wordsmith, crack shot, and perfect gentleman

"i’m so proud."

submitted by fictionalized

Varric Tethras

"All in good time, Tiny. Can’t rush perfection. "

"Perfection, right."

"You must remember that time you asked me what it was like to stare up at asses all day. Just think about that. Where my height puts me..."

"Not unless I had to. You’ve never given me a reason to," he said, taking the mug and washing down the truth with a mouthful of mead.

"What would constitute ‘having’ to lie to me?" Bull asked, a bit of concern in his voice as he sat down on the nearest stool to be closer to eye level with Varric. "I’m still waiting on that trick, also."

"All in good time, Tiny. Can't rush perfection. "

"Would you?" He raises one brow before pouring him a large mug and handing it down to him.

"Not unless I had to. You've never given me a reason to," he said, taking the mug and washing down the truth with a mouthful of mead.

        Eurydice let out a noncommittal hum in response. 'Does it matter?'  was what she wanted to ask but it didn’t seem like something Varric would take well. He liked people to be, well, people—Even when she didn’t especially feel like one as often as of late.

"Use your words, sweetheart. Other dwarves may speak in grunts, but I was raised with a little more culture than that."