#cassric

The surprised laughter and empty promise the best gifts that could've been found in their prison.

Cassandra found Varric at his usual place by the fire, tucked just slightly away from the roar and bustle of the main hall, but still close enough that he could see and hear most of what was happening -- all the better, she suspected, to write the record of the Inquisition, even if he insisted they weren't that interesting. He was too much of a meddler and a gadfly not to, and surely he couldn't be as bitter as- She shook her head. That was what she was here about, wasn't it? She looked around one more time. Luckily, it was late enough in the evening that the great hall had mostly emptied. Probably for the best, if this ended with her making a fool of herself. She took a deep breath and stepped into Varric's line of sight. "Seeker. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He said, looking up over his glasses from the tome he'd been writing in. He shut it as she came to sit down across from him. She placed the bottle she'd be carrying between them. "Ostwick Red?" Varric whistled, peering at the label, "That's a good year too. Come on, Seeker, even the Inquisition's been having trouble getting the really good stuff, but I didn't think you were the type to gloat at me over a good bottle of wine." "It's a peace offering, Varric," Cassandra growled. Maker, how did this Dwarf know exactly how to push her buttons? "A peace offering? Why Seeker," he grinned cheekily, "I didn't realize we were at war." Cassandra scoffed, then sighed. "You WERE right, you know," She said, "I shouldn't have pried so hard about Bianca." "Sure, but we hashed that out. You told me about your mage, you made a joke about stabbing my books, we had a good laugh. Water under the bridge, right?" Cassandra chuckled in spite of herself. That was the other thing Varric was infuriatingly good at - making her laugh at the most trivial things and at the most inappropriate moments. "Well. Maybe there's another reason. It's hard to..." She started. She stopped, took a deep breath. She wasn't even sure how to say it. She felt heat rising to her cheeks. "Seeker?" "I... I am worried about you, Varric," Cassandra said, somehow spitting it out past a constricted throat. "Seeker," Varric said with a smirk, "You'd better watch out. People will talk!" "Varric, I'm serious. Ever since Hawke left for Weisshaupt, you haven't been the same. You've been... quieter. You do a good job at not letting the Inquisitor see, but it's gotten even worse since Bianca came and went." Varric blinked. "Wow. You're... more observant than I thought, Cassandra." She sniffed, "I am not a Seeker for nothing, Varric. Of course I'd notice." "Yeah, but you're not in the habit of giving the targets of your observations expensive wine, I'd wager." "I am not completely bound to my habits, Varric." "Yeah, but, I dunno, I could see the wine for the Inquisitor, or Vivienne. Me, I'm just that guy who lies to you all the time." "Varric, I'm trying to be nice for once." "Cass, I... I appreciate it, I do, but... it's just a bit of a funk." "A bit of a funk? Varric, I've seen you staring into that fire for hours. You barely noticed when Sera tried to replace your inkwell with a frog yesterday. You've got something on your mind and I just wanted to help." "I won't let it affect my work for the inquisition. You don't have to feel obligated-" "Maybe you're more than an obligation to me, you stupid man!" Cassandra practically yelled. The effect was immediate, the following silence deafening. After a moment, Varric heaved a sigh, removed his glasses, and rubbed his eyes with his closed fists. After that, he buried his face in his hands for a moment. Cassandra fidgeted nervously. She shouldn't have come, she knew, and now all the progress they'd made since Kirkwall was gone and... "How did you do it?" Cassandra almost squeaked in surprise, but collected herself. "Do what?" She said. "Get over him," Varric said, "Your Mage friend. Galyan. I could tell from the way you talked. You loved him, and it didn't work out, and you got on with your life." "You... give me too much credit, Varric," Cassandra murmured, "It's not like I've ever... Well, he was the only one." "But still," Varric said, "If Bianca had died at the Conclave, I wouldn't have been striding along stitching together the last few sorry maker-damned souls standing into a fighting force. I would have been catatonic. But you? You just went ahead and founded the one damn thing that could get Thedas out of this mess in one piece." Cassandra chewed her lower lip for a moment. "If I thought about it," she said, "I couldn't... I just couldn't think about it. I just stopped thinking about everyone I lost and focused on what I had - a writ from the Divine to start the inquisition, and a prisoner to interrogate. Really, if the Inquisitor hadn't been there for me to get mad at, I'm not sure I would have had the strength to keep going." "You musn't tell her that!" She added hastily, looking up at Varric. Maker, if the Herald ever heard about it, she'd never- Varric smiled, "Your secret's safe with me, Cassandra." He didn't break eye contact. He just kept smiling. Cassandra found herself smiling back - and then. Maker, was she blushing? She quickly looked down at the floor. What was Varric doing? That fool, she was only trying to cheer him up. He had no right to- No right to what? Maker, was she seriously blushing over that liar, that golden-tongued thief? But he WAS golden tongued. She didn't just admire his words. She'd first picked up Swords and Shields to research a target, but she kept reading it because it made her feel like she hadn't felt in years... since she and Galyan had first.... Blushing again. Maker, that man! But he was a good man. She'd told the Inquisitor that. She'd promised to reform the Chantry for him. Of course, she meant for people like him, believers who didn't feel comfortable in the Chantry. And yet, she had mentioned him specifically, and... No, it was only a story, and only a thought, no more. Perhaps, even after Kirkwall, they could be friends, but that was all it was. An author she admired. Someone she hoped to make up with and be friendly with one day. That was all. "Hey, Seeker. You still with me?" She came back to herself to find Varric's nose inches from her face as he stared up at her. She yelped and slid back in her chair, "Varric, you startled me!" Varric held up in his hands in surrender, "Sorry, you just went quiet." "Seeker," He said again after a moment, "I'm... going to do something. I want you to promise not to hurt me. Or hate me for it." "Varric," Cassandra said, raising an eyebrow, "What are you up to?" "Nothing horrible, Seeker, I promise! And yet... I feel like you deserve some prior warning." Cassandra knitted her eyebrows, but inwardly, she sighed in relief. Alright, this Varric she could handle. The usual counfounding half-truths and teases, she could handle. She glared at him, "Alright. But it had better not be horrible." Varric leaned in, and kissed her. Deeply. On the mouth. Cassandra squeaked in surprise, but... she couldn't say she disliked it. He tasted... earthy. She closed her eyes and leaned in, and an involuntary moan escaped her lips when Varric pulled back. "I’ve always wanted to do that." Cassandra sputtered, "What, since Kirkwall?" "Of course, Seeker. I mean, that whole interrogation thing, that had to be a Nevarran mating ritual, right?" "You- You're-" She didn't even know where to begin answering that. "I'm a rogue, a scoundrel, and a terrible, terrible man," He said softly, "I know." "You were wrong though," She murmured, face downcast to hide her smile. "I was - what?" "That WAS Horrible." "Well. I'm a little out of practice, I'll admit. But if you really feel that way, I promise I won't try-" "I didn't mean it that way, Varric, I-" "Then-" She looked up at him again, her face turning momentarily sober, "I refuse to be a... rebound... for... whatever Bianca is." Varric frowned, "Cassandra. You're not. I swear. She's married, and it's been decades, and-" "Marriage doesn't stop a lot of people. Especially arranged marriages. I'm not naive, Varric." "Cass. I- Listen. Why don't we take this bottle of wine and find some place a little more private, and we can talk about this. No strings attached. Just me, telling you how serious I am." "Why should I trust you, Varric?" "I'll throw in a preview of the next chapter of Swords and Shields." "That," Cassandra gasped, "That's not fair! That's... That's... a deal." She glowered at Varric for a moment as he lead the way out of the hall. Swords and Shields was playing dirty and he knew it. Still, the glower gave way to a smile, and she touched her chest in wonder as she felt a warmth suffusing it. Perhaps... Perhaps...

...I need fic dammit. Do they have a portmanteau name yet? Cassric? Varrandra?