They were almost there and he knew it, as they made the trip to the Wounded Coast he was preparing for the last of their needs. Even as they climbed a few bits of debris, in his mind he was going over manifests and lists for everything that would be arriving, how quickly they could be out. He figured another week of odd jobs and they'd be over what they needed, a general estimation but he was good at judging what was in a purse by it weight. There was also all the things Kerrigan had bought, a new sword and better under padding for Aveline, that garnet necklace she bought for Bethany that she swore was enchanted and that she didn't get it because Bethany kept staring at it whenever they passed the shop on their way home. They both knew she was lying. There was also that inscribed harness she found for him, he adjusted it slightly with an appreciation for it's weight, the girl had a good eye he had to give her that, but how she was going to afford to get them out there with all the money she was handing out in equipment, he was unsure. He had almost decided just how much hard cheese they would need to take when Kerrigan's voice broke his train of thought.

"So tell me about yourself, Varric." Hawke said, a playful curiosity on her face as they walked along the coast. She loved to strike up idle conversation, and he had found himself the target of her wit more often, not that he was complaining. It was enjoyable to speak to some one who could appreciate his fine sense of humor.

"I'm not all that interesting, Hawke," Varric responded, a large and easy grin on his lips as he adjusted his lapels for emphasis, "just a dashing, handsome rogue with a silvertongue and a soft-side."

"Bullshit," Kerrigan said, cutting him off with well placed sarcasm.

"True, but I've been working on Shadow's Glory for some time now, wanted to see if anyone would buy the soft-side part." He laughed and she joined him, before he looked around at the path ahead. Adjusting Bianca with one hand, he felt anticipation rising as he kept his finger on Bianca's release. Despite the enjoyable company they were on the wounded coast, never knew who, or what, would show up

"It wouldn't do to stain your stoic reputation." There was something soft in that, hiding under the playful tone that had his eyebrows rising.

"Messere, you wound me." He clutched his chest for emphasis, before they both laughed, loud and carefree as always. There was a slight wind picking up with the rising tide, and he caught looking out at it more than once, as if she had time to admire the view. They continued to pick their way around rocks that found their way onto the main path, Aveline in front of them looking as menacing and scary as ever, and Bethany behind who was laughing softly at their banter.

"Don't all storybook heroes have tragic back stories?" She asked, turning her head to look at him as they continued their path over the sand and rock of the coastline.

"Ah, tricky Hawke," He waved a finger at her, as if admonishing a child, but she only smirked in response, "but I'm no hero."

"The point still stands Varric, a dwarf as handsome and dashing as you must have broken some hearts, created some stirs." Her voice dropped to a sensual whisper, and by the Ancestors he hadn't expected it. The smirk was dropped in favor of a playful pout, and Varric looked away quickly, feeling an odd-heat rolling underneath his skin.

He knew Hawke was a lot of things, but he had never suspected she was able to turn to flirtation into a weapon. "You'll have to do a lot better than that to find out this rogue's backstory." He said, fingers flicked dismissively for emphasis. It was a lie, if she had kept up that act much longer he may in fact have caved, luckily he was an excellent liar.

They had taken a side path and seeing nothing of value headed back meeting up with the main path, Aveline and Bethany taking up their positions once more. The place was strangely quiet. Usually they would be up to their neck in raiders, but it appeared to be everyone's day off.

"Is it tragic?" She asked after they had fallen back into their normal rhythm, and the tone was soft with concern, another surprise.

"Beautiful, it'll have you weeping into your ale and decrying the Maker.." His voice deep with false-pain, pinching his brow and casting meaningful eyes at her.

"Also bullshit." Hawke retorted, the same old smirk on her lips.

"Could be, but that's half the fun isn't it?" He gave her a lecherous smirk and she laughed then, full and loud, which must have given away their position for all of them became away of the thunder of footsteps on the dirt headed in their direction. Hawke quickly readied her bow as Varric pulled the release catch on Bianca, watching the two pronged-tension system spring into life. "Another time, Hawke, it appears we have company."

"Good thing too, I was getting bored listening to you bullshit." She pulled an arrow from the quiver, the move graceful with the finesse of practice. She set it against the string and brought her arm back to her cheek like she had a million times.

Varric moved at the same moment, six paces to the right and one up, his legs set apart as he held Bianca low, waiting for the first sign of their attackers. "You'll never get tired of my bullshit, Hawke."

"You never know, one of these days I might force you to tell me the truth." Hawke shot back, not letting her eyes leave the choke point in front of her, waiting for the first sign of movement.

"Shut up, both of you!" Aveline yelled, smacking her blade against her shield for emphasis, "Here they come."

There was a lot of fighting after that. One group of raiders turned into two, and then Tal'Vashoth joined the fray as they finished picking over bodies of the second wave of raiders. The battle was filled with flashes of fire, arrows raining down, swords and shields clashing, and the sound of growling mabari. The flurry of battle was it's own drug, and he enjoyed it fully as they called taunts back at each other, bolstered each other, and helped a comrade in arms should there be a need. More than once he saw Bethany and Hawke, back to back laughing as Bethany would cast elemental furry in one direction while Hawke aimed arrows down field with rapid precision. They were a well made team. Bianca took plenty of lives amongst the brawl, and afterward they fanned out to find anything of use while Aveline kept guard.

They stripped the corpses of anything of value, Varric shaking his head at the senseless death. Senseless death was Hawke's business, if there weren't people needing killing she would be in quite the pickle. . . But it seemed stupid to throw themselves at her. "Fighting us is suicide." Varric said, turning with surprise when he heard Hawke laughing.

"I just wish some one would tell them that." Hawke shook her head, looking down at the bodies with something almost melancholy on her face. She kicked over one of the bodies and pulled a few silvers out of his pocket.

"I'm just glad they found you, and not a caravan." Aveline said, the harsh tone in her voice making it obvious she held no pity for these men. Hawke simply shook her head before finishing her work as Bethany came over to hand her what she managed to find, and to show off the staff she found on their alchemist.

"Well, I believe that is it, we may is well head back." Hawke said, looking around at the dust and ocean, the sound of waves on the rocks and the wind picking up.

"One of these days, Hawke, they are going to run out of bandits." Varric observed, holstering Bianca before handing over the few silvers and a necklace he pulled off one of the men. "And then what will you do?"

"Oh, I don't know Varric." Kerrigan said, a wide grin on her lips as she looked down to him, "Maybe I'll pick up story telling."

"Your tongue is worse than any lash, Serrah." He exclaimed, fingers pressing to his chest as he staggered, his jester like over acting making her burst once more into laughter.

Kerrigan patted his shoulder apologetically, "Don't worry Varric, I'll never take your work away from you."

"Good, for you would be terrible at it." He retorted, and she laughed as they walked back the way they had come. He had noticed the entire return trip that Hawke was in better spirits than usual, her smile bright and infectious as she included everyone in her little quips and jabs. She even had Aveline laughing due to a joke she made at the expense of one of her fellow guardsman. When they came into high town she was not only smiling, but practically swaggering. The swing of her hips had always been noticeable, but now it was overstated to the point of distraction and he had to brandish Bianca at more than one staring street-man.

"You look like the dragon that ate the elf, Hawke." He said as they began the trek back to lowtown. Aveline had already departed for the barracks, leaving him with the two sisters for the evening walk from Hightown.

"You mean cat don't you?" Kerrigan countered, stretching idly as they entered the high town market.

"If you believe yourself closer to a cat than a dragon, you are selling yourself short." Varric said, and felt himself grinning with the peal of laughter that left her. Many women, especially the high-born, laughed like tinkling bells or twittering birds, but Hawke laughed a real laugh, it was a loud and boisterous thing, like a dirty barroom ditty. "So out with it Hawke, you're practically glowing."

Hawke seemed to contemplate answering for a moment, and he almost forced the issue before her grin broke wide and he knew she'd caved. "That was it, the last bit of the money we need."

"It can't be, you've been only working for two weeks." He played false, acting surprised. He'd known she was close, but didn't know how she had done it. Hawke was grinning and it lit up her eyes, victorious at having gotten together what was a small fortune for a refugee in so small a time. He felt suspicion raising the hair on the back of his neck, but kept his laid back mask as he spoke. "When are you going to tell Bartrand?"

"Tomorrow, like you said it's a small window." Hawke responded, with all the confidence she normally carried magnified by that dumb grin on her face.

"I can't believe you got it gathered up so quickly, sister." Bethany said, with the same awe he had seen many people placing on Hawke recently, as if she was some miracle worker. Maybe she was, he had seen her achieve things in a week that would have taken many people months, but even Andraste couldn't make gold rain from the sky.

"Well, we've been doing a lot of jobs, and I took on a few side things for Athenril." She said it with ease, but Varric's ears picked up the lie. She couldn't possibly have been working for Athenri. She hadn't been out of his sight for more than a six hour period over the last week, as she had taken him on every mission they had gone on. He felt his shoulders tensing as she continued to speak. "I'm just glad I managed to get the new chainmail for Aveline before we leave, have you seen what they expect her to wear in the barracks?"

"I know! It's no wonder they lose so many guardsman." Bethany said, laughing conspiratorially as they began to enter into lowtown proper. The girls kept talking back and forth as they headed toward Gamlen's, discussing the odds and ends of their new found friends in Kirkwall, the new armaments Hawke had acquired, and the beautiful staff Bethany found. They passed the Hanged Man, which is where Varric would usually part company, but he made an excuse of seeing them home and kept walking.

When they got to Gamlen's rat infested hole of a home, he had made up his mind. A question was pricking at his brain and he had to know before this venture was cemented. Bethany had practically rushed up the stairs the moment they were in sight, obviously wanting to get out of the sweat and grime of the day, thank the Ancestors for small favors.

"Hawke, a word." She stopped at the sound of him speaking, her foot on the top stair. She turned and came down to where he stood in the old slums square, a confused look in her eye.

"Just one? You're known for a lot of things Varric, but brevity is not amongst them." Wiseass Hawke, she always had a line.

He smirked and shook his head. "Brevity doesn't make for good stories, Hawke." He saw her smile at that and took it as his cue to go on, "I was wondering if you'd come with me to the Hanged Man. Since this time tomorrow we could be in the deep roads where the ale will be worse, I thought it best we do this now."

Hawke scoffed, "Worse than the Hanged Man? I don't believe it."

"Believe it beautiful, it is the worst stuff ever invented." Varric said, laughing as he watched Hawke considering for a moment.

"I'd love to join you. Let me go get Bethany and then we'll go." She turned and he reached out, his leather covered fingers wrapping around her wrist to stop her. He had never realized how small her wrists were as his fingers could curl into a fist and have the space left for that thin wrist.

She went rigid at the touch, before relaxing and he let go when she turned to face him once more. "Not Bethany, just you. I want to discuss some things about the excavation before we go."

Hawke frowned, but nodded after a moment. "Alright, let me just let them know I'll be home late."

The walk to the Hanged Man was done mostly in silence, only small bits of conversation to break the raising tension. He had never asked Hawke out alone before, and could feel how guarded she was in her body language. She kept her hand near the small dagger she kept at her back, her steps measured and eyes forward. She also left her coin purse back with Bethany save for a small amount of spending money for drinks, he could tell by the sound when she walked. He wondered for a moment if it was that she was worried he would betray her, a foolish notion but he could understand it. When you come from a country where the greatest general betrays the king and you are forced to watch your countrymen die. . .well you may have a hard time trusting anyone.

They were almost to the Hanged Man when he finally spoke up, "Just where did you get all the coin, Hawke?"

"The same way as you. Taking unscrupulous jobs and killing bandits for profit." She gave him a smirk, but it faded when the look he gave her was stern.

He stopped just outside the door, believing this conversation best somewhere outside the rumor mill, and gazed at her with the most critical eye he had ever leveled at her. "Bethany and the others may buy you working for Athenril on the side, but I know for a fact that you have to sleep. You've traipsed me about every rotten thieves den, cursed forest, and dragon infested pit within two days travel in this past week."

"What's your point?" She was becoming defensive, crossing her arms across her chest as she spoke, body language tense.

This was bad; however, Varric was not one to be deterred by the possibility of being smacked for his curiosity. "The point is that there is no way you could have gotten together this much capital in two weeks just by doing the jobs you said you were." She didn't bite, instead she tensed up even further, and he pressed. "You can lie to Bethany, you can lie to your mother, hell you can lie to the damn viscount for all I care, but if we're going to be partners you can't lie to me. Even with the fifty sovereigns it's nothing without my word. Now tell me the truth."

"You wouldn't dare." Her voice was a low hiss, eyes narrowing as he saw for the first time what made her enemies quake in their boots.

Varric didn't waver, and instead leveled his golden and amber eyes at her with a similar intensity, "Tell me the truth, Hawke. I won't tell anyone else, and this will remain between us as partners, but if that's dirty money you're going to be hurting a lot more than yourself." His voice lost it's edge as he spoke, concern leaking through.

That seemed to get through to her, her shoulders sagging as she let out the air she'd been holding, "I. . .sold some things."

He felt his chest tighten, this wasn't what he expected. "What things, Hawke?"

He saw the guilt as she rubbed a hand across the back of her neck, eyes averted. "Just some personal things that I didn't need anymore. Things from Lothering, or sentimental things I…" She paused, looking away from him entirely as if some sound was catching her attention, "I just really didn't need anymore." She shifted her standing before turning those blue-green eyes on him, a nervous smile in place of her usual smirk.

In that moment he realized just how young she was, this edge of innocence he had seen in Bethany but never in her, she was always too strong, too smartass to show it. "Beautiful, why didn't you just say you needed more time? You never had to do that."

"Like you said, it's a small window." She tried to give him a confident smile, but he crossed his arms and she caved. "I need to get Bethany out of Lowtown, quickly. There was a templar in the slums yesterday asking specifically about a dark haired apostate. They know, and they are going to find her if I don't find something to protect us, and soon."

Varric softened his expression, crossing his arms as he looked up to her, "You should have told me, beautiful, I can buy you some time."

"Not enough." Her expression was far off for a moment, a frown on her tugging her lips before she shook her head and it disappeared. "Anyway it's done, I have the gold already. We may as well take advantage of it." The confidence had come back as she smirked at him, "Besides, I don't trust fifty sovereigns alone with Uncle Gamlen."

Varric chuckled, shaking his head at the prospect," I wouldn't trust your Uncle with two coppers. He'd some how turn it into a kingdom's worth of debt." He pushed open the door to the Hanged Man, feeling Hawke shadowing him as he stepped within. The warmth and smell of ale assaulted them as the made their way inside. He nodded to Norah, but stopped Hawke as she made way to their usual table. "No no, tonight we drink the good stuff. Come on, tonight we dine in style." He spread his arms to emphasis the grandeur of their evening as he led her up towards his palatial suite. If they were going to drink before going to the darkspawn infested holes deep in the earth, he wasn't drinking Hanged Man ale.

They settled around the table, Hawke resting with her feet on the chair next to her, her Mabari lounging on the carpets at the end of the long mahogany and granite table that was an heirloom from Orzammar that he bought off of one of the surfacers that came through years ago. He pulled out a dusty old bottle of wine, cleaning the edge before popping the wax. He also grabbed two dark goblets, Antivan they had told him, pouring the deep red liquid before raising his glass.

"A toast!" He said, moving with a flair of his coat into the chair opposite her own. The bottle placed between them as she raised her glass.

"What are we toasting? Health, good fortune, safe travels?" Her wine was carefully placed in her hand and raised toward him.

"Piss on that Hawke, let's do a real toast." He stood up on his chair, towering himself into the small space and Hawke rose as well, raising her glass as he belted loud enough for those below to hear, "May the tunnels be free of darkspawn, easily traveled, and fucking full to the brim of gold."

"Here, here!" She echoed as he bowed before clinking their glasses together and quickly downing the entire glass, Hawke mirroring him before they both thumped down their glasses before breaking into laughter.

Several hours later they had finished the bottle of wine and were once again drinking Hanged Man ale, the ale that made you wish you were hanging. They had laughed, talked about the deep roads, and now Hawke was leaning forward in her chair, a slight flush to her cheeks and eyes half lidded.

"Do you have a thing for stray kittens, Hawke?" Varric asked, chuckling as he watched Kerrigan cross her arms defensively and that made her sway slightly in her seat.

"I like dogs, Varric. Or hadn't you noticed?" She tipped her head towards Wrex, who was laying at the end of their table. The mabari looked up hearing his name, wagging his tail before settling back down.

"I don't know, you seem to be picking up strays left and right these days. Cute little kittens to brooding ones," He leaned back in his chair, his pint carefully balanced on his knee as Kerrigan shot him a look.

"I took you on, and you seem to be the greatest stray of them all." She retorted before emptying her flagon for the n-tenth time

"Oh no, Hawke, you've got it all wrong. You're the little hungry kitten I couldn't say no to." He smirked at her offence, lacing his fingers across his chest casually, as he always did when observing, "Why do you think I'm putting so much on the line to take you with me into the Deep Roads?"

"Because people who cross my path have a tendency of ending up dead?" She retorted, giving him the smirk he knew her so well for, even if it was slightly more relaxed with alcohol.

"That too, what's to say a cat's just for looking at?" It didn't have the sarcasm he had intended, but she laughed anyway. Maybe he could attribute that to the alcohol too.

"What's your point, Varric? As much as I love bullshitting with you, we'll be here all night with that approach."

"I'm just worried, you seem to have surrounded yourself with a lot of people who need you to do things no person can." He contemplated the ale, slightly turning the glass before taking a swig, as he set the flagon back he caught Hawke staring at him.

"I miss your meaning Varric."

He sighed before continuing, "They want you to fix them, to solve their great mysteries, and they want you. I've seen quite a few eyes made at you recently, and many of them are not the sort of look friends give."

"Varric - " She exclaimed, a scandalized expression on her face, "you're jealous!"

"Hawke-" He said, the tone admonishing and warning at the same time, but all she did was laugh.

"Don't worry, you're the only dwarf I care for." She leaned across the table, grinning at him solicitously, but in return all he did was narrow his eyes at her.

"I'm the only dwarf you know." He corrected

"Same difference." She said with a shrug, ordering another flagon before sitting back. "Are you concerned I can't handle it?"

"You can handle things fine, beautiful, I know it better than most. . ." He frowned, this wasn't going the way he had intended at all. He scratched his beardless chin, before looking over to her and the sincerity in his eyes dropped her smirk. "I just don't want to see you getting hurt, alright?"

She smiled then, soft and sincere. "Thank you, Varric." Her voice was gentle, and he felt something inside his old armor soften, "I promise I'll be careful."

"And if any of them hurt you, Bianca and I'll go sort them out." It had meant to be a joke, but he had forgotten to smirk, the gentle baritone giving a hint of softness he hadn't intended consciously. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably, what was coming over him? Trying to express his concern he was saying a lot more than he should be. He must have had too much wine, or ale, or both. His eyes looked at her from the edge of his periphery and found her still smiling, the same soft and sweet look, but her eyes were averted as well, looking down into her empty pint. He had to look away again, it wasn't fair, he hated when women gave him those little-mabari eyes.

"Bianca'd do that for me?" There was something in her voice, a slight quiver of feeling and he forced himself not to look.

"What can I say," Varric said, shrugging as he stared into the fire his throat suddenly feeling dry, "she likes you."

"I'm quite fond of her too." Her voice was a whisper. It was as if this was a different Hawke, one who didn't throw away everything with humor. He steeled himself away from it, thankful when Norah came to distract her with another pint of ale. He was going to have to be much more careful from now on, she was a sly one. Part of him had wanted to reach across the table then, to hold her hand and reassure her, but he kept himself still. There was no time for that now, and no time for her to take it in a way he didn't intend. Still he felt his protective streak rise around her. He could only pray to the Stone that his hopes for this excavation would be correct.

"Are you alright?" Her voice broke his concentration, and he smiled wide for her.

"Of course, beautiful." He finished his flagon as she was sipping at hers and leaned across the table, "Now how about a story, I'd love to get your opinion on the latest chapter of the Shadow's Glory."

She laughed, sweet and easy as he watched the red in her cheeks grow brighter, she lazed back in the chair. "Alright bard, weave your stories. It'd better be good."

"Would I ever let you down, beautiful?" He said, bowing slightly in his seat.

"You haven't yet," she admitted with a laugh, "and that is certainly something."

They drank heavily that night, laughing and talking until the wee hours. Varric ended up insisting that she not attempt lowtown drunk before dawn, and gave up his bed. She had tried to protest, but he was insistent that she didn't have a choice. He sent a note, informing Bethany to meet them at the Hanged Man at noon, before deciding to get some sleep himself. When he came to his door he saw Hawke, sprawled out still in her armor. Her arms curled under her head with her red hair trying to blend with his sheets. She hadn't even gotten beneath the covers. He shook his head, chuckling softly. She was such a kid.

He came over, unbuttoning his jacket and throwing it over her, hoping she wouldn't put one of her shoulder guards through it in the night. He was rather fond of that coat. He watched her small fingers curl around the outside edge before he walked back over to the table. The choice was the floor with the mabari or falling asleep in a chair. Luckily, due to many meetings with the merchant's guild that he hadn't simply skipped, he knew how to fall asleep in a chair. He pulled the chair outward and settled into it's tall backed and looming air, resting backward with his legs popped up on the table.

He looked over to Hawke, watching as she rolled over, curling the coat over her with small mumbles. "Next time beautiful, you can sleep in the uncomfortable chair." He said with a grumble, before closing his eyes and waiting for dreamless sleep to take him.