This was going to be more angst than friendship, but then I started adding more and more setup fluff so now its primary friendship, secondary angst. I also made it stupidly long, so I separated it into two chapters. Please enjoy!
It had only been a few months since Inquisitor Lavellan angrily disbanded the Inquisition and walked out on the Exalted Council. Varric regretted not being present to see the looks on the nobles' faces. He was able to get a retelling of the events out of Cassandra, though she did not spice up the details as much as he would have liked.
Before Varric had to return to Kirkwall to reassume his viscount duties he approached Levellan and reminded her that her new estate and title as a comtesse was still waiting for her back in Hightown. She promised she would come one day with a strained smile upon her face. She said she still had to take care of cleanly disbanding the Inquisition itself. Declaring it at a council meeting does not take care of the finer details needed. People needed to be alerted; messages needed to be sent to those dispatched around Thedas; Inquisition supplies needed to find a new home.
In the meantime, Varric and Hawke still worked towards rebuilding Kirkwall, not only from the Mage Rebellion, but also from Sebastian's invasion attempt. Thankfully Aveline's resistance (with the help of the Inquisition) was able to push back the Starkhaven forces back to where they belonged.
Varric did not hear a word from Levellan for months until he one day received a letter said she would arrive within the week. In that time Varric made sure to hire a few people to dust her estate and fill it with furniture to make it as welcoming as possible. He might have gone a bit overboard with the furniture though; a lot of it was a bit too lacy and Orlaisian for his tastes and he suspected the former Inquisitor would agree. She was Dalish after all; like Merrill, he was sure that she was perfectly comfortable sleeping on the ground.
When Varric's informants told him that Lavellan arrived at Kirkwall's gates that evening, he made the trip over to welcome her in. As soon as Lavellan caught his eyes, she hopped off her hart with a gracefulness that impressed Varric for someone missing their left arm, and then led her mount on its reigns over to him. She greeted him with a smile, but Varric could still see the weariness in her eyes that had not left her since the Exalted Council. Varric promised to give her a private tour of the city later as he lead them to Lavellan's estate in Hightown. While she was here he promised to introduce her to Merrill, since the two of them both used to be First to their respective clan's Keeper. Varric figured talking to another Dalish might help brighten the spirits of the presently aloof Lavellan.
When they arrived, Lavellan's eyes widened at the size of the estate. Varric smirked at her reaction, once again pleased with the powers he could abuse as viscount. He invited Lavellan to come eat a ridiculously expensive dinner with him to celebrate her arrival but she politely declined, saying she needed the rest. Varric could then see the weariness not only in her eyes, but in her posture. As Inquisitor, Lavellan's posture and gaze was strong and sharp, like the Inquisition itself. Now her gaze was distant and lowered, and the staff on her back seemed to weigh her down.
Lavellan looked like she needed a drink.
Before Lavellan could close the door and isolate herself for the rest of the day, Varric stuck his foot in the door. Lavellan looked down at the dwarf, with an eyebrow raised. "Yes, Varric?"
"If you won't join me for dinner tonight, then tomorrow night you'll join me and Hawke at the Hanged Man for a drink," Varric stated.
"Do I not have a choice in the matter?" Lavellan asked, the corners of her mouth were subtly upturned in amusement.
"That is correct. Don't make me abuse my viscount powers further and make the city guards escort you there," Varric smirked. "I'm sure I could even get the Guard-Captain herself to do it."
Varric knew that last bit was a lie. There was no way he could convince Aveline to do something so trivial for him, but Lavellan did not know that.
The elf chuckled. "Alright, Varric. I'll be there then. No need for guards."
"Perfect. Have a nice evening, Inquisit—" Varric stopped himself, then rubbed the stubble on his chin as he studied Lavellan in front of him. "Hm, perhaps I should call you something else now since you're no longer an Inquisitor."
"You can call me by my first name, Ellana," Lavellan suggested.
"If I do that, Hawke would get jealous and I don't want that. I still don't call her 'Marian' even after all these years. I don't have a nickname for you either, so 'Lavellan' will do for now," Varric decided.
Lavellan looked unamused, but did not protest it. "I guess Lavellan is better than getting a nickname I dislike."
"Definitely, because nobody gets vetoing power over my nickname choices."
Okay, other than Hawke, Varric thought. Only because my suggestions didn't fit. During their adventure involving Tallis, Varric had tried a few nicknames for Hawke. Waffles, Chuckles, Killer... none of them worked, though Chuckles worked perfectly for Solas later on.
"So I've noticed," Lavellan said, smiling. Her eyes became distant for a second; Varric imagined she was thinking back fondly to their Inquisition days.
"Anyway, I hope you don't mind the lacy pillows. My chest hair always finds some way to get tangled in them. Damn Orlaisians always favor fashion over comfort. I'll catch you later, Lavellan."
"Goodnight, Varric."
Varric gave a small wave before Lavellan shut the door.
She definitely need a drink, Varric thought.
When Varric returned to his lavish viscount estate, he found an unmarked letter addressed to him. When he opened it up he immediately recognized the handwriting. His heart skipped a beat. It was from Bianca.
Well, shit. I'm going to need a drink too.