"Is there nowhere we can speak in private?" the Seeker asked, peevishly. Around us, the respectable patrons of the Hanged Man were doing their best impression of people who weren't eavesdropping.
"I have rooms upstairs, Seeker. If I'd known I'd be having visitors, I'd have cleaned up the place." I said, watching the Seeker's frown deepen. She was going to wind up stuck that way, one day.
"How can I resist such a… tempting offer?" I said loudly, standing and smirking at the Seeker. "Sam! A round for the bar, to celebrate!" Our watchers turned back to their drinks, their gambling, and their dancing girls.
The look of poorly stifled rage on the Seeker's face didn't bode well for me, but she had never been a harbinger of good fortune for me, anyways.
"Coming, Seeker?" I headed towards the back stairs, trusting that the Seeker would follow me, if only so she could kick my ass in private.
Opening my door, I ushered the Seeker through with a little bow. Her face contorted strangely, as I followed her through and lit the lamps.
Politely, I ignored her expression of disbelief, though it was always a fulfilling feeling to have one over the Seeker. The suite I'd claimed for my own was opulent. Plush carpets, ornate furniture, the works.
"Well then. You going to tell me what all this is about?" I crossed the room and sprawled in the armchair behind my desk. The Seeker took about a half second to adjust her face back to its usual disdain, before shunning the other chair in favour of towering over my desk.
"I have no patience for your usual… impudence." The Seeker said.
I was pretty sure I could guess what word she'd omitted in favour of impudence. So of course I slouched further in my armchair, and watched as the Seeker's eyes flicked down to the open neck of my shirt.
"My eyes are up here, Seeker."
"Must you always be so... " she gestured wordlessly at my tunic.
"Roguishly handsome? Chiseled and manly? Virile?" I suggested.
The Seeker muttered something unflattering about my ancestors in Nevarran, and sat down.
"Enough of your foolishness, Varric." In the light thrown by the lamps, the Seeker's face was even sharper hewn than usual. "The Inquisition has sent me here because of this… and some rumours."
The Seeker pulled a slim box, about the size of a cigar box, made of metal, and placed it on my desk. I reached over and flipped open the lid. Heavier than I'd expected, and when I saw the small idol inside, I was confused.
"Bringing me presents, Seeker?" The painted idol of Andraste sat in its case, inoffensive.
The Seeker grunted in exasperation.
"Do you never think before you talk, dwarf?"
I dragged the box closer. Still only a small, crude idol of Andraste.
It called to me, somewhere in the back of my mind I could hear the faintest whisper of a song.
"Seeker, tell me this isn't what I think it is."
"I cannot. It is the only one of its kind we have found whole. Idols of Andraste, carved from red lyrium."
"Fuck." I sat back in my chair, and pushed the idol back to the Seeker. "Why the hell did you bring that with you?"
"As I said, it is the only one we have found whole. Dagna has taken a sample of it, but requires more information." The Seeker closed the box's lid, and the singing stopped. "Though she did create the box, a slimmer version of traditional dwarven lyrium containers."
A wry smile crossed the Seeker's face, and I was pretty sure I didn't like it.
"She says it ought to prevent us from the effects of the red lyrium. Probaby."
"Ancestors." I trusted Dagna, insofar as you can trust anyone that smart. But red lyrium had done worse to smarter people. "And we're supposed to just carry that thing around with us?"
"I will keep it, if the idol bothers you that much, Varric." the Seeker said. "I did not forget the circumstances of our first meeting."
"Ever replace that copy of Tale of the Champion? You know, the one with the big dagger through it?" I asked.
"I...did not. As you well know, Varric." the Seeker shifted in her seat, and if I didn't know better, I would've said she was a little embarrassed. "Regardless. The Inquisitor has requested we find the source of the red lyrium, how they're creating this protective coating, and why."
"Big job." Too big for two people.
"The information we've managed to gather suggests there is a lead here in Kirkwall. Dagna is certain the protective coating could only be the work of a mage." The Seeker looked around her, "We are to find whether there is any mage with Venatori sympathies in the city. Past that, it is up to our own discretion, and whether it merits additional agents from the Inquisition."
I sighed. Talk about your thankless jobs. Seemed not much had changed, since I'd left the Inquisition behind. The Inquisitor was still aiming for patron saint of lost causes. And bees, if Sera had a say.
The Seeker tucked the box back into a pocket of her suit, and stood up. "I will find you tomorrow, Varric. Early."
"You'll find me asleep, then." I retorted.
The Seeker shot me a scathing look, one no doubt reserved for layabouts who weren't up at the crack of dawn every day.
"Early, Varric. I have no desire to stay in this city longer than needed." With that, the Seeker turned on her heel and left.
Brusque, as always. Cassandra had no tact. Nice to see some things never changed, I thought. Well, if I was going to spend however long with one surly Seeker, hunting down some crazed assholes who thought dealing with red lyrium was a brilliant idea, I damn well wasn't going to spend my last free night worrying about it all.
Back in the Hanged Man's main room, the crowd greeted me with a roar. Amazing what friendship free drinks will buy you. Picking up a drink of my own, I settled in to enjoy the raucous joy of music and dance. One last night before everything went to shit.