Disclaimer: Not mine.
A/N: Just a little one-shot, originally from a Varric app on a roleplay site. I love Varric and I wanted him to get a little attention.
A young woman sat idly by the lake, pale toes dangling just above the water's surface. In the distance, far beyond the tower that broke the horizon's glow, the sun was setting. It painted the sky in watercolors; pale oranges, yellows, reds all intermingling and dotted with faded gray clouds. One wrist was bent, her hand pressed into the rough-hewed wood of the dock, as she leaned more into one shoulder. Her head tilted to the side, chocolate curls ruffled only slightly by the wind that blew also the corners of the pages in her left hand.
There was a slight smile, pulling her lips upwards to rose-colored cheeks. She seemed to be permanently blushing; this was, perhaps, because of the letter that her gray eyes scanned languidly; perhaps it was a peculiarly biased sunburn. It didn't matter, truly. He loved the color there, whether it was his doing or nature's. He loved, too, the way her eyes shone when she laughed - when he caused her to laugh. She was a thing of ethereal beauty, all pale limbs and dark hair. She was a slight thing; smaller than most humans. It appeared to some that she had never grown from childhood, her limbs and torso shorter than that of most elves. That was not something he thought of, though; not something he worried about. He loved her all the same; tall, short, whatever. She was beautiful. And, moreover, she was his.
"Are you enjoying the story, love?" he asked as he came up quietly behind her, unloading his weapon and his bag to make sitting beside her easier.
"Oh, most definitely," she cooed in response, shifting to lean against him rather than her arm. She adjusted her papers according, moving one to the back so that she might continue reading. "Although, I daresay you are going to get me into trouble."
"And how, might I ask, will you reading my silly little story get you into any trouble?" He lifted his arm a little, curved his hand across her back and shoulders. He held her close, turning to press a kiss to the top of her hair. She smelled like embrium and electricity. He did not know how that was possible, but somehow it was true.
"I will never want to go back. And you know what happens when I am late, Varric." Smiling sadly, the woman lifted her head to press her lips to his stubbly cheek. She smiled sweetly in the growing darkness and Varric felt his heart swell at the sight of her. Despite her diminutive size for a human, she was still taller than he. It never mattered much; at least, not to him. He didn't think it bothered her either, as she still kissed him much the same.
It was true, what she said. Even then, Varric could see the lights coming up throughout the tower that lay before them in the lake. Soon a boat would head their way - Varric would need to be out of sight by then. The templars did not like their mages to fraternize, even with dwarves. (Although, Varric thought, what was the worst that could come of it? No dwarf was ever born a mage.) - and she would have to leave him again for the night, as she always did.
"Some day, I will figure out a way to take you with me, my love. You will travel the world at my side, like we have always talked about." He turned his body and pulled her close, even the tell-tale sound of crinkling paper would not keep him from crushing her to him. "I swear to you, we will be together someday."
He pulled back a little and she looked up at him from her sideways position, her body curved along the dock and his leg, making her appear smaller in his arms. Tears glittered in her storm-colored eyes and the smile she wore was a sad one. She wished it were true, but she knew too that it was impossible. The stolen moments she was barely allowed were all they could ever hope to have.
A splash broke the spell, and the hanging lantern of the Templars' boat had them scrambling up. She hide the papers inside her robes and helped Varric to put his things back where they belonged. He glanced out over the water, noting the boat was gaining on their solace slowly. On a whim, a dangerous whim, he pressed his warm hands to her face and pulled her closer to him gently.
"I love you. You must trust me, Bianca. I will not fail you."
Isabela sniffled a little before she dropped her mug of ale, now empty, heavily onto the table in front of her. She settled the papers she had been reading down and kicked up her feet, causing her chair to tip backwards a little. Resting her boots on the table, she lounged there a moment and threw her arm behind her head.
"You know I don't mind sharing my stories," Varric spoke as he entered through the doorway, another two mugs of ale in his hands as he made towards the table that the pirate-thief occupied, "But I do prefer to be present."
"Are you afraid I'll find something?" Isabela grinned, waggling her eyebrows at him as she took the offered mug, letting the chair legs come crashing to the floor. "The dirty ones are better. Sweet and romantic aren't really your style. And the whole mage thing?" Isabela snorted, pushing the papers towards Varric. "Lovely as ever, honestly. But I miss the steamy bits."
A look may have passed over Varric's face, but Isabela hardly took notice. She was too busy with her own face in her mug. Varric only grunted, sitting himself into one of his chairs after fishing out another pile of papers. "Steamy bits? Here, then. I'll let you guess the title when you're done."
Isabela gave him a gleeful look as she took the papers up, hunching over the table to paw through them. She paused after a few moments and looked at the dwarf again, tilting her head a little to the side. "Are you ever going to tell me the truth, Varric?"
"About what, Rivaini?"
Isabela's eyes slid over to the papers she had discarded, which Varric was now hoarding close to him, before she caught his gaze again. "Anything," she laughed, downing more of her ale.
"You'll just have to wait and see, I guess."