#munwritespv

They certainly enjoyed each other's presence many times, and fairly often; usually settled in the center of Haven’s safe, freezing walls, sat around the fire Varric often delegated himself to maintaining. 

They’d sit around, and usually Varric would read, and Kaayras would… well, Varric wasn't sure what Kaayras really thought he was doing. 

Varric had imagined, on occasion, that Kaayras was ‘giving Varric a break’ from his self-appointed task of fire keeper, especially when the herald would shift the burning embers with a prod and add wood to the burn. 

Other times, Varric simply figured Kaayras was just lonely, maybe. Or maybe he was just cold, and really liked Varric’s well-kept well-tended fire. Or maybe he just thought Varric wasn't keeping his fire well enough! (Varric chuckled at the thought.)

Other times, Kaayras would be stiffer than usual. He would keep his gaze to the outer walls, and the gates, and Varric would put together a descriptive internal monologue: describing a haunted man, appointing himself guard duty. A weary man, unable to rest, plagued by a looming sense of danger.

It was a lot of that kind of thing, most nights. Long, quiet, but in shared company. The first night, Varric had been neck-deep in writing correspondence back to Kirkwall- including some coded letters to assure Hawke that he was fine and wasn't being held against his will (anymore, anyway.) and that a grand rescue was not necessary. 

Varric had only noticed Kaayras just as the man had knelt to sit, but it had only been a passing glance. He’d been pretty busy, trying to write a code that Daisy would understand and would know to tell Fenris who would know to tell Hawke and that Hawke would believe and not come charging in to be a hero (again). 

Varric had looked up some two hours later, already moved on to an entirely different letter, and there Kaayras had still been: keeping Varric’s fire well tended while he was busy. A soundless thing, simply existing nearby. Varric had looked the man over- clearly not waiting for Varric, not trying to talk to him or anything… and Varric had simply accepted it as that, and gone back to his writing. Kaayras had remained, as well, and… like that they had stayed. 

It had been that one time. And then it had been more than once. Some point along the way, it became more common than not.

Varric didn’t mind the quiet company in the least, and Kaayras seemed to feel of the same notion, if the frequency he showed up was any sign. 

So Varric would read, or write his letters, and Kaayras would do what he does. 

It wasn't uncommon for Kaayras to come around, two portions of whatever rations had been prepared by the camp’s harried cooks in hand, and settle into a seat closer with Varric than he might normally sit in order to hand Varric his own portion. Sometimes, that jostle of food changing hands was the most they’d really say to one another up until exchanging goodnights when one of them went to bed first.

Varric had, of course, appreciated that. It was often when Varric was busy that Kaayras happened to come by with dinner, after all. Sometimes Kaayras would even be there first- fireside lit and tended in the place Varric often would, and he’d nod with a smile when Varric settled in- mindful to sit the same distance away Kaayras often would settle when joining Varric’s company. On nights when Kaayras was tense, that would help, for whatever reason. He just really seemed to like his personal space, which, alright. Varric can respect that, too. Other nights, Varric isn't sure what exactly feels different. But some nights just are, and Varric sits closer. Close enough to pal around and tell extravagant stories.

And as their interaction remained consistent… like reciprocation, it wasn’t particularly unusual for Varric to get to the campfire a bit later than he would usually settle down, and come bearing two sequestered drinks from the sudo-tavern that is The Singing Maiden. 

Kaayras would, very often, be there as the appointed backup fire-caretaker. And Varric had started… using that as a kind of signal, an invitation. Because Varric had come to notice that if he left the firepit unlit as the sun set, Kaayras would be there to light it for him by sundown. It was the best guarantee to have Kaayras there, and worked nearly every time.

Yet, as often as Varric ‘ran a little behind’ to invite the herald’s company and the man consistently responded by showing up, still Kaayras always seemed surprised by Varric’s token offering of drinks.