#pre-adamant

*a conversation had in a quiet corner of Skyhold between two best friends about the possible necessity for a wingman*

Hawke: Will you write her story too?

Varric: Who? What’re you talking about, Hawke?

H: The Inquisitor, of course. You’re sweet on her, Varric. I can tell.

V: How do you figure that?

H: It’s not hard to notice, you know. The whole ‘making calf-eyes at each other during important missions’ thing is a little obvious. Not to mention how you look at her... And the kitchen maids are only too happy to share whispers of your nocturnal activities. Or at least the fact that you hardly spend the night in your own room.

V: Not so loud, please! Andraste’s sacred knickers, you really haven’t learned the art of subtlety.

H: Neither have you, from what I hear. Probably spend your nights pining for her like an idiot. You know she likes you too, right?

V: Hm?

H: Maker, Varric. Haven’t you noticed? She looks at you like you’re made of solid gold. Reminds me of Merrill, actually.

V: I guess so. But that’s just her personality, though. Too nice for her own good.

H: The Inquisitor’s fallen hard, Varric. Take it easy on her.

V: Don’t worry. But I think it’s her who’s gonna have to go easy on me. 

H: And here I thought you didn’t go for the hero types!

V: She’s not a hero. She’s just a normal person caught in the middle of all this shit, like you and me.

H: Then why is she called Inquisitor?

V: Convenient title. Besides, Inquisitor Velahris Lavellan - it has a nice ring to it, eh?

H: That’s her name? And you call her Clover? How’d you get there?

V: Long story. Tell you over drinks later.

H: Hey, V, if you ever need a wingman...