Varric's Hawke

by ArtemisFallen

I have always wished Varric was a love interest, so I made him one for this story! This is a short story about Verity Hawke dealing with depression and the loss of her family, and being left broken hearted by her lover (Fenris). When she is at her lowest, she discovers she is not as alone as she feels. Varric has been silently waiting for her all this time.

"I wish just once you would stare at me like that," Isabela quipped.

"Hm?" Hawke answered, shaken from her sullen reverie.

Isabela scoffed and rolled her eyes, sprawling herself out on the table in front of Hawke, bringing one leg up high. "You're likely to burn a hole in him if you stare any harder!"

Hawke chuckled without humor and averted her gaze from Fenris. She had been to this sad, dark place in her mind before. She was finding it increasingly difficult to pull herself out of it each time she fell victim to it again. She looked down at Isabela, who posed lewdly on the table. "Why do you need me to stare at you? You have the attention of everyone in here."

It was true. Isabela's dark, scantily clad and luscious body sprawled out on the table had grabbed the attention of every eye in the Hanged Man. Isabela laughed in delight and began to writhe in mock pleasure on the table, knocking a stray plate and mug to the floor. Her hands snaked up her body and through her bodice slowly. She clutched herself and hissed lasciviously through her teeth. Hawke raised an eyebrow and rescued her ale before Isabela could knock it onto the floor with her display.

"I think we should give them a show," Isabela purred. She slid off the table and into Hawke's lap, wrapping her legs around Hawke and the chair. She was definitely a nimble pirate, especially when she was in the mood for some attention. Isabela began massaging Hawke's shoulders, her hands dipping lower, gliding over Hawke's breasts. Isabela looked up and stared at a man at the bar. He stood watching them as if he were frozen, his stein hovering inches from his mouth which hung agape.

Hawke sighed. She wasn't feeling up to the game tonight.

"Isabela, come on…" She started.

Isabela hands came up and cupped Hawke's cheeks gently. "What's wrong, my delicious kitten?"

Hawke's gaze shifted back over to Fenris, who sat pushed up against the wall as usual, a scowl on his handsome face. He held some playing cards in his hand, but like the rest of the tavern, he sat watching Isabela and Hawke.

Isabela scoffed. "Fenris." She threw her arms around Hawke's neck and cradled her. Hawke wrapped her arms around Isabela's waist, fully aware of the cleavage that pressed softly into her cheek. The frozen man flinched at the sight of the two entwined women and the sound of his stein crashing to the floor resonated throughout the tavern.

Isabela completely ignored him, resting her head on top of Hawke's, gently stroking her long blonde hair. "There, there, my Blue Pigeon. Would you like me to break into his mansion and trade out all his sexy, spikey armor for pink frilly things again?"

Hawke looked up at Isabela. "That was you?"

Isabela stared innocently back at Hawke. "Well, It was Anders' idea, he just needed somebody to pick the lock!"

Despite trying, Hawke found a smile on her lips. Isabela reciprocated the smile. "There's the Hawke I know!" Isabela slid off her lap and flopped heavily on the bench beside her. The tavern quickly returned to its normal business now that the show was over. Hawke saw Fenris drop his eyes back to his cards and resume the game with Varric and Donnic.

Isabela waved her hand in front of Hawke's face. "There you go again!" She huffed. "Hawke, no man is worth this!"

Hawke shrugged and sadly looked down into her stein before draining the last drops of bitter ale. Isabela leaned down, her face inches from Hawke's. "Are you alright?"

Hawke sighed. "It's just difficult, seeing him every day and pretending like nothing ever happened between us. He wears my favor around his wrist and the Amell crest on his side. When I try to talk to him about it, he makes excuses or runs off. I don't know what to think."

Isabela fiddled with her dagger, dragging it across the table. "You know what you need? To get absolutely shit faced!"

Hawke sighed. "I don't know, Isabela…"

Isabela jumped up. "Trust me! I've got some Sun Blonde Vint stashed in my room."

Hawke looked up at her enthusiastic outburst. "Maker save us! Where did you get that kind of spirit?"

Isabela winked. "A lady never tells."

"You stole it," Hawke said with a groan.

Isabela pouted. "I won it in a game of cards."

"Which you cheated at, no doubt," Hawke said.

Isaballa grinned. "Of course!" She turned on her heel and ran to her room in the back of the tavern. Hawke shook her head and returned to her empty stein. She heard him approach, but refrained from acknowledging his presence.

"Did I hear Isabela say she had a bottle of Sun Blonde Vint?" Fenris asked softly.

Hawke nodded, refusing to look into his eyes. "You were listening?"

Fenris stood rigid for a moment. "Hard not to. She practically announced it to all of Kirkwall."

"You want to join us, then?" Hawke asked.

"Hardly," Fenris said and then stopped, noticing the wince on Hawke's face. "I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to warn you. That particular spirit is brewed in Tevinter. It is nearly weightless, yet incredibly powerful and has been known to be poisonous if ingested in large quantities."

Hawke nodded. "I'll take it under advisement."

"Hawke," Fenris began when Isabela pushed him aside.

"Don't go raining on our little party, Fenris, or I really will pluck out your eyes and wear them as a necklace!" Isabela threatened.

Fenris glowered at Isabela and then turned back to Hawke. "Just be careful." He turned and stalked back to the card table. Varric shot Hawke a sympathetic look.

"Right, then!" Isabela announced cheerfully, "let's get hanged."

Isabela offered the bottle to Hawke. Hawke took it reluctantly and saw Fenris out of the corner of her eye. He shook his head slowly.

Hawke lifted the bottle and toasted Isabela. "To getting hanged."

Fenris had been right. The spirit was incredibly light, but kicked like an angry basilisk. Hawke had only swallowed three drinks of the spirit and already she could feel herself spinning and floating carelessly. Hawke watched as the room rippled. She reached out and stroked the air.

"Isabela, are you seeing this?" Hawke asked, grinning in pleasure.

Isabela laughed heartily as she drank from the bottle. "The whole bloody room is moving!" She yelled out and fell off the bench laughing and pointing at the air.

"What's all this?" Merrill asked sheepishly as she came around the bar. Hawke grinned widely, slapping the bench beside her.

"Merrill! Sit and have a drink with us!"

Merrill slowly drifted over and sat hunched next to Hawke. She gazed down at Isabela, who snatched at invisible things in the air.

"What's gotten into her?" Merrill asked. Hawke reached down and with considerable effort, yanked the Sun Blonde Vint from Isabela's fingers. She showed it to Merrill before she took another long, slow drink of the spirit, feeling all her troubles and darkness fall away even further.

"Can I try some?" Merrill inquired softly. Hawke offered her the bottle.

"I wouldn't do that, Daisy," Varric warned from his table. Hawke turned her blurred gaze to Varric. Even in her deteriorating state, she could see Fenris beside him, smoldering in anger. There were fresh gouges in the table from the spikes of his armored gauntlet. Hawke ignored him.

"Why shouldn't I?" Merrill asked as defiantly as she could muster. "I've had honey mead before and had a fine time."

"Yea…Yeah, Varric!" Isabela yelled from the floor. She slowly climbed to her knees and then collapsed over the table. "Let our little Dalish mouse have some fun."

Varric shook his head with a smile. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Not long after Merrill sat at the table, frantically crying out in Dalish. Varric groaned, pushing away from the card table and walked over to them.

Merill shrieked at his approach and dove under the table.

"Maker's Breath, how much did you let her have, Rivaini?' He asked incredulously.

Isabela held up one finger and then locked her gaze on it, moving it from side to side, completely entranced.

Varric sighed. "What's in that stuff?"

"Good things," Hawke slurred. She lifted her hand and flames erupted in her palm. Startled, she fell backwards and began giggling. Merrill scrambled out from underneath the table and clung to Varric, watching Hawke's fire.

"I didn't mean for that to happen!" Hawke gasped through her laughter. She began to blow on the flame only to cause it to grow larger. This caused her to laugh harder.

"Balls!" Isabela yelled out as she watched the flames and then dropped her head to the table, laughing and snorting.

"Andraste's dimpled buttcheeks!" Varric swore. "All of you are pissed to the void!"

Hawke finally put out the flame and grabbed for the Sun Blonde Vint. She lifted it and began to take another drink when the bottle was pulled from her lips.

"I can't let you do this to yourself, Hawke," Fenris growled.

Isabela clutched for the bottle. "Hey, that's mine."

Fenris stared down at her, lifting the bottle from her grasp. Hawke stood up, toppling over Isabela and grabbed for the bottle.

Fenris ripped away, his armor cutting Hawke's hand. "Hawke, I'm… sorry," Fenris murmured.

Hawke gazed drunkenly at her hand. The blood flowed from the wound and began to drop to the floor. Hawke stared at the small puddle of blood and began to twirl her finger slowly. The pooled blood began to collect and formed a small red dragon that took flight. Hawke stood opened mouth at the magic she was weaving.

"Dragon!" She slurred, pointing at it fly.

Fenris sighed and capped the bottle and put it on the table while Varric stared wide eyed at Hawke's magical blood dragon. Merrill pointed to the strange creature flying about the tavern and began to shout shrilly. "Elgar'Harel! Elgar'Harel!"

Donnic jumped up and grabbed Merrill who collapsed against him and began to cry. "I'll uh, see to it she gets home." He slowly coaxed a hysterical Merrill to the door and left. Hawke slowly chased her manifestation throughout the empty tavern.

"What is that stuff doing to them?" Varric asked.

"It's a Tevinter brew," Fenris answered. "It actually uses a poison that amplifies the level of intoxication."

"Some brew," Varric scoffed.

"They've had too much. We need to get them catsbane to counteract the poison," Fenris remarked solemnly.

"I'm sure Blondie has that in stock," Varric said.

Fenris nodded. "I'll get it." He walked away and then stopped, his shoulders slumped. "Varric…" he said, a hint of despair in his voice. "Please, take care of Hawke." Then he disappeared out the door.

"Varric, I want the bottle!" Isabela bellowed, reaching for the Sun Blonde Vint. Varric snatched it off the table before Isabela could get to it.

"I think you've had enough for one night, Rivaini," he said gently, patting her lightly on the head.

He heard a crash and turned to see Hawke sprawled on the floor, twisted up in a bar stool. Moments later, her magical dragon began to ripple and disappeared in small puff of black smoke. Varric stared at the bottle for a moment and then back to his incapacitated friends.

"No, thank you," he muttered to the bottle and stuffed it in his pocket. He motioned to the bartender. "Corff, a little help, if you please?"

It was going to be a long night.

Hawke woke up with a terrible heaviness in her head. She groaned and rolled over, burying her face in the softness of her pillows.

Varric's voice floated through the haze that hung over her. "Welcome back to the living, Hawke."

Hawke opened her eyes and hissed against the dim candlelight. "Oh, Varric…" She groaned. "I feel like I've been trampled by a Darkspawn horde."

Varric laughed heartily and Hawke held her head with her hands. Varric put a warm cup to her lips. "Here," he said gently. "Blondie said it would help with the pain."

Hawke drank the warm liquid gratefully. "Thanks, Varric." She finished the concoction and handed Varric back the cup, rubbing her temples gingerly. "I'm rather fuzzy on the details. Did I make too much of a spectacle of myself?"

Varric shrugged and sat on the side of the bed. "No worse than Rivaini and Daisy."

Hawke groaned and pushed herself up on her arm a little. "How long have I been out?"

"A whole day," Varric replied casually.

"A whole day?" Hawke asked shrilly and then quickly covered her head with her hand. "How do Merrill and Isabela fair?"

Varric smiled. "Daisy's fine. She did say that stuff was cursed and she was muttering something about a dread spirit. And Rivaini… well, she was acting odd."

Hawke gazed at Varric, slowly getting used to the light in the room. "Why? What happened?"

"Well, I saw her sneaking around outside earlier tonight with a frilly, pink night gown. I have no sodding clue what she intends to do with that!"

Hawke smiled and allowed herself to chuckle, remembering what Isabela had said to her in the tavern earlier. "I know what she was doing. Don't worry, Varric. She's fine."

Varric reached forward and put his hand over Hawke's. The motion surprised her a little. "I'm more worried about you."

Hawke waved her free hand dismissively. "I'm fine, Varric. Don't worry about me."

"I do worry about you, Hawke. You've been different since the Elf left you and since your mother…" Varric trailed off.

Hawke stared down at her bed linens, steeling herself against her emotions.

"I'm not blind, Hawke. I know you're unhappy," Varric continued.

Hawke swiped a tear that threatened to fall from her eye. She refused to break down or look weak in front of Varric. "It's fine. I'll manage. I always do."

"That's not fair, Hawke. You have to confide in somebody or you'll fall apart," Varric countered softly.

Hawke looked up at Varric, her eyes burning with the threat of tears. "I thought I had someone, but he didn't want me."

"Hawke…" Varric said, his heart wrenching. He looked at her sad, tired face. She was the hero he had painted her to be in his stories, but so much more. Underneath all her strength, there was a scared, lonely soul. She had so much opposition to overcome. She was a mage, an apostate, she had lost her sister to the Darkspawn and her mother to a deranged mage. Her brother hated her and had joined the Templars to spite her. The only family she had left was a useless nughumping Uncle and the one man she had loved had forsaken her.

Varric looked at her in this light, as he had done so many times before in private and in silence. He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

A tear finally slid down her cheek. "I wasn't strong enough, Varric. I failed my family. I lost my sister and my mother. Carver still lives, but he is lost to me. I've lost Fenris. All because of magic."

Varric shook his head hard. "No, that's not true. You're magic had nothing to do with that. You're magic is what has saved you and me and others countless times. And the Elf, his hang up is him. It has nothing to do with you, Hawke."

"I'm just…" Her expression became forlorn. "I'm just so lonely, Varric. Everyone I love leaves me."

Varric's heart thundered in his chest and he felt a knot in his throat. He had stayed his tongue for nearly five years. He could not hold back any longer. "I haven't left you, Hawke."

Hawke jerked her head up and gazed at him. "What did you say?"

Varric smiled gently and pushed himself up next to her, his face hovering mere inches from hers.

"I didn't know how to say it," Varric chuckled ruefully. "I'm a blighted fool. I write stories and wield words on parchment, but I could never tell you how I truly felt."

Hawke gazed at him, eyes wide with surprise, the last of her hangover diminished from her eyes. "How you felt?"

Varric lifted her hand, gently turning it and kissing her palm. "Yes, how I've felt for a very long time."

"Are you serious?" Hawke asked, her voice hopeful.

"I swear it on my irresistible chest hair," Varric said with a wink.

Hawke's eyes fluttered down and a blush crossed over her cheeks. Varric reached out, tracing his finger softly against her jaw. She looked up at him and he twirled a long blonde lock around his finger.

"Varric," she said softly. "I had no idea. I've always adored you. And I can't say I haven't had my share of… fantasies." She flushed red again, the gentle hue encompassing her entire face. "Maker! You're making me blush!"

Varric grinned widely. "Fantasies, huh? What kind of fantasies?"

Hawke dropped her eyes again. "I would tell you, but what would Bianca say?" She mumbled shyly.

Varric hooked his fingers under her chin and brought her eyes up to his. Her violet eyes glowed with a hint of pink hue as she gazed up at him. She was remarkable.

"Oh, she'll be devastated, but she'll understand…eventually."

"Varric," Hawke whispered. Varric rubbed his finger over her soft lips to quiet her.

"I love you, Verity Hawke. And I'm never going to leave you." He leaned down and kissed her mouth, something he had wanted to do for years, but had denied himself.

Her mouth was soft against his and her tongue was sweet. He pulled away, trailing his lips over her neck. The sound of her quickening breath caused his stomach to rise and fall pleasurably. She gripped him, her sighs of pleasure rippling through her body. His hand traced her collarbone, slipping inside her robe and rubbing her shoulder.

She ran her hands up and through his chest hair and then around his neck, loosening the tie that bound his hair. He slid his lips down her neck and between her breasts, caressing her gently. She moaned softly at his touch.

"Am I going to fast?" He asked reluctantly.

"Don't stop," she whispered almost breathlessly. Varric wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his face in the nape of her neck.

He made love to her then. Holding her in his arms, touching her softly and giving to her all the physical and emotional pleasures he could offer. Her moans filled him with a desire that ignited him and he was happy to ease the pain of her loneliness.

When it was over, they lay on the bed together, her head against his chest. He stroked her skin lightly, reveling in the feel of her, his Hawke. After all this time, he was finally able to call her his.

"Varric?" She asked.

"Yes, milady?" He asked contentedly.

Hawke found a smile pulling at the edges of her lips. "Are you going to put this in your story?"

Varric chuckled and kissed the top of her head. Her hair moved and he could faintly see the wisps of her delicate face tattoo in the flickering candlelight. Her hand stroked absent mindedly up and down his chest. "Nothing I write could ever compare to this."

Hawke smiled. Varric noticed the sadness had disappeared from her eyes and she was once again the woman he had once known. "Hm, so you have me all to yourself then?"

Varric smiled. He liked the sound of that. "Yes," he mused. "And I am yours."

He leaned down again, his lips touching against hers. He felt her smile widen as he kissed her and wrapped his arms around her.

His Hawke.