SO! I started playing DA2 in anticipation for inquisition and I decided to write up some fluff. The first couple of chapters are gonna be pretty word for word with the game then I'm gonna go off book, but it won't change the game, just go more in depth. This is all about hawke/fenris. Sorry not sorry.
If you're new to my fics Id like to warn you. every chapter will be about 1000 words and I'll crank out between 5-10 before I get distracted and don't touch this fic for a long while. So. there ya go. You've been warned.
The Hanged Man was full to the brim and louder than any pub had ever been in Kirkwall. Of course this was not a normal night in the city's dirties lowlife filled bar. Tonight was a special night, because the Champion of Kirkwall was gone on a mission and would not return this night. No one celebrated this fact and actually felt rather vulnerable without her there in case of a sudden war between Templars and mages (which they all knew was coming eventually). No. Everyone celebrated because this was the only time that Varric, the handsome dwarf with a silver tongue, was able to tell the truest and deepest stories that he had collected in their journeys together. Most would assume the words that this dwarf spun together were simple drivel with little base in truth, but the riffraff in the Hanged Man that night knew better. Varric was known as The Champion's best friend throughout this group of people. He was always with her on her travels and even on her night offs in the Lowtown pub. They joked and held similar views and if not for her obvious enthrallment with a certain elf in their party, most would have believed them lovers. Maybe they were in a way—always smiling and flirting, but baselessly and frivolously.
The night had begun rather slowly, with the Dwarf and every one of the Champion's party that wasn't with her at the time, gathered around the large fireplace in the center of the hall. Aveline and her husband sipped quietly on their steins while Merrill sat wide eyed, staring at her friend Varric as he wove stories together as if he was weaving straw into gold. Sebastian scoffed along as he drank another glass of tea in the corner. Isabella laughed at every embellishment that was flung her way. The amount of empty cups in front of her spoke to her drunken state.
All of them had heard these stories before and knew most the truths by now, but still loved to hear the newest and most outlandish addition. The bar staff was rather busy, rushing around to the occupied tables but with every loud laugh or comment from the party their eyes would flitter over to the group and wonder about the story being told then. The patrons of the pub were no different from the staff, if not for their ability to chime in. Varric was a novel in to the life of the Champion and the group surrounding him was growing steadily to the size that he rather preferred.
Varric wasn't the usual dwarf that you would run into in Orzammar or even walking around in Kirkwall. Anyone who listened to him for a minute could realize that. Maybe that was what made his stories so much more. The most story like thing any dwarf was likely to spill out was about their lineage and their connection to the paragons of the past. That, unfortunately to some, was the only story he refused to tell. Varric was of course a surface dwarf, which meant that his family was kicked out from the tunnels that ran bellow every inch of earth in the world. There were rumors that his family was directly descended from a tragic paragon's line but, with no evidence to back it up, the rumor stayed just that—a rumor. Of course, he wasn't unwilling to speak of his bravery and strength in battle, so it's not as if he was the only party member in a secretive place. He was, in fact just finishing up a story where he dealt the killing blow to a high dragon on Sundermount when the bartender yelled out last call. The bar would be closing and those who simply came for the drink, on the Champion's tab of course would filter out soon enough. Then, Varric mused, he would be able to tell a new story to those who were only there for words.
He told no lies in that statement. As the outer fringes of patrons gathered up their last drinks and Isabella told a few dirty jokes, to Sebastian's horror, the bar closed down. The last drink of the night never seems to last long enough and the group surrounding the party lessened severely, only slightly replaced by the wait staff that was itching for Varric's new tale while they poured drink after drink. The bartender tipped his hat to Varric and headed upstairs for the night. He was not specifically amused by Varric's words but was civil nonetheless, being the dwarf's next door neighbor in the suits upstairs. At the bartender's departure, he gave Merrill, whom he called Daisy, the sign to grab a few bottles from the stock under the bar. They would run a tab. The owner would find it in the morning with a generous tip. The world would go on.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Humans and Elves," Varric gestured grandly around him. "Please, for tonight's generous benefactor and inspiration for a large portion of my stories, give the Champion of Kirkwall, Elizabeth Hawke, my friend a round of applause. The crowd clapped but no one more than Varric himself.
"And Please, for tonight's wonderful Hanged Man wait staff and my lovely Daisy, another round of that glorious sound." A few people laughed but those that thoroughly were enjoying themselves clapped whole heartedly and once again, no one more than the beardless dwarf in the center of the crowd.
"Is everyone comfortable?" Varric smiled around at his companions. Nods and smiles were had around as the first bottle found its way back to the front with only a sip or two left in it. Varric grabbed it up and tipped the remaining amber liquid into his gullet before continuing. "This is a new one as you all know, but it's also new in the sense of topic. Lizzie Hawke is of course the main character of our tale, but today will be my first time expressing a Hawke with no embellishments." The small crowd hung onto every word of his as he slowly explained his newest work. "This story isn't about her rise to status, or her expansion into darker magic's. This story is much sweeter and much more painful than any wound she could sustain from her work." He grabbed the next bottle and broke the seal with a satisfying crack before looking up at the crowd with what looked like a smug look. He felt a little proud in fact, as well as mischievous as he poured himself a glass.
"Let us begin with the time right after the quest that I have affectionately named Bait and Switch." He took a swig from his glass and gave a smirk, "for our very first: Tale of the Champion's love."
I hope you liked it. I'm working on ch3 right now but I won't be uploading the second for a little while.