Well, you know what they say. If you can’t do, write. Or something like that.”

Hawke didn’t reply, and Fenris noticed with a pang that she looked close to tears. He gave Varric a frank look of his own. “You did keep Hawke safe for years,” he said firmly. “You are hardly an impotent bystander.”

Varric shot him a tiny smirk. “Impotent, huh? You and Hawke need to spend less time together.”

Hawke let out a wobbly-sounding little laugh. “You filthy men,” she said. “I love it.” Then she hugged Varric’s arm again. “You’re not useless,” she insisted. “You’ve never just been a bystander. We’re all here fighting Corypheus together now, right? That’s not doing nothing.”

Varric shrugged again. Then he looked up and raised his eyebrows. “They’re back,” he said.

Fenris and Hawke looked up as well. Solas and Cole were approaching them, and Solas was smiling. 

He squeezed Cole’s shoulder. “I believe we are finished here.”

Hawke sighed in relief and smiled at Solas. Varric stood up and patted Cole’s elbow. “You all right, kid?” he said gently. 

Cole blinked down at him. His expression was more neutral and blank than ever. “Yes,” he said. “He’s free. We’re both free.” His eyes drifted vaguely over the village. “There is work, wounded to help, hurts to heal. But the weight is off. The old chains have fallen.”

Solas smiled more widely at him, but Varric was frowning. “So you’re not angry with the man who hurt you?” he asked. 

“No,” Cole said dreamily. “I helped him forget. His pain no longer pulls at me.”

Fenris looked at him sharply. “You made him forget?” he demanded. “I told you not to do that!”

Solas held out a placating hand. “Fenris, if I may–” 

Cole interrupted him. “He wanted to,” he said to Fenris. “He needed it, but he didn’t know how.” He blinked benignly at Fenris. “Yours are lost, but not forgotten. Lingering, lying low, layered with old pain, but not forgotten. You could remember, but you don’t. The loss doesn’t pull you anymore. You found peace.” 

Fenris stared at him. His heart was suddenly pounding. What did Cole mean by that? You could remember, but you don’t?

Cole, meanwhile, was looking over at the ex-Templar, who was chatting with a merchant and looking quite normal. “He needed peace,” Cole said. “He needed to forget. He is happier now.”

Toby whined and leaned against Cole’s leg, and Cole looked down at him with an idle sort of interest. “You help, too,” he said to Toby. “A bark of joy brings a smile out of sadness. You’re good.”

Toby tilted his head in confusion, and Varric scowled at Solas. “Listen to him,” he said reprovingly. “Listen to how he’s talking now. Do you know what he sounds like?”

Solas nodded once. “He sounds like a spirit,” he said simply.

Cole blinked at Varric. “Nonsense words, like Bartrand at the end. ‘Just need to hear the song again. Just for a minute.’ I’m all right, Varric.” He started drifting away toward the mouth of the village. 

Fenris and Hawke watched his ambling steps in nonplussed silence. Varric sighed and bowed his head. “He could have been a person,” he said softly. 

Solas folded his hands behind his back. “Possibly. Would that have made him happier, Child of the Stone?”

Varric shot him a dirty look, then walked away in Cole’s wake. Hawke folded her arms and frowned at Solas. “Solas, you know I adore you, but you can be such an ass.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

She shook her head, then turned away and ran after Varric and Cole. Fenris frowned at Solas for a moment, then they began walking toward the village entrance with Toby trotting obediently at Fenris’s side.

After a moment of silence, Fenris spoke. “You are smug,” he said.

Solas pursed his lips and didn’t speak, and Fenris gave him a hard look. “Do not make me regret choosing your solution. Arrogance doesn’t suit you.”

 Solas narrowed his eyes. “You would chastise me for possessing knowledge, then? Am I to be dressed down for knowing more than Varric about these matters?”

“No,” Fenris said quietly. “I would chastise you for flaunting that knowledge to bring shame to another. It is unbecoming.” 

Solas clenched his jaw, then returned his gaze to the path. They walked in a tense silence for a moment before Fenris spoke again. “The amulet is working properly, I assume?”

“Yes,” Solas said, rather stiffly. “Cole will be adequately protected.”

“Good,” Fenris said. They said nothing more until they’d caught up with Hawke, Varric, and Cole. 

Toby trotted over to Cole and licked his hand, and Cole gazed curiously at the mabari until Hawke joined them. 

“Look,” she said, and she scratched behind Toby’s ears. “Just pet him, Cole. You can pet him like you did before.”

Cole watched her for a moment, then reached out and scratched Toby’s head as well. “It makes him happy,” he said. 

She smiled. “Yes, it does.” 

Cole smiled vacantly. Solas moved forward to join them, and Fenris fell back to join Varric. 

They were largely silent as they made their way to the thaig entrance that Bianca had discovered, and Fenris listened idly as Solas and Hawke spoke to Cole. Solas began his usual cryptic conversations with Cole, and Hawke interjected with her usual irreverent remarks, and it wasn’t long before she was strolling between Cole and Solas, her arms linked companionably with theirs while Toby pranced around them. 

Fenris jerked his chin at her. “Look. Hawke is rectifying the situation,” he said to Varric. “Perhaps Cole won’t be too strange, after all.”

Varric gave him a wry smile but didn’t speak. Fenris raised one eyebrow. “Would you really have wanted him to become human?” he said dryly. “One could argue that there are already too many of them.” 

“I heard that,” Hawke called over her shoulder. “And you know what, that’s fair. We humans are pretty terrible. Cole is probably better off as a spirit.” She hugged Cole’s arm.

Varric chuckled, and Hawke winked at him and Fenris before turning around. When her attention was back on Solas and Cole, Varric sighed very quietly and tugged his earring.

He glanced up at Fenris, then smiled faintly and patted Fenris’s elbow. “Come on, elf, don’t worry about it. Let’s just go clean up these red lyrium miners and their mess, huh?”

His tone was as pleasant as usual. Fenris nodded, and they continued along the road to the thaig entrance in a more comfortable silence than before. But as they walked along in Hawke’s cheerful wake, Fenris pondered the similarities between Hawke and Varric – similarities that weren’t just restricted to their mutual love of wisecracks and literature.

He only hoped that this errand with Bianca would go smoothly. 

********************

Unfortunately, once they finally met with Bianca, things didn't go quite as smoothly as Fenris hoped. 

Granted, they achieved their goal for coming to the entrance to the thaig: they eliminated the dwarven mob that was mining the red lyrium, and they closed a darkspawn tunnel along the way. But when Bianca unlocked a secret chamber that led deeper into the thaig itself, Fenris began to get suspicious. When she hurried straight over to a tome-and-paper-covered desk at the back of the chamber, his suspicions deepened even further. 

“There you are!” she exclaimed. She picked up a key from the desk, then hurried over to a reinforced steel gate at the corner of the chamber and locked it. “They won’t be able to use this entrance again.”

Varric sighed heavily. “Bianca…” 

Fenris narrowed his eyes at her. “You were the leak. You revealed the location of this thaig to Corypheus?”

“Wait. Seriously?” Hawke said incredulously. “You’re an agent of Corytits?”

“What? No! It’s not like that,” Bianca protested. “When Varric told me the thaig location, I went and had a look for myself. And I found the red lyrium, and I… studied it.” She winced. 

“You…” Varric rubbed his face, then glared at her. “You know what it does to people!” 

“I was doing you a favour!” she retorted. “You want to help your brother, don’t you?”

Fenris raised his eyebrows at her bluntness, and Hawke’s mouth popped open in surprise. “Easy, tiger,” she warned.

Bianca pressed her lips together, then sighed. “I just... wanted to help. I wanted to figure it out.” She dropped her gaze to her hands. 

Varric, meanwhile, was still glaring at her. “That stuff can kill you, or worse,” he said angrily. “I told you what happened to Meredith. Why would you risk that happening to you?”

She lifted her gaze to his face. “For knowledge!” she said. “You’re not going to beat Corypheus with ignorance. And as it turns out, I found out that red lyrium…” She took a deep breath, and her face was bright with discovery and anxiety in equal measure. “It has the blight, Varric,” she said urgently. “Do you know what that means?”

“What?” he said snarkily. “That two deadly things combine to form something super-awful?”

“Lyrium is alive!” she said. “Or… or something like it. The Blight doesn’t infect minerals, only animals.”

For a split second, Fenris stopped breathing. Lyrium was alive? The hated substance that lay beneath his skin, the substance that Templars drank to cancel magic and that mages used to enhance it: it was… alive?

A shiver of revulsion ran down his spine, and he dropped his gaze to the lines on his palm. Hawke, meanwhile, was exclaiming in surprise. “You’re fucking kidding,” she blurted. “What do you mean, it’s alive? It is like, er… like a golem or something? Like living rocks…?” She trailed off. A moment later, she reached out and took Fenris’s hand.

He numbly looked up at her. Her expression was a picture of sympathy and concern, but Fenris shook his head subtly; if Bianca didn’t already know his tattoos were lyrium, he didn’t want to tell her. 

Hawke squeezed his hand as Bianca answered her poorly-formed question. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “I couldn’t get any further on my own, so I looked for a Grey Warden mage. Blight and magical expertise in one, right?” The corners of her lips quirked wryly. 

Varric was still gazing stonily at her, and she grimaced before going on. “Well, I found this guy who seemed really interested in helping my research, so… I gave him a key.” She lamely waved the key in her hand, then cleared her throat. “His name was Larius.”

Hawke, Fenris, and Varric looked at her sharply. “Larius?” Varric demanded.

Hawke threw her hands up. “He’s still alive? Wha– how the fuck did he get here from the Vimmarks?” she said incredulously. “He looked like he was ready to crumble into a puddle of rot.”

“And he was not a mage when we met him in Corypheus’s prison,” Fenris reminded her urgently. 

“No, you’re right,” she said. She and Fenris stared at each other for a long moment, then she rubbed her forehead. “So… so let me get this straight. We thought we killed Corypheus, but we didn’t. And then Larius shows up as a mage–”

“Clearly possessing the vestiges of Corypheus’s essence, and his magic,” Fenris growled.

Hawke nodded. “–and he tricks Bianca here into giving up the key, and an entire thaig full of red lyrium.”

“It was no trick,” Fenris said. He scowled at Bianca. “You willingly gave him the key. You gave access to red lyrium to a stranger, even though you knew the dangers it posed.” He folded his arms. “Even if that was not malicious, it was careless.”

Hawke pulled a little face, and Bianca planted her hands on her hips. “I told you, I was trying to learn more about it,” she insisted. “Don’t you want to know where it came from? How it works, so we can undo the damage it’s done?”

Fenris scowled at her but didn’t answer. She wasn’t wrong; in fact, she was terribly right, given Fenris’s recent interest in figuring out more about the nature of lyrium and its seemingly contradictory properties. But it didn’t excuse her carelessness.

Bianca’s posture softened at his silence. “I didn’t realize who Larius was until Varric told me you’d found red lyrium at the Temple of Sacred Ashes. I came here, and… well.” She turned to Varric. “Then I went to you,” she said gently. She took a step closer to him. “When you told me what Corypheus was doing with the red lyrium, I had to make this right.”

Varric didn’t reply. Fenris waved an angry hand at the reinforced gate she’d just locked. “You can’t make this right,” he snapped. “Corypheus has the red lyrium. He has been harvesting it from bodies, like some sort of cursed garden. The damage is done.”

“But at least he can’t get it from here anymore,” she insisted. She looked at Varric, and her expression was slightly pleading now. “I know I screwed up, but it’s as right as I can make it.”

“This isn’t one of your machines,” Varric suddenly burst out. He looked extremely angry now. “You can’t just replace a part and make everything right!”

She recoiled slightly, then straightened and glared at him. “No, but I can try, can’t I? Or am I supposed to wallow in my mistakes forever, kicking myself and telling stories of what I should’ve done?”

Fenris raised his eyebrows at her scathing tone, and Hawke’s jaw dropped. “Woah–!”

“Ha!” Varric burst out. “As if I would tell stories about my own mistakes!”

Bianca scoffed and folded her arms. Hawke took a small step closer to Varric and lifted her chin. “Varric doesn’t wallow,” she said. “He’s the best wingman for people who are trying to fix their dumb mistakes. Which is obviously why you called him here,” she added pointedly. 

Bianca shot her a sharp look. “With all due respect, Champion, I think I know Varric a little better than you.” 

Hawke’s recoiled in offense, then took a step toward her. “Listen–”

Fenris grabbed her wrist. “Enough,” he said firmly. The last thing they needed was a pissing contest. He turned to Varric, who looked very downcast. “Do you have anything else to say to her?” He jerked his head at Bianca.

Varric sighed. “No. We’ve done all we can here.” He looked Bianca in the eye. “You’d better get home before someone misses you,” he said softly. 

Bianca’s haughty posture instantly softened. She took a step toward him. “Varric…”

He moved away from her and rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t… don’t worry about it.” He turned away from her and walked out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Hawke turned to Bianca. “How could you say that to him?” she demanded. “Just stab him in the gut with a poisoned dagger while you’re at it, why don’t you?” 

Bianca folded her arms. “He’s your best friend. I get that,” she said. “But if you can’t see how he pushes his problems away instead of dealing with them, you don’t know him as well as you think.”

Fenris shifted his weight uncomfortably, but Hawke swelled with anger. “You made problems for him,” she snapped. “Giving the key to Corypheus – all right, fine, that was a legitimate mistake. But dragging him into this to cover for you was a shitty thing to do.”

Bianca glowered at her. “I wasn’t trying to–” She broke off and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want him to cover for me,” she said more calmly. “I wanted him to see that I… I’m trying to set things right. If I make a mistake, I want to be able to fix it.”

Her chin was lifted stubbornly, but her wistful gaze kept drifting toward the door to the chamber where Varric was standing with the others, and Fenris studied her in a pensive silence. He was well-versed in the terrible limbo of longing for someone impossible, and it was not hard to recognize the same plight in Varric’s erstwhile lover. Fenris, however, was lucky; he had eventually tackled the barricade of his own resistance to be with Hawke. 

But Varric and Bianca were not nearly as fortunate as he and Hawke. And Fenris suspected that the mistakes Bianca longed to fix the most were ones that had haunted her and Varric for over a decade.

Oblivious to his thoughts, Hawke scoffed. “So what? You’re trying to fix your mistakes, so that gives you the right to hit him where it hurts?”

Bianca narrowed her eyes. “You’re protective of him. But so am I,” she said fiercely. “And it doesn’t do him any good to let him hide behind his stories instead of facing all the things that have happened to him.” She gave Hawke an arch look. “If you really cared about him, you wouldn’t let him keep burying everything in his writing.”

Hawke let out a little laugh, and Fenris could clearly hear the snarl in it. Before she could say anything more, he took hold of her arm. “We should return to the others,” he said quietly.

She met his eye, then took a deep calming breath. “Fine,” she said. “You’re right, let’s get out of here. A darkspawn-ridden cave is not exactly my idea of a party.” She laughed again, more genuinely this time, then turned and made her way toward the chamber exit without looking at Bianca. 

Fenris nodded to Bianca. “It was interesting meeting you,” he said. 

She nodded in return. “Likewise,” she said. Then she lifted her chin once more. “Get him killed, and I’ll feed you your own eyeballs.”

Despite the tension of the situation, Fenris scoffed at the colourful threat. It was a good thing Hawke wasn’t here to hear it, or she would jump on Bianca in a heartbeat. 

“Noted,” Fenris said, and he turned away from her to rejoin the rest of his companions.

Varric smiled wanly at him as he exited Bianca’s chamber. “All right, elf, we ready to head back to the surface? I might wither if I don’t get a little sunshine soon.” 

Fenris smirked and began to lead the way along the narrow stone bridge to the stairs. “Unfortunate that it’s late evening, then,” he said. “We’ll be lucky to catch a sliver of daylight when we emerge from here.”

Hawke tutted and looked around at the enormous cavern. “I suppose it is evening already out there, isn’t it? Damn.”

“That’s all right,” Varric said affably. “A sliver of sunlight is better than nothing.” 

Fenris glanced at him. “You may not see any of it, given how short you are,” he said slyly.

Just as he’d hoped, Varric chuckled. “I’ll climb on your shoulders, then,” he said. “That should get me enough height to see the sun. If I crush you in the process, even better.”

Hawke laughed, and Fenris chuckled. They continued to make lighthearted chit-chat as they returned to the thaig’s entrance, and by the time they emerged beneath the waterfall that fed the Upper Lake, Fenris was pleased that Varric was smiling again. 

They made their way around the lake and down to the camp at the base of the hill, and Fenris murmured a greeting to the Inquisition guards that were manning the camp. A few minutes later, they were settled around a campfire heating some water for tea while Varric pulled rations out of his pack and passed them around. 

Hawke passed a packet of dried fruit to Cole. When Cole passed the fruit straight on to Solas, Varric shook his head sadly. “He used to sniff it,” he told Hawke and Fenris quietly. “I swear he was wondering what it tasted like. And now…” He sighed.

Another pang of guilt twisted in Fenris’s belly. He and Hawke exchanged a look, and Hawke shuffled closer to Varric. “D’you want to talk about it?” she said gently.

Varric shrugged. “Nah. He’s back to being a spirit now. There’s not really much to say.”

Hawke bumped him with her shoulder. “That’s not really what I meant.” 

“Yeah… I know.” He tugged his earlobe, and they fell silent for a moment as they started to eat. 

Varric munched slowly on a slice of dried apple, then swallowed and shook his head again. “I’m glad to have answers, but… shit. The second she showed up at Skyhold, I knew. I just…” He pursed his lips and stared at the fire for a moment. “I let this mess happen. I gave her the location of the thaig, and…” He sighed. “I’m not good at dealing with shit like this.”

“What do you mean?” Hawke said. 

He gave her a frank look. “Come on, Hawke. We all know that if Cassandra hadn’t dragged me here, I’d be in Kirkwall right now pretending none of this was happening.” 

She tutted. “Varric, do you really think any of us would be here if we didn’t have to be? Fenris and I wouldn’t have come if–” She broke off and winced, and Fenris awkwardly scratched his neck as the unspoken end of her sentence hung between them: she and Fenris wouldn’t have come to the Temple of Sacred Ashes if she hadn’t thought Varric was in trouble.

Varric gazed at her hopelessly. “There’s that too. Andraste’s ass, I really didn’t want you guys to get pulled into this. But here you are, and I just… I let it happen.”

“Varric, that’s… that’s not your fault. That’s my fault,” Hawke said. She shifted closer to him on the roughly-hewn wooden bench. “Fenris and I are here because of me. Fenris has this fucking magic mark on his hand because of me, not you.”

Fenris ran a hand through his hair. This was exactly what he’d feared – that this conversation would devolve into a downward spiral of Varric and Hawke blaming themselves for everything bad that had happened since the entire debacle with Corypheus had begun.

He took her hand. “Hawke–”

Varric interrupted him. “If I hadn’t sent you that letter, you guys would still be safe.”

 Hawke gazed at him desperately. “But… Varric, you sent that letter to try and keep us safe!”

 “Yeah, and look how well that worked out,” Varric retorted. “Just about as well as anything else I’ve tried to do.” He sighed, then smiled wanly at Toby, who was resting his chin Varric’s thigh.

Fenris frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

Varric was quiet for a while as he scratched Toby’s neck. “You know what I love about writing fiction?” he finally said. “Things happen the way they’re supposed to. You plot the story, and you plan what people say and do. And that’s what happens.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Well, sometimes the characters have a mind of their own. But things mostly stay on track.” He smiled at Hawke and Fenris. “There’s nothing more relaxing than writing the perfect death scene exactly the way you imagined it happening.”

His tone was flippant, but Fenris couldn’t help but think back to Bianca’s words: how she’d accused Varric of writing stories about things he should have done. Her phrasing may have been overly abrasive, but the way Varric was describing his writing was consistent with what Bianca had said. 

It seemed that Varric really did use his writing to gain a sense of agency when his life seemed to be spinning out of his grasp.

Fenris rested his elbows on his knees. “If only real life was that easy to control,” he said.

“Yeah,” Varric said quietly. He cleared his throat, then glanced across the fire at Solas and Cole, who were deep in a quiet discussion. “I think we’re way too sober to be having this conversation.”

“I can help with that,” Hawke said. She unclipped her flask of brandy from her belt.

Varric chuckled as she handed him the flask. “I can always count on you, Hawke.” He took a gulp and handed the flask back to her, and she took a sip in turn before offering it to Fenris.

Fenris took the flask with a nod, then tapped his fingers idly on the flask for a moment as he pondered Varric’s words. The feeling of lacking control, and using his writing to regain it… and then there was that comment Varric had made earlier today, about feeling like a bystander in his own life.

Fenris drank from the flask, then grimaced at the burn of liquor before offering it to Varric again. “You think your actions are inconsequential because they don’t end the way you had hoped,” he said to Varric. “You would equate unwanted outcomes with not having done anything at all?”

Varric raised his eyebrows. “Yeah,” he said. “Shit, Fenris. That’s… really accurate, actually.” He eyed Fenris in an impressed sort of way, then shrugged and smirked. “And I mean, if nothing goes the way I plan, might as well just sit back and watch the show, right?”

Fenris eyed him thoughtfully. “You are no mere spectator, Varric. Perhaps the writing is… a trial run. A way to try and anticipate the possibilities when you eventually act.”

Varric listened carefully while Fenris spoke, but when Fenris fell silent, he smiled and shrugged. “I don’t know about that,” he said. “Nothing wrong with a fantasy just being a fantasy, is there?” 

His tone was flippant and dismissive, and so very reminiscent of Hawke. Hawke, meanwhile, was looking sadder by the moment. 

She hugged Varric’s arm again. “Varric…”

He waved the flask dismissively. “Ah, don’t worry about it. Being an observer’s not so bad.” He took a sip from the flask, then smiled at her. “At least this way I get to watch you idiots and document everything you do instead.”

She gave him a tremulous smile. “Well, I’m full of idiotic ideas, so you’ll have a never-ending inventory of foolishness to write about.”

Fenris frowned at this, but Varric chuckled and patted her leg. A moment later, Hawke enfolded Varric in a tight hug. 

Varric wrapped one arm around her waist in turn, and they were all silent for a moment. Then Fenris broke the silence. “And what of Bianca? Will you see her again?”

Varric pulled away from Hawke’s embrace and shrugged. “I always do.”

His words were casual and neutral, and Fenris simply nodded. Hawke, on the other hand, straightened and stared at Varric in surprise. 

“Wha–  really?” she blurted. “You’re still going to talk to her after–”

“Hawke,” Fenris said warningly. 

She winced. “I know, I know, I’m being a bitch. It’s just…” She gazed plaintively at Varric. “She was so mean to you.”

Varric shook his head. “You don’t know her, Hawke. It’s not…” He hesitated, then shrugged. “She means well. Even if it stings.”

Fenris studied him sympathetically. He could still remember the heavy ache of longing and regret he carried for the four-odd years after he and Hawke’s ill-fated first night together, and it wasn’t a pain he would qualify as a mere sting.

Hawke twisted her lips and toyed with her wedding ring. “Didn’t you ever want to… you know… move on?”

Varric raises an eyebrow. “Like how you moved on from the broody one here, you mean?” he said pointedly. 

Fenris shifted uncomfortably on the bench, and Hawke sighed. “All right, fine, fair enough.” She twisted her rings nervously for another moment, then cast Varric a cautious look. “But… Varric, she’s married. What are you, um. I mean, are you hoping…?”

She trailed off, and Varric sighed and didn’t reply. A long, awkward silence ensued as they passed Hawke’s flask among themselves again. 

Varric took a long swig of brandy and glanced at her. “You and Fenris are lucky, you know. Your whole thing is a pretty big plot twist.” He waved vaguely at her and Fenris. “You’re the only time I’ve seen a tragedy turn into a happy ending.”

“But I want you to be happy, too!” Hawke said plaintively. “It’s not fair. You deserve to be happy with someone too.” She clutched his arm. “Listen, there’s room for a third person in our relationship. And Fenris and I have a really big bed–”

“No,” Fenris said loudly, and Hawke and Varric burst out laughing.

Varric patted her hand. “Thanks for the offer, Hawke, but no thanks,” he chortled. “Besides, I’m not Fenris’s type.” He smirked at Fenris.

Fenris chuckled at the long-standing joke. “No, you aren’t.”

Hawke turned to Fenris with a smile. “Oh no? And what is your type, pray tell?”

“Dark-haired mages named Rynne Hawke, of course,” he said smoothly.

Hawke laughed brightly, and Varric groaned and rolled his eyes. “Oh, here we go,” he complained.

Hawke kissed Fenris noisily on the cheek. “You smooth talker,” she said happily, then she turned to Varric. “And you, my most clever friend.” She kissed him on the cheek as well, then beamed at both of them in turn. “You know, it’s awful that this Coryfish bullshit is what brought us together, but I for one–”

“Ah,” Fenris drawled. “And the gushing begins.”

“Hide the liquor before she really gets going,” Varric advised him. 

Hawke laughed. “No! I mean it! Down with Corytits, but three cheers for the three of us being in the same fucking place again.” She rested her head companionably on Varric’s shoulder. “I love you, Varric. Just in case there was any doubt.”

He tsked and rubbed his nose. “Love you too, Hawke,” he muttered. He patted her leg and turned away toward his travel pack. “Now come on, let’s play some cards.” 

Hawke smiled at him as he rifled around haphazardly in his bag, then turned to Fenris. “Don’t worry,” she murmured. “I love you, too.”

He smiled at her and gently pinched her waist. “I know,” he said softly. “I love you, as well.” 

She smiled and tipped her chin up, and Fenris laid a gentle kiss on her raspberry-red lips. Then Varric turned around with a deck of cards in hand. “Hey, Chuckles,” he called across the fire. “You in for a game of diamondback?”

Solas looked up in surprise. “I… yes, I would enjoy that,” he said politely. “Thank you.” 

Hawke clapped her hands. “Yes!” she chirped. “And we can teach Cole how to play.”

“Why?” Cole asked. 

“Because it’s fun, you goof,” she said cheerfully. She popped off of the bench and sat on the ground, then patted the grass beside her. 

Solas and Cole moved around the fire to join them, and Hawke smiled as Cole seated himself cross-legged beside her. “Now here’s the idea,” she said. “We each start with five cards…”

Toby flopped down beside Cole and wagged his tail, and Solas seated himself gracefully on the grass. Varric started shuffling the cards. “Want a drink?” he said to Solas. 

Solas shook his head. “Thank you, but no. I prefer to remain sharp for the purpose of this game.”

Varric nodded. “Good strategy. You can’t fleece me the way you did Blackwall.”

Solas shot him a tiny smile. “A sharper mind for a sharper opponent.” 

Varric chuckled. “Nice try. Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” He continued to shuffle the cards, then glanced at Fenris.

Fenris offered him the flask. “Another drink for yourself?”

“Sure,” Varric said. He paused his shuffling to take the flask, but instead of drinking right away, he gazed at Fenris. 

“Thanks, elf,” he said softly. 

Fenris nodded. “Whatever you need, my friend.” 

They smiled at each other for a moment longer. Varric took a swig from the flask before handing it back to Fenris, and without further ado, he began to deal the cards out with an expert speed.

Fenris watched contentedly as the cards landed in front of each player in a tidy pile. This journey had raised even more frightening uncertainties in his life: there was Cole’s unnerving comment about Fenris’s lost (or not-so-lost?) memories, and this new and extremely unpleasant discovery that lyrium was alive.

Even so, Fenris could count himself fortunate for the certainties he did have. No matter what new and terrible trials were thrown in his way, he had Hawke by his side, with her brilliant smile and her brilliant laugh to brighten the darkness of his path. 

And also by his side, whether literally or by letter, he had Varric.

[varricmancer]

Lost And Found | 2

Pairing: Varric Tethras x OC

Word Count: 3,924

Summary: Instead of the nothingness she had craved, Crystal woke up in the world of Thedas. What had once been merely a story that she loved now seemed very real and she was right in the heart of it all. She soon finds a reason to live again and a love in the arms of someone as quietly broken as her.

Notes: Hey, look! It’s an update! Finding the time to write with an infant around is extremely difficult, but I didn’t want to abandon this story. I have so much of it thought up already in my head and it’s great, it’s just hard getting around to writing it all down lol. Most of my free time these days is spending trying to sneak in naps and showers when my baby is asleep. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this and please let me know how you think it’s going. 

Crystal had been completely lost in her work when a sudden cheer made her jump a little, spilling a bit of green sap across her hand. She was able to save most of the vial, thankfully, corking it and setting it aside before opening her door and peering out.

In the middle of the village was a small crowd of people cheering around a rather disgusting pile of dead rams. She did a quick count; ten, just like in the game. If the village did a good job smoking and curing some of the meat, they’d be able to have plenty to go around for a couple weeks at least. Coupled with the knowledge that The Herald would be clearing the area of danger soon, Crystal was able to take a deep breath, content now that she knew the village would be safe soon. The feeling of constant hunger was something she was never going to forget, and she really hoped to never feel it again.

She stepped outside, quietly shutting her door behind her and strolled towards the back of the crowd. She just wanted to get a peek of everyone before the judgemental stares and demands for her to prove she’s not a demon started.

The Herald turned out to be a human male, and he looked like the default version, meaning this was most likely Maxwell Trevelyan. She spots the dual daggers on his back and grins. He’s a human rogue Inquisitor, probably her most used playthrough. He was smiling gracefully as various people loudly proclaimed their thanks, but she could see the tension in his body, like he was holding himself back from making a run for it.

Cassandra was beautiful. The game certainly did not do her justice in the least. Her face was much more delicate and regal in real life; not even her scars distracted from it. Giles was chatting her up, and Crystal knew he could be a little longwinded at times. Cassandra’s lack of patience with him showed. She could practically see the Disgusted Noise subtitle above her head.

Solas was magnificent in his own way, of course. She hadn’t been sure how she’d feel about meeting him - knowing what she did about him - but there was no overwhelming urge to run for the hills. He was taller and more broad than any of the other Elven people she’d met here, but it was hidden well under the humble clothing he wore. She imagined she only noticed his difference from the others because she knew to look for it. She just hoped she could get him to fix her up before she freaked him out by accidentally letting him know that she was aware of his incredibly stupid plan.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t see through the crowd enough to catch sight of Varric, and no one seemed to be able to hear her whispered excuse me over the excited chatter. She sighed to herself, resigned that she’d have to wait until the crowd calmed down before she’d be able to beg for Solas to heal her. If she knew Giles or Mother Giselle, they’d probably bring the group to her soon enough, for different reasons of course. She snuck one last glance through the crowd and braced to leave when she felt someone stand next to her. 

“It’s always us short ones that get stuck in the back, huh?” 

Crystal bit back her excited grin as recognized the owner of that raspy voice, trying to appear calm and not totally embarrass herself by fangirling. She turned and was surprised to note that she and Varric were nearly eye to eye. He was just a touch shorter than her five feet. However, his dwarven bulk made him seem massive next to her. Just one of his biceps was probably half of her body weight. The only things that saved her from looking like a complete stick next to him were her generous top and bottom. 

She was also surprised how much more handsome he was in real life than in the game. There were slight grey streaks in his dark blonde hair and deep laugh lines around his eyes, showing his age, but he carried it well. His grin was warm, and even if his eyes were obviously cataloging everything about her and trying to figure her out, he gave off a kind air. She smiled shyly back, a blush growing on her cheeks as he continued to study her. She inhaled sharply as she recognized the interest in his eyes and felt an answering flutter in her chest, surprising herself.  

In all of her imaginings over the past few weeks about who she’d feel butterflies around when she met them, never had Varric even occurred to her. Sure, he was one of her favorite characters, but she’d figured she’d take one look at Cullen or Hawke and swoon. Instead, here she was blushing over freaking Varric Tethras, a smooth-talking and romantically unavailable rogue. 

In other words, just her type. You’d think now that she was living a whole new life in a whole new world she’d stop making life so hard for herself. At least this time she had the advantage of knowing he’d break her heart before she answered that spark of interest with one of her own. 

“Varric, there you are. They’ve invited us to eat with them before we leave. Come help me drink that bottle we found earlier...or stay and talk to the pretty little lady. Hello there. I’m Maxwell.” 

The Herald himself was standing in front of Crystal, her blush deepening as his eyes flittered back and forth between her and Varric. He looked her over curiously. 

“I must say, you are the most petite dwarf I’ve ever seen. Are you perhaps Elven blooded?” 

She snorted and grinned. “I’m not a dwarf. Just a very tiny human, I’m afraid,” she answered softly, smiled widening as Maxwell’s cheeks soon sported a blush of his own as he sputtered an apology. 

“Believe it or not, he does this often,” Varric chuckled. 

“It’s true, sadly,” Maxwell sighed wearily. “The first time I met a female Qunari was a disaster. I was just trying to be a gracious host and I asked her if she had her own attendants for her milking or if she needed us to assign some to her.” 

Crystal’s eyebrows rose in shock, a hand trying to contain her laughter. “You didn’t!” 

“I did. My Uncle always told me that the Qunari were related to druffalo, and since I’d never met any I didn’t know he was just being a racist ass. I was only saved from having to fight her because of our ambassador’s skill with words and the fancy new axe I got her.” 

She giggled and waved away any concern. “I promise I don’t require duels or weapons. It’s not the first time my height has been commented on.” 

“You’re the very soul of graciousness, Mistress...I didn’t catch your name.” Maxwell declared with an elaborate bow.

“Crystal,” she answered warily, knowing what was coming. 

“OH! You’re the girl they told us about! You were in the fade like me!” 

“So they tell me.” 

“You don’t remember either?” 

She shrugs, “Not really. I was...in a lake when I was surrounded by a green glow and it pulled me down. The next thing I recall was waking up and being told my arm broke falling out of a rift.” 

“You didn’t get a mark like mine?” 

“No, I’m afraid not.” 

Crystal chewed her lip thoughtfully before squaring her shoulders and blurting out, “I do have...knowledge, however. Um, like bits of insight into future events.” 

“Like a seer?” 

“Not quite. I can’t read minds or tell you what you’ll be doing thirty years from now, but I have some knowledge of past events and some coming events that will impact the inquisition.” 

“That’s incredible. You learned it in the fade?” 

“Uh...I suppose that’s possible. Look, I wasn’t sure that I was going to tell you about it at first, because this whole thing is terrifying. I know if I go with you and help with my knowledge, I’ll be right in the thick of everything, but I know I’ll be safer with you than out here in the wilderness on my own. If you can take me with you to Haven and promise protection then I’ll use what I know to help you succeed.” 

Maxwell nods and rubs his chin in thought, studying her.

“Not to be rude, but how do I know you have any of this foresight and are not simply trying to infiltrate the inquisition?” 

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t believe me either. Do you have a map of the area and maybe something to write with?” 

Maxwell nods and pulls out a weathered map on what she can only assume is some sort of animal skin. She wrinkles her nose and accepts it and the black chunk he hands her that she guesses she’s supposed to write with. She wasn’t very knowledgable about such things, but as long as it worked who cared. 

She lays the map out on a nearby stump, mumbling to herself as she tries to remember all the major points in the area. Unfortunately, there was quite a lot because The Hinterlands was huge, and she was sure there were at least a couple of things she forgot. She handed Maxwell the map with a sheepish grin and a shrug of her shoulders. 

“Alright. I’ve marked all the big events in the Hinterlands for now. First is the easy stuff. When you get to the horsemaster, you’ll learn that wolves have been attacking villagers. I’ve marked the spot on the map where there is a demon controlling them. Take out the demon and the wolves will go back to normal. Avoid the rift to the right of the river. The demons are too high level for you to deal with and they stay in that little corner anyway. You can get back to them later. Also, someone will ask you to find their missing druffalo. Up to you if you want to do that, but it is a good way to get on the people’s good side.” She shrugged but was pleased by the Herald’s expression. They may not believe her, but at least he was listening intently. 

“I’ve also marked the locations of the templar and mage encampments. Taking those out will stop the fighting so the people here will be safer. You’ll come across lots of mini quests along the way, and I’ve marked those as well. It’s up to you how much you want to accomplish now, although I suggest just dealing with the horses and encampments for now. You can always come back.” 

“That’s quite a lot of information, but nothing that someone with good intel and knowledge of the area couldn’t come up with,” Varric says with a tilt to his head, studying her curiously. 

“True. At the very least, I’m hoping this shows that I can be of some use. This alone probably just saved you weeks of drudging around. There’s nothing huge that I need to forewarn you of at the moment.” 

Maxwell frowns. “Why can’t you just write down what you know? We’d pay you for your services and you’d be free to stay here where it seems you have a home?” 

“Several reasons. One, this isn’t my home. Giles has been kind, but I am alone in the middle of the wilderness of a land that I don’t really know, sleeping in a house that is only available because the entire family died. I’d feel safer surrounded by people that my knowledge makes me familiar with. Two, I don’t really think just telling you everything right off would help. I...okay, so when you go into battle you fight as hard as you can because you want to win and protect your companions, correct?” 

Maxwell nodded, eyes trained on her as she explained. 

“Right. Well, would you fight as hard if you knew the outcome beforehand? Or would you go into battle thinking you had this in the bag and there was no point in giving your all?” 

“Potentially changing the outcome and losing or someone dying that shouldn’t have,” Varric rumbled thoughtfully next to her. Leave it to the writer to catch on. 

“Exactly. Everything I’ve read that mentioned having knowledge of the future follows the rule of not telling everyone everything about it so the future doesn’t get changed, and it’s cliche as hell, but it’s a cliche for a reason. I’ll happily tell you what I think would be safe to tell without changing anything, but there are a lot of things that actually depend on choices that you or others make. The fact that I’m even here already changes tons because I’m not supposed to be.” 

“What does that mean?” Maxwell asks with a raised brow. 

“Uh...it means that I already saw the next five years happen but I wasn’t a part of it until that rift threw me into the middle of a land I don’t belong in. That’s already changed a hell of a lot and I don’t know what kind of impact that’s going to have. Everything I know is a series of probabilities that can change based on choices. So while I may hope for one outcome and can try to counsel you to choose it, ultimately you can decide to do something totally different and change the future that I know.” 

“This is all giving me a headache,” Maxwell mumbles, rubbing his forehead. 

Crystal snorts.“Tell me about it.” 

“Basically,” she continues, “I’m one of the good guys and I’ll try to help as much as I can in return for protection. I’m not a fighter, nor do I have magic, so I’m alone and have no real way of keeping safe by myself here. Sounds pathetic, but...” she shrugs, trailing off to observe their faces. Maxwell and Varric both had their eyebrows raised as they silently conversed with a series of nods and expressions. She wouldn’t have thought they’d had enough time to bond enough to pull off that kind of thing, but they seemed to understand each other. 

“Alright, I can’t promise anything right this very moment,” Maxwell states as he crosses his arms. “You are of course welcome to come to Haven. We have all kinds of people just showing up there daily, so that’s not a problem. I believe the Mother is going there herself in a few days, so you could probably travel with her party if you wanted. We were heading over to the horsemaster’s tomorrow, and we’ll take all you’ve told us and the map markers into consideration during our journey. We should be able to get back to the Crossroads in about a week. If you’re still here and your information proved helpful, we’ll discuss taking you with us and talking to the other leaders. How does that sound?” 

Her shoulders drop as she sighs in relief. “Perfectly fair. I’ll probably stay until you guys get back. I don’t relish the thought of traveling with wagons full of sisters and Mother Giselle. They are best dealt with in small doses.” Varric snorts and the two of them share a small smirk. 

“We need you to meet the others in our party, so they know where the info came from. That’s okay, right?” Maxwell asks, already halfway to leaving.  

“As long as you are able to stop Cassandra from coming after me thinking I’m a demon or something.” 

Maxwell groans dramatically. “Ugh. I have experienced that Cassandra and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. No head lopping today.” 

He turns back to the party that had remained behind, yelling loud enough to be heard over the noise of everyone still celebrating. 

“Cassandra, Solas. Could you come here please?” 

They came forward, followed by Giles who had apparently noticed they were headed towards her and decided to take up his role of protector once more. 

He nods politely at Maxwell. “Ah, you found our Crystal. They bullying you, girl?” 

She grins softly, “No, Giles. I’m fine. Thank you.” 

“You’re the one they say came out of a rift as well?” 

Having Solas’s attention on her was terrifying, mostly because of what she knew of him but also a bit because she wasn’t sure what all he could see. 

“I am. Sorry, no mark,” she shrugs, noting his gaze wandering from her hands to any other visible bit of skin. 

“Crystal here has been very helpful and provided us with some information to help with our travels here, and we’ll be taking her to Haven with us when we get back,” Maxwell informs them, patting her shoulder. 

Cassandra studies her with a frown. “Are you certain that is wise? She could be a spy or even possessed.”

“We had plenty of people look her over, and she is just human. I’m afraid we didn’t even think about the possibility of her bein’ a spy. Doubt it though. She’s a good girl,” Giles adds helpfully.

“I’m not, but I’m sure Leliana will be able to figure that out.” 

Cassandra’s gaze sharpened as she stared at Crystal. “How do you know Leliana?” 

“Err, she says she knows things. Like a seer.” Maxwell explains, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“Not like a seer. I’m not magic or whatever. I just...know things.” 

“Did you perhaps converse with anyone whilst you were in the fade?” Solas asks.  

“I don’t remember ever being in the fade. I just remember a green glow then I was here.” 

“Interesting,” Solas nods, his eyes piercing her as though she was a puzzle to solve. Crystal shifted nervously, not enjoying having the undivided attention of Solas on her. At any moment he could decide she was a threat to his plans. 

Giles must have interpreted her slight grimace to be one of pain because he suddenly pointed to Solas. 

“Oy, you with the stick. You can heal?” 

“Yes? I have some healing ability.” 

“Good. Do yer sparkle hands on our wee lass here. She’s been working hard with only one working arm long enough. Oh, and do ye still need help with the ribs too?” 

“Um, they are not as bad anymore. Although I would be very grateful for help with my arm. I...cannot pay you. I have nothing unless you’ll accept some healing potions I’ve made.” 

“Those will be appreciated.” 

“Here, sit lass. Is this going to hurt her?” 

“Not too much. The spell dulls the pain as it works.” 

Giles leads her to a stone step and stands at her side. She shakily begins to try taking off her sling but is surprised when Varric gently pries her hand away and begins untangling the knot himself. She smiles her thanks and relaxes a little as he works. He grimaces at the fading bruising around the wrist once he removes all the wrapping, then hisses in sympathy when she squeaks in pain as he helps to hold her shaking arm out for Solas to work on. 

Solas mutters some words and suddenly a green glow surrounds her arm, the bones rippling under her skin in a way that was both disturbing and fascinating. 

“That’s so weird,” she mumbles. It was like one of those horror movie scenes where someone had bugs or worms moving around under their skin. 

“There. It’s completely healed, but it will still be tender for a few days as you get used to using that arm again.” Solas states as the glow disappears and he backs away. 

Crystal flexes her fingers a few times, amazed that while her arm still felt weak and twinged with pain a little bit, she was still able to freely move it. 

“Thank you, Solas. I appreciate it,” She grinned. Potentially nutball of a God or not, he’d saved her months of recovery time. 

He nodded politely and rejoined his group that had been having their own private conversation while he’d been working, no doubt about her. 

“Does it feel better?” Varric asks, handing her a mug of something. She took a sniff and realized it was some sort of alcohol, but she wasn’t very knowledgeable about the different types out here. Some sort of mead if she had to guess. She shrugs and takes a big gulp, smacking her lips a little as she contemplates the taste. 

“Mmm, yeah. Won’t be able to punch with it for a while, but at least I can stop getting dressed onehanded,” she giggles. 

Varric smirks, “Well if you find that you still need help with that, let me know.” 

“Ah,” she shakes her head playfully, “If only you’d been here to make that offer yesterday. I was so desperate I probably would have taken you up on that.” 

His eyes shined mischievously as he shrugs. “Well, damn my luck.” 

“If you two are done flirting, we need to get going,” Maxwell chuckled as he strode towards them, smirking as Crystal’s blush darkened. 

Varric cleared his throat and stuck his hands into his pockets, stepping away from her a bit. She didn’t really like that, but she understood. 

“I hope you guys stay safe. Remember to take advantage of the spots I marked for setting up camps.” 

Maxwell nodded and grasped her hand, bowing over it slightly. 

“In case your advice proves handy, thank you in advance. We shall see you in a week.” 

Crystal nodded and smiled as he sauntered off to join the rest of his party. Varric takes a few steps before pausing, pulling something out of his pocket and tossing it towards her. She catches it easily in her right hand, light making the object glitter. It was some sort of crystal. She glanced up at him and quirked an eyebrow, wondering he was trying to make some sort of lame pun. 

“Not a joke, I swear,” he chuckles, palms raised. “In case the village gets attacked again while we’re gone, you can call us for help.” 

Oh. It was one of those. She couldn’t remember the name, but she could recall that was how Iron Bull and Dorian communicated in the game. 

“Thank you, Varric. I appreciate it,” She says softly, cradling it to her chest. 

He nods and does a little salute before he joins the others, leaving her to watch them grab their gear and a share of the cooked meat. She tried to convince herself she wasn’t disappointed that he didn’t look back again.  

She sighs and walks towards her hut, shaking her head at her foolishness. She couldn’t believe how easy it was for her to behave like a schoolgirl with a crush around Varric, even when she knew it was a very stupid thing to even think like that. She knew all about Bianca and his unhealthy attachment to her. One stupid girl from another realm or whatever wasn’t going to change anything. 

Besides, she had other things to worry about. Like staying alive.