The light from the sun danced off the luscious greenery that covered the Hinterlands. The old ruins stood out as the Qunari mage and her short companion walked past the white crumbling structure and down another hill, there was plenty of elfroot about, and the Inquisitor wasted no time in plucking them from the ground. Not ten years prior, the area surrounding Redcliffe village had mostly been mud and dried up grass, but now the blights effects had finally worn away and life had returned to the area. It was beautiful, but Varric mused that it wasn't for him.

"There are people who actually do this for fun," he audibly scoffed as he nearly stepped into another pile of animal dung. He preferred hard stone, pavement, walls and a roof over his head. Perhaps it was his Dwarven blood that made him feel that way, but he had never felt much any real sorrow for not living with his people underground. No, he knew what the problem was. He missed Kirkwall, he missed the Hanged Man, he missed his friends, and most of all he missed Hawke.

About now, he would usually be relaxing in the tavern, the sounds of rowdy drunkenness, failed proposals and laughter filling the air. He'd be telling stories of Hawke's grand feats, which rarely needed any embellishment at all. Or, he'd be walking the streets of Kirkwall, all the way from Hightown to Darktown, making conversation with his friends along the way. His current company was less than talkative.

Just more than half a mile back, the Inquisitor had ordered Cassandra and Blackwall to separate from them and deal with a group of Red Templars while herself and Varric went on ahead to scout the area. Varric wasn't actually sure why they had come out to the Hinterlands. At most they had collected some minor resources and dealt with a few pockets of resistance, but that was about it. Still he didn't question it as in his own words, too much weird shit was going on for him to care. The one solace he took was that because of the quiet, everything seemed surprisingly normal. However, he craved interaction, conversation, something that felt familiar to him.

Herah Adaar was a cold woman, like hard stone as Varric would put it. From the moment he met the Qunari, Varric knew she would be a difficult woman to read, but even after all this time he still couldn't figure her out. She seemed unmoving, unfeeling. Her facial expressions, or lack thereof, were set to a permanent state of disinterest at everything around her; yet, everything she had done would prove otherwise. She had gone out of her way to help refugees and other civilians with the most menial of tasks, bring food to eat, collecting herbs and other supplies, Varric recalled the time she tracked down a group of Templars who had killed an innocent man just so she could return the ring they stole from his body to his grieving widow. Her body language said one thing, but her actions said another.

Varric had only spoken to her a few times. They were usually questions about red lyrium, or Hawke's past. Thinking about it just made Varric think how unlike Hawke the Inquisitor was. Hawke was charismatic, cocky, and always had a one-liner at the ready; it just made him feel even more more homesick. However, Varric had made his bed and was determined to sleep in it, so he would see this adventure right to the bitter end. At this point, he decided to throw caution to the wind and at least try to start a conversation with her.

"So, your Inquisitorialness, you never told me where we're headed." He heard her grunt as she continued to pick up herbs, not even turning to face him.

"Were finishing up in the area," said Herah. "There's meant to be a tear not too far ahead. I want it dealt with now so we can focus elsewhere." Her voice was deep, but there were still feminine tones hidden underneath. She stood up, her red, black and silver outfit shining brightly in the sun. It was easy to see why so many could easily accept her as the herald of Andraste. Despite her obviously not being human, she gave off a regal pose, one that fit her title perfectly.

"Fair enough, only a bare minimum of heroic acts today? I can live with that," Varric chuckled to himself. The Inquisitor remained motionless for a moment, staring up at the sky.

"You must not be used to this?" She said, turning to face the Dwarf.

"Pardon?"

"The outdoors, so much sky. My mercenary company once hired a Dwarf straight from Orzammar. When he got topside, he kept clutching the sky, claiming he'd fall upwards if he'd let go." Varric snickered to himself as he explained.

"Well, actually Inquisitor, I was born on the surface. Kirkwall has always been my home. Have I never told you? I'm the head of my family's merchant guild."

"Haven't you been to the deep roads before? That's where you found the red lyrium isn't it?" As she said that, Herah motioned for Varric to follow as they started to trek forward again.

"Yeah, don't remind me," he grumbled. "I don't make it a point to visit every other weekend for a reason. I hate the deep roads."

Silence fell between them for a moment. Varric stared at the ground, watching each of his footsteps crush the grass below, only for it to rise again as he stepped off of it. He knew he should have been keeping alert, Bianca at the ready to deal damage, but he knew the Inquisitor had that covered. He settled himself ready for a long silence.

"… It isn't your fault you know." Varric looked up at the Inquisitor, confused as to what she was talking about. "I mean the red lyrium. You seem to blame yourself for it being on the surface, but I know for a fact that it makes no sense that one piece would produce all of this."

"Heh, you sure about that? That tiny piece did some pretty weird shit back home." Varric scrunched up his nose at the memory.

"How could it have produced any of the red lyrium at the temple of sacred ashes? That piece had never been there. It is likely that this form of lyrium has been steadily growing for some time, perhaps helped by an outside force, but certainly not you, Varric."

The way she said his name, Varric swore it was sympathetic. More of the woman inside of her rolled out as she said that last word. When his gaze met hers, he could see she still wore her piercing eyes and thin frown. The Dwarf rubbed the back of his head, letting out an insincere laugh to himself.

"Maybe you're right, but I've got to take some responsibility for all of this mess," Varric said through a sigh. He looked forward seeing nothing but trees and hills for miles. He took a small pleasure from the fact that he had managed to get her to speak to him, but now he felt like more of an ass than before. "All we wanted was to make a bit of gold. All Hawke wanted was to keep his sister safe from the Templars…" He reminisced with a sigh.

"Ah, yes, I remember," Herah interrupted. "When you went into the deep roads, she contracted the taint and was made into a grey warden. Not exactly a mercy from what I hear."

Varric went wide eyed and practically stopped in his tracks. He looked up at the inquisitor, trying to see if there was anything different, but as usual she was impossible to read, Puzzled for a moment, he searched through his head for how the Inquisitor could have known that, and even when he knew the answer it seemed like an impossibility to him.

"You've read my book," he said in disbelief.

"Hmm? Yes, the tale of the champion, I've read it. I also read "Hard in Hightown." They were both amusing tales, though the latter disappointed me slightly." Varric didn't care about the criticism, he was still in shock that this marvel of a woman, this no-nonsense, battle hardened spiritual leader had read his stories. But still, he had to no exactly know what was so underwhelming about his best selling series.

"What was disappointing about my other book?"

"From the title, I thought it was smut."

Varric burst out laughing. The sheer absurdity of the scenario had taken over his mind. He clutched his stomach, barely regaining his composure.

"So, the Inquisitor has a dirty side to her?" Varric said, pointing upwards at her. Herah turned her head to look down at him; her eyes squinted with a noticeable frown.

"Is that a problem?" She said with a predatory growl.

"Oh no. Heh, just excuse me as bask in my own smugness."

Herah rolled her eyes as silence fell between the two again. The only sounds that could he heard were the rustling of trees and birds chirping above them. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like the good old days.

"Alright then, Dwarf," said Herah, snapping Varric back to reality. "You're a storyteller. Amuse me then; tell me a story."

Varric rubbed his hands together and a large grin spread on his lips.

"Alright then Inquisitor, how about this one? Hawke was walking around Hightown one day when he was stopped by a group of armed Antivan's . They asked Hawke, because of his reputation of course, for his help in tracking down this "deadly killer"…"


Over the next half an hour, Varric regaled the Inquisitor with adventures and jokes as they made their way to the rendezvous point. They arrived in a small clearing, which was perfect for setting up camp. As they waited for Cassandra and Blackwall to return, Varric continued on as the Inquisitor listened patiently. Varric wasn't even sure if Herah was enjoying his tales; his mood was simply too positive to care. Her reactions varied from nods to grunts as she stood there listening to the Dwarf prattle on about anything that came to his mind.

Cassandra and Blackwell were close by as Varric was finishing his final joke. He had the Inquisitor's full attention as he delivered the punchline.

"… So I said, "Oh, but ze Hanged Man ees so filthy!" And Broody just rolls his eyes and sneers, "it IS filthy."" Varric let out a hearty laugh at his own joke, wiping a fake tear from his eye. "It was priceless! You should have seen Hawke's fac-"

As Varric went to finish his sentence, he gazed up at the Inquisitor who was not laughing, but rather, she was wearing a familiar sneer on her face. The Dwarf swallowed the lump that had suddenly welled up in his throat, unsure of what to say next. A single bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. He nervously tapped his fingers together in order to keep his nerves in check as the much larger woman glared down at him. It was days like these when he cursed his stubby legs.

"… I, ah. Forgive me, Madam Inquisitor, but… I haven't offended, have I?" Varric curled his hands together, and presented the most convincing smile he could muster.

"…"

"…"

"That was a hilarious story," said the Inquisitor with a small smile. She rested her hands on her hips as Cassandra and Blackwall approached. Varric gingerly let down his guard, but raised his hands in a surrendering position when the Inquisitor pointed at him.

"You are a funny Dwarf," she said. Herah then bopped the Dwarf on the nose and then turned to leave. A very confused Varric lowered his arms, and just before the Inquisitor went out of earshot, he heard her say, "I like you."

The Inquisitor spotted some more elfroot, and went off to collect it. In the meantime, Varric's face felt a little warm. Although his arms had lowered, he kept the hands pointing upwards as he tried to figure out exactly what had happened. Blackwall walked off to follow Hadar, but Cassandra stepped behind Varric, her arms folded across her chest.

"Varric? Are you well?" Cassandra had not heard what was said between the Dwarf and the Qunari, but it seemed to leave Varric like a statue. "Why are you blushing?"

"Oh, I'm just trying to figure out the difference between Qunari and threats and Qunari flirting," Varric managed to get out. "Don't mind me, Seeker."


Hi there, if you're reading this then I thought I would give a slight update on this story. This chapter was recently reuploaded entirely and I will be doing that with the other chapters in this fanfic. I started this years ago as a bit of writing exercise and recently got the desire to go back to old projects and see them finished. There's no huge changes here, just revised dialogue, grammar and various other fixes to make it flow better, and after I've fixed up the rest I will focus on finishing this story once and for all. All criticism is welcome here, and I hope you enjoy the rest of the story. Thank you.