The Missing Chapter

By Varric Tethrys

I hope you enjoy this first chapter of my Varric/Hawke romance. It's a fun little romp about love and need and romance and friendship. Did it really take them 10 years to come together? And what will they do with all that sexual attraction and unrequited love? This is a short story, some five or six chapters at most but it's been a pleasure to write.

Friendship...

It's over. Hawk's story ends when she disappears off into the bright, golden sunset and reappears…when? Ever? But what if I were here to tell you that Hawk's story isn't done? That she had one last adventure before fading into the tales I spin for the fun of spinning, catching each and every one of you in my golden web of lies and reality? It's true. There is one last chapter that I've never spoken of. It's a good one too! Imagine the beautiful, heroic Champion of Kirkwall with her soft, black hair and dancing violet eyes falling for this crafty dwarf? Too perfect to be true? But, alas, my sweet Bianca has a rival for my affection and this is how it all happened. So sit back, grab yourself a tall one because Varric here is going to once again ensnare you…

"…and we stood there, surrounded by at least two hundred Qunari, just the four of us! The Champion pulled out her staff and this huge fireball, about the size of a house, erupted from her hands. It plowed through, oh, thirty of them at once, instantly decimating their numbers. Bianca was thirsty so I.."

"Telling your tall tales again, I see, Varric…" came a familiar voice behind me. She was tall, handsome and bore herself with an air of nobility that was nevertheless humble. Though a powerful mage, she wore armor and carried a sword worthy of the finest warriors. Kirkwall's Champion, her hero and her pride stood before me, smiling that crooked grin that never failed to make me smile in return. Maker's breath but that woman could cause a priest's pants to rise to attention. Bianca was jealous as it was, so I told my own to chill out.

"Well, you know how it is. The people love me so I give them what they crave," I said with a chuckle. She flashed that grin at me again and in the pale lamp-light surrounding us here at the Hanged Man, my home and my base of operation here in Kirkwall, I could see that smile was sad. I bowed to my loving fans and took my leave of them, gestured to the Champion to follow me to my private suite so that we could talk. Once surrounded by the opulence of my current lifestyle (hey, I'm a wealthy dwarf with expensive tastes. Give me a break, would ya?) Kylea Hawk passed me a letter as she leaned back in her chair, her legs crossed and her fingers stroking her lower lip. She was very upset; I could see the tears just waiting to fall. "What's this?" I asked, thumbing open the letter.

"Read it," came the hoarse reply. So I did.

"My love,

Please forgive this hasty departure but as you know, Starkhaven's people want a return of their true prince. Try as I might, being a brother and your spiritual love has proven impossible. Please, do not blame yourself. My responsibilities are too many and now I must return home before my cousin makes a mess of things. I have been forgiven of my vows so that I may do this. I know this is abrupt and please forgive my impetus but what I've done is for the best. The maker guides me in this decision and I am glad to make it, even if I am a bit sad for leaving you to do it.

As I prepare to depart, I know that my leave-taking will be hard on you. You have allowed yourself to fall in love with me, a thing Andraste understood all too well. But it is for love of my people that I must leave you and with you here, needed by Kirkwall and I in Starkhaven what we could have had cannot ever be. Sadly, I will have to marry into a political union that will preclude any chance of us being together. Ever. Forgive me. You were my one true love and though it must hurt you greatly to see these words when you know I will not return to your side as anything more than a friend, I can assure you that they are true. How I wish we could have made something more of what had. Alas, there is no other way. I love you, Kylea. I will pray for your heart to mend and your soul to find its way as you move on. Perhaps the remaining Sisters in the Chantry can appeal to counsel you in this sad moment? I know that I will seek our Sisters guidance when I return to Starkhaven.

Good luck, my friend, my love… You were ever the great one and may the Maker light your way along your future path.

Sincerely and with all my love,

Honorably, Prince Sebastian Vael, Starkhaven."

I looked up at her as I walked over to a tavern-girl I found in the hall and ordered us two glasses of something that I'm certain wasn't legal in most places. "Send it to my room, if you please," I told her. I then turned my attention back to Kyelea and raised an eyebrow as I said, "So I guess this means I can start referring to him as 'Jackass' without getting the evil eye?" I asked, pretending to be innocent. A moment later, a barmaid walked into my room to serve us our drinks and I handed one to Kylea. She kicked back the short, fat cup in her hand, downing the contents and shrugged. "Well, that means you're single I suppose. Any man worth his coin would be lucky to have you…" It was an innocent comment, not one meant to do anything more than gain appreciation. But there are times when I still underestimate her wit.

"Are you volunteering?" she quipped back at me.

I held out my hands in protest. "No! Of course not!"

"Then shut up and drink with me." Now that was a request I could agree with. So we sat and drank and nobody seemed to care that Kirkwall's champion was downing beverages of a most questionable nature with a dwarf of the same. It was nice and I admit that I'd missed it.

Eventually, she left to head back to her big, empty suite in the Viscount's keep for a few hours of shut-eye and I went back to my bed. I found it telling that even drunk as we were, we still respected each other enough to not even attempt a sympathy roll in the sheets. Granted, it was tempting to offer but…nah. Why ruin a great friendship for a few minutes of passion?

The days passed into weeks and I saw Hawk from time to time as she updated me on various things going about the city. I did most of the updating but I think she enjoyed feeling useful. Besides, it was an excuse to see her best buddy, I think. Not that I minded but she always seemed so sad. Slowly, her mood eventually improved and heartache appeared to fade. She was finally teasing me again. Then one night, she returned with yet another letter. Her eyes were streaming with tears and her cheeks were red. Sebastian again, I gathered as I took the note. One thing about my Hawk, she had a hard time hiding her emotions. You could always tell when she was having a bad day just by looking at her face. I thumbed her cheek, wiped away a tear. It was quickly replaced by another.

The note had a happy tone, his usual careless string of niceties and prayers for this or that. He hoped she was doing well, he hoped Kirkwall was rebuilding so forth and so on. It was a lovely letter and in no way insulting. I initially didn't get Hawk's barely contained fury. Then I got to the bit about his wedding. And his invitation. And how it was because of her that he could go through with it. And how the Maker had led him on this course. Maker's breath! The man was blind to the core. No wonder she was upset. I threw the letter into the fire and stroked Kye's back. She turned to me, her arms around my neck and her face pressed into my shoulder. I held her in return. "Come, Sweetness… He's not worth it. No man is. He'll always be married to the damn Chantry and no one, not even the bit of mindless fluff he's marrying will ever change that. Remember: he's a jackass and you're perfect. Besides, you've got me!" I thought I heard a distinct, throaty chuckle. There was hope for her yet, I decided.

After some time of weeping and drinking, she was too far gone to escort back to the Keep so I took her to a room here at the Inn. It wasn't much, just a bed and a fireplace with a couple of chairs and a table. It was about as clean as the rest of the place, which wasn't exactly saying much. I did all those best friend things like helping her undress to her barest essentials (not a lot, apparently. I got an eye-full!) and I did the ultimate Best Friend thing: I held a bucket to her face before she puked all over the bed. After a while, clean and a little less sick, she cried in my arms. Eventually, she welcomed the embrace of the pillows as I laid her down to sleep at last. Quietly, I sat back on my stool and contemplated our friendship, what it meant and how it had shaped us.

One thing about our friendship, there was really nothing between us that wasn't understood or known. I'd even once whispered to her about how Bianca got her name! Now that's saying something about how much I trusted her. And that there was the key: trust. It was implicit and undeniable trust and faith in one another. It made us good partners and it made us better friends. But what if it made us more than that? For the first time, I wondered if Bianca had a rival.

With Kylea on my mind, I walked back up the hall to my suite and undressed. I looked at myself in the tall mirror in my room. It was impressive and had cost a fortune but ultimately worth the cost of making sure I didn't look like your average Duster. I thought I was fairly good looking as dwarves went. Firing a crossbow as big and unruly as my Bianca (sorry, darlin') leaves a man with a powerful torso, chest and arms. I was a bit hirsute, blond hair covering my body in all the right places, save my clean-shaven face and lately I'd taken to holding back my hair in a neat ponytail at the nape of my neck. I experimentally flexed my right arm and flashed a grin. If I looked good, then why wasn't I seeing anyone? It wasn't Bianca… Well, maybe it was. She is pretty intimidating.

Shrugging, I walked back my bed and tried to sleep. All I could see in my mind, though, was the Champion. What was I going to do? She needed me to be a friend and I somehow had to pull a rabbit out of my ass and make her get over Sebas-eh-Jackass. How was I going to do that? Then, as darkness claimed my vision, I knew exactly what I was going to do…

The next day, she was propping up the bar, drinking something legal only in underworld communities that aren't patrolled regularly. I was impressed by the strength of her stomach and her tolerance for the taste. She seemed to rival only Isabella in her capacity to drink without showing the effects immediately. It was unhealthy. Why unhealthy? Because she'd never been this way before and all of a sudden she was turning into someone the Choir Boy would have wanted to "fix". Maybe that was her goal but it was a bit late. You don't make yourself undesirable to the man who threw you aside after he tosses you to the curb, after all. She needed a distraction; something to get her thinking about something other than the Jackass. I needed to get her away from Kirkwall, for a while at least.

The barkeep smiled and waved at me as I drew near the bar. He slid a drink my way and, though I had a tab, I tossed him a coin anyway. It made him smile and solute. I slid into one of the well-worn barstools and then I withdrew a sheet of paper from my pocket. After unfolding it, I placed it on the bar under my gloved hand. "How ya doin', Hawk?" I asked, my brow raised.

She gave me a noncommittal shrug. "I want to recreate Anders' little trick with Sebastian inside if you catch my drift but since I'm not needlessly homicidal, I guess I can settle for thinking sinful things in his direction instead. I think I need a break from Kirkwall for a while. Don't you think I do? It's not only Sebastian, either. It's everything! It's the city, her demands, her people, her hopes and fears. And, honestly, I'm just not needed anymore. A while back, Sebastian said that during good times, a kingdom practically runs itself and hardly needs a king or a leader. It's during bad times that a leader become necessary. I figure if I can put the seneschal in charge, I can take an extended break and figure out who I am again. Is that too much to ask?" She fixed me with those brilliant amethyst eyes and I nearly forgot why I was here. "Well?"

I blinked at her slowly, dumbstruck for a moment. Her disheveled black hair was damp from a recent bath and clung to her face in wisps around her lean face. Her red lips were swollen and her eyes a bit puffy from crying though they seemed dry now. Without a verbal answer, I slid the paper across the bar until it was directly in front of her. Spilled beer bled through it as it she leaned over to gaze down at it and began to read. "This…is a ship's manifest! Why are you showing me this?"

I grinned broadly at her as I gave a gentle shove to her shoulder with my hand. "Keep reading, Sweetness."

"What?" her eyes shifted back to the beer-dampened manifest. "Okay… Oh…OH! 'Eight humans, three elves and…one dwarf! Is this what I think it is? Varric? Really? This ship leaves tomorrow morning! Maker! There's so much to do, Varric. We better get started immediately! I don't know what to say but…'thanks' seems so insufficient. I think I love you! " She was so excited I thought she was going to kiss me. A moment later, her arms encircled my neck and her lips were pressed against my cheek, almost upon my mouth. It was terrifically tempting to turn my head to reposition her mouth on mine but, being a good dwarf, I behaved and stayed still. I did hug her back and since being "good" is subjective in my case, I did grab her ass for the fun of it.

She laughed and waved the barkeep over. "Get him anything he wants. Sky's the limit, my friend. Varric Tethrys, you have just made my year."

"Can I cop another feel without fear of reprisal? I didn't get enough of your ass in my hand during the first one," I said with a short chuckle. Her reply was typical of my Hawk; she stuck out her tongue at me. I couldn't tell then if she was encouraging me or rebuffing me. She didn't exactly say "no", after all. Some men take a "non-no" as an invitation. I'm not typically one of those men but with Hawk, I had more a little more leeway than most due to the openness of our relationship. Think of us as a platonic married couple who know exactly what they can get away with and not get slapped. But sometimes, just maybe, I wonder if things might not be more interesting if the envelope could get pushed just a bit more…like all the way.

To be continued...