22 Cloudreach - 9:31 Dragon
Varric has read my first entry and was pleased... until he read what I wrote about him. He said a point of writing is to give things "context" and insinuated that I gave very little context to Bianca or his chest hair.
Everyone is a critic.
He really is not as bad as I made him out to be. He is very entertaining, savvy and a good shot with Bianca. He has been a good friend to Bethany and me. Truth be told, I don't know what I would do without him. I had no plan before hearing about Bartrand's expedition, and certainly no plan after Bartrand turned us down. I also wouldn't have had any coin if Varric hadn't pinned that cutpurse to the wall. So what if he's hairy? Dwarves are supposed to be hairy. And Bianca is a beautiful and magnificent crossbow; a true wonder of craftsmanship and labor of love.
We have almost no other friends in Kirkwall, really. None of the other Ferelden refugees are from Lothering. The "acquaintances" we made in Athenril's smuggling ring are hardly the friendly type, not that I would have had anything to do with them in the first place, if not for my dear Uncle. Everyone Mother knew from before is nobility, so she cannot exactly introduce us into her old social circles.
We do have one other friend, Aveline, who came with us from Ferelden. We met her and her husband, Wesley whilst fleeing Lothering. He sadly contracted the Taint and died along the way, not long after Carver died. Aveline came with us, and has become like family now. She is a strong and proud warrior-type. I respect her, but she is making a name for herself in the Kirkwall City Guard now. I doubt her associating with me or Bethany would make things easier on her. Bethany is an apostate like Father, and with our forced year of smuggling activities… well, Aveline doesn't need us corrupting her. And I don't need her turning us in. Not that she would, but I don't want her to have to think about it.
Gamlen is muttering about someone needing to cook dinner. I'll take that as my cue to head to The Hanged Man with Bethany. Neither Mother or Gamlen is a good cook; besides, we have little else but cabbage in the larder.
Varric smiled as he read over Hawke's latest journal entry. "Much better, and I like the part about Bianca," he said, practically purring the crossbow's name as he petted it in his lap.
Hawke grinned as Varric slipped some coppers across the table to her. She dropped them in her coin purse, where they made a satisfying clink.
"I'm not above taking requests if you're paying me to write. Do you have anything else you want me to write about? Maybe something mean about Bartrand? Praise for The Hanged Man? Your prowess at Wicked Grace?" Hawke asked.
"Now, now," Varric demurred, "I didn't tell you to lie or exaggerate. I just pushed you to put things in perspective when you write. When you become famous and want to publish your autobiography, you'll thank me for all the work I saved you."
Hawke snorted into her wine cup as she took a drink. Wine never tastes sweeter than when it is paid for with someone else's coin, she thought.
Bethany placed her hand on Varric's and patted it, smiling at him. "I think it's a lovely idea, Varric, and I'm glad you are encouraging her. I remember when I was little, she used to come home and tell Carver and me grand tales of her adventures that day, and we'd be in awe of our big sister," she said, smiling now at Hawke. "She's a more than a fair storyteller. And you're right, writing things down will be good for her." Bethany pulled the journal in front of her and leafed through the first few filled pages.
Hawke sighed, looking from her Varric to sister. "Fine, fine, I'll continue. You've convinced me of the virtues of scribing my thoughts," she said with an air of feigned exasperation. Her expression sharpened as she looked back at Varric. "But you promised to put me on your tab as long as I keep writing. If the drinks stop flowing, the ink stops flowing." She shook the nearly empty flagon, the dregs sloshing noisily to punctuate her demand.
Varric laughed and gestured at a nearby serving girl, Norah, to bring some more wine. "Hawke," he said, leaning back in his chair looking completely unconcerned, "not only do you drink the cheapest wine here watered down, you will soon be buying me drinks for putting you on to this idea. Just you wait."
He smiled knowingly at Hawke, hands behind his head. Just got to keep on her to continue writing for a couple of weeks, and then it'll become such a habit that she won't be able to live without it, he mused to himself. And I'll get to use all the best bits in my stories. The audience won't see it coming.
Hawke shook her head at the far-off expression on Varric's face, and turned to gossip with Bethany about Gamlen.