Well that went much better than he expected.
"I, um," Varric said, his voice hardly louder than a murmur as he watched the scene unfolding in front of him. "I guess my work here is finished and I'll just...go now, yes." He took an exaggerated step back, then looked to see if they had noticed.
Not a thing. Kaaras and Cassandra seemed to have forgotten his existence entirely. To be honest, though, it wasn't like he expected anything less. When two people were holding each other like that, locked in a kiss that passionate, then doing anything other than forgetting about the rest of the world around them would have just been an insult.
"I hope you two have a good one," Varric added with a chuckle as he began slowly making his way to the stairs, trying to hurry himself but also lingering to make sure he saw as many details as possible for adding into his book later. It was a delicate game he was playing, he of course wanted to get all the information he could but for all his long list of flaws, being a voyeur was not one of them so he had to leave before he saw too much. Not to mention it would be just his luck or him to linger for too long and then all of a sudden Kaaras and Cassandra would remember about him.
"I can't believe I've been so foolish this whole time," he heard Cassandra whispering between their kisses, hardly noticeable to Varric's ears.
"Shh," came Kaaras's reply, his voice so gentle and caring that Varric's heart ached. "There's no need to get so worked up about it. None of us can be perfect in everything."
"You are," Cassandra insisted, dragging him back down for another deep, demanding, yet joyous kiss. She was pouring all of her pent up feelings into the kiss and Varric wondered how in the world some people managed to see anything worthwhile in his romance novels because it was clear to him now that he had been doing even basic things all wrong. If anything he was now getting good practice on what to do and not to do in romance.
Kaaras responded with a chuckle. "Trust me, Cass," he said, holding out his hand, fingers splayed wide as if expecting something. Just then his staff flew into his hand as if jerked by invisible strings and his grip closed around the shaft tightly. "I'm anything but perfect."
Innocuous words but the way he said them...Nope it was time to go, time to go right now or else there was going to be a whole eyeful of stuff Varric absolutely did not want to see whenever he would try to get to sleep later. He quickly hurried down the rest of the stairs on the tips of his toes, opened the door as quietly as he could, and closed it as quietly as he could. He hoped that they were still too wrapped up in each other to notice the noise.
With at least a solid, thick piece of wood between him and the lovers, Varric felt much more comfortable about jogging away. The guard stationed at the end of the corridor gave him a puzzled look, no doubt remembering Varric from ten minutes ago.
"I'm sorry, Varric, but the Inquisitor has asked that no one disturb him right now," the soldier said, the perfect picture of polite, apologetic formality. Varric had a strange, visceral moment where he felt as if he was no longer standing in Skyhold but the Viscount's Keep, no eye emblazoned on the guard's chest but Kirkwall's crest. No matter where he went, from Tevinter all the way to wherever this place was every single one of those guards sounded the same when turning someone down.
Varric opened his mouth but only got that far when Cassandra stepped up from behind him, the force of her glare palpable even without him looking at her. "He will see me," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. There was only one correct answer for her statement, and she was very graciously giving the poor bastard in front of them time to save himself.
Even as blind drunk as she was (making her wash her face in cold water and drink some of it did little to help except getting rid of her slur) Cassandra could still be utterly terrifying. The guard swallowed visibly and somehow seemed to shrink under her glare, even though Varric didn't see him move or cower. Already that was much better than most people he had ever seen standing up under her assault. Still, he saluted smartly. "As you wish, Lady Seeker," he said respectfully. "You may pass."
The distinction was clear, and even Cassandra picked up on it. "My friend comes with me," he said firmly, laying her huge hand on Varric's shoulder.
Maker, this was such a weird alternate reality he had fallen into. Was he in the Fade again? This was certainly bizarre enough for it.
"Yes, Lady Seeker."
"Best not to disturb them now," he told the guard in his best stage whisper. He winked and started walking away as quickly as he could before the guard could get over his confusion and question him further. He had notes to write.
Morrigan's head was killing her.
She curled her lip and glared over the concoction she was waiting to boil over the fire. A mixture of elfroot, prophet's laurel, and crystal grace, along with drops of a lyrium potion that made the steam rising from the surface of the water turn a royal purple color. The fragrance alone made the pounding in her temples recede a little, but the nausea in her stomach still remained. That wouldn't go away until she actually drank the mixture, though.
Stupid, stupid Alistair. Stupid alcohol. Morrigan gritted her teeth together, but that made her head hurt worse and she soon stopped. Her mind was trapped in a foggy haze that no matter how many times she tried to pierce it, brought her nothing. She knew she had been drunk last night and she knew that she had spoken to Alistair, as unusual as that sounded, but she doubted her memories were playing tricks on her. For some odd reason she did indeed go to Alistair, but what in the world they talked about eluded her.
She had to know what they talked about. Yet she would actually have to go talk to Alistair for that and she hated Alistair.
There were bubbles forming on the bottom of the kettle, and the whole thing was now a deep blue. Morrigan reached out and took it off the fire, magic making such mundane things as gloves entirely unnecessary, and poured herself a cup.
Something had definitely happened. Alistair's expression had been insufferably smug when they passed each other this morning, him leaving the kitchen and her entering, and the moment they looked at each other she saw it in his face. Morrigan told herself that she was going to track that idiotic Templar down and beat it out of him if she had to. She was not going to leave him strutting around all prideful at her expense.
Her tea alleviated her headache in an instant and calmed her stomach long enough for her to scarf down a few rolls, and then some of the other inhabitants of Skyhold started to filter in. Morrigan bristled a little at the company and finished her snack as soon as possible and made her exit before the idiots could start staring at her and whispering like the fools they were. Did they think that they were being subtle? That she never noticed their gossip?
She almost ran right into Leliana as she exited the kitchen. The bard stopped just short of hitting her, and there was a brief moment where they stared at each other while their startled brains tried to process what happened. "Oh, good morning, Morrigan," Leliana said, recovering first. "Are you feeling better?"
How in the world did she know about that? "I feel fine," Morrigan snapped, her voice more annoyed than biting.
Leliana smiled, yet her eyes had that knowing look to them that had Morrigan's gut sinking. "That's good," she said, hiding a giggle behind her hand as she stepped delicately around Morrigan and went into the kitchen. "Have a good day."
Ice hit her, and Morrigan clenched her hands into fists. Where in the world was Alistair?! She stomped down the hall, intent on tearing the fortress apart brick by brick until she found that foolish prince and his stupid smile and forced the information out of him.
The raven tapping at his window alerted him to a message for him. Alistair frowned, then his eyebrows shot up as he noticed the seal of the Commander of the Grey stamped into the silver wax holding the envelope together. How could Darrian reply so quickly? He sent that letter only last night!
Alistair opened the window and the raven hopped in, presenting the letter to him with a self-important sqwak, as if demanding praise for a job well-done. He scratched its head and presented it with a small handful of corn, which it set about devouring while he broke the seal and opened the letter.
Dear Alistair,
You know, your letter came at an awfully convenient time for me! Funny enough, I've been on my way to Skyhold for the last few weeks now, and I'm glad to know that you and Morrigan and Leliana are still there. I thought that in light of recent events with the Inquisition that I should grace the place with my presence, if even for a little while. I'm also bringing Nathaniel-you remember Nathaniel, Howe's son? -and Oghren with me, so it can be one big happy reunion! Don't tell anyone though, I wanted my arrival to be a surprise. ;)
Maker, he still doodled those little faces on his letters. The handwriting and words were at once so achingly familiar that Alistair felt his heart give a little thud and he could absolutely understand how Morrigan was feeling. Not that he wanted to bed Darrian, oh Maker no, but to simply see his friend again after so long, the one who stopped the Blight, especially after everything he was seeing the Grey Wardens were doing recently...
He kept reading.
I also want to thank you for the note you included in your letter. I know you did not have to tell me about how Morrigan was feeling, and I might have found out about it anyway, but thank you. I'll fix this immediately when I get there. You're a great friend Alistair, and even though Morrigan will always deny it and never thank you, she's lucky to know you.
Alistair snorted at that. He doubted that Morrigan ever thought such things, even subconsciously, but Darrian had such a wonderful and warm way of putting things that it made his heart fill with little butterflies. Just then he heard swift steps stomping up to his room and quickly shoved the letter in his pocket, knowing that he would not have any good excuse to be holding a letter stamped with the Commander of the Grey.
Just in time, too, as Morrigan suddenly barged in his room without even knocking in an odd repeat of what she had done the night before.
"What happened?" she demanded without any sort of preamble.
What exactly wasn't hard to guess, but Alistair could never resist playing with her. "Nothing much," he replied with a shrug. "I think Leliana's people managed to bribe one of the Orelsian nobles into not attacking Inquisition agents on their land, Cullen's soldiers are blustering their way through by hitting people with swords until they give in, I think Corypheus is-"
"Do not play dumb with me," Morrigan snapped, lightning dancing between her fingertips threateningly as she raised a hand and pointed at him. "You know what I'm talking about."
"Actually, I don't at all," Alistair lied between his teeth, smiling at her. "What are you talking about?"
The fury in her eyes was what warned him. It was an instinct of his that had been honed over the long months of constant travel with her, never fading even after all of these years. His knees dropped, sending him to the floor as if his legs had just been hacked off, except that was precisely what he had planned to do and he barrelled forward in his crouch. He had moved so fast that Morrigan had no time to adjust her aim and the bolt of lightning soared right over his head, striking the far wall of the room with a loud crack and the smell of ozone. Alistair rushed on, tackling Morrigan around her knees with a loud laugh and sending them crashing to the ground.
Using his surprise to his advantage, Alistair quickly cast his Templar powers out, dispelling the other bits of magic Morrigan might have been trying to summon and casting a silence upon her. It was all he dared to do, anything stronger would have hurt her or made her sick, and while the thought was awfully tempting after what she just tried to do Alistair knew what kind of trouble he would land himself into for it. Instead he took advantage of her disorientation to leap to his feet and bolt out the door, taking the stairs three at a time, as fast as he dared as he raced down. Had a Templar ever really gotten the better of Morrigan before? Knowing her upbringing, he doubted it. He doubted Morrigan had any idea what to do in such a case.
Two seconds later, there came a scream of "ALISTAIR!" that chased him down the stairs like a vengeful demon of rage, spitting fire and all.
Now what was that? Varric paused in his writing and looked up, thick brows furrowing as he tried to process what he had just heard. It took a few moments, but after he finally understood-"Oh no," he muttered out loud and shook his head. "Makerspeed, Alistair," he said, going back to his writing. He was not interrupting that one, not on his life. He was occasionally dumb, but he was not suicidal, no matter how his adventures with Hawke painted him.
The Inquisitor too, to be fair. But it seemed here he also got into much less dangerous work at times and more had his hand right on the beating pulse of a beautiful fortress...How people's lives all intertwined with each other, in every way. Like last night...he had never seen anything like that during his time with Hawke.
"Kaaras, please, we'd like to talk to you about something," Cassandra said in earnest as they ascended the steps into Kaaras's room.
The qunari's head tilted up, his eyes frowning in worry. "Is something wrong?" he asked immediately.
Varric very much wanted to just sink into the floor and never be seen again. He was a dwarf, shouldn't stone love him? "Well, more like Seeker with just the resident lovable dwarf tagging along," he clarified with a shrug.
Kaaras's face still frowned, but he turned to Cassandra. "What is it, Cass?" he asked, his voice going noticeably softer as he addressed her.
Her chin was jutting out in that stubborn, yet resolute way of her that was at once both admirable and very mulish at the same time. "I wanted to talk to you about us," she said, her voice still strong and yet there was a thread of misery running through it that had Varric wincing.
Alright nevermind, he would help her out anyway. Especially with the way Kaaras was getting out of his chair like that, all worry and tender care as he reached out and took her hands gently in his own. 'What is it?" he asked.
Varric opened his mouth, but-
"I want you to put your staff inside of me."
He had no idea whether to flee the room or howl with laughter until he died. Kaaras was caught in a comical expression of puzzlement and suspicion, and Varric saw him glance in his direction before turning back to Cassandra. "W-What do you mean?" he asked.
Cassandra turned to Varric as well. "I told you this wouldn't work," she muttered to him.
Yep, he was definitely going to have to help. He cleared his throat and tried to explain.
When did he become a relationship advisor anyway? Certainly not an appointed position. He never offered anything like such a service, it was just Cassandra who had drawn him into such a web as this. Varric sighed a little and tapped his quill against his lip, before continuing to write. Perhaps it was just because he could explain himself far better than most people.
"Oh," Kaaras said, turning back to Cass. "You meant that?"
"Yes, I know, it's a terrible shame," Cassandra groaned, making to turn. "I understand, I should not have-"
That was all he got, as Kaaras caught her arm and pulled her against his chest and wrapping her in his embrace. "You silly, silly thing," he murmured into her hair. "Why would you think I would ever turn you away? I love you and I love learning each new thing about you. How could I not love you and adore your little kinks?"
Cassandra was blushing like red lyrium, putting a hand up to her mouth. "Kaaras, I-I-"
"Shh," Kaaras whispered, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her deeply.
Oh yeah, he was definitely doing something wrong in his Sword and Shield books. He came going to take some good notes and-
There was a crashing noise downstairs. A whole series of them, actually, akin to the sound of a gurn on caffeine trampling through a library. With a groan he got up and began jogging down, hoping he got there before Morrigan actually hurt or killed someone.
It had been two days since that incident, and Morrigan refused to so much as look at him. She treated him like the furniture, something that simply did not exist. Which was fine by Alistair. She could have her petty revenge, he saw nothing wrong with it, especially when he knew that Darrian was coming and she didn't. He still won in the end.
Of course that didn't stop him from always making sure someone was around whenever he went anywhere. He wasn't that stupid, he knew Morrigan was at her deadliest when everyone thought she was acting way she truly felt. After all she sent them all to murder her own mother without even the slightest bit of warning or show of hatred to Flemeth beforehand.
His secret was making him want to giggle like a boy again. Morrigan might have claimed that he never really grew up...and that was mostly right, to be fair. But watching how Morrigan glared at him while pretending that she didn't care in the slightest about what he was hiding was such a rare treat that he was going to enjoy as long as possible.
Not from everyone, of course. Leliana had cornered him an hour after the fight between him and Morrigan had been pulled apart and demanded in that soft way of her what that letter he received said and how the raven managed to sneak past her. Alistair bristled at her nosing, even though he understood that it was her job, but the expression in her eyes was quite frankly terrifying now so he admitted everything while asking (not begging) her to make sure Morrigan never found out. Leliana had just smiled mysteriously at him, but he was pretty certain she agreed since Morrigan never acted any different and Alistair knew that Morrigan could not at all keep a secret to save her life. Kaaras had to know too, and Alistair figured it was best to tell him personally than to wait for him to find out through Leliana.
Which is why when he suddenly heard the blare of trumpets from the guards at the gatehouse, a sound Alistair had never heard before in Skyhold and to be honest he had no idea they even had such a thing here. But he saw right then-and it was so quick that he knew that if he had been looking anywhere else except right at Kaaras then he would have missed it-he watched Kaaras and Leliana exchange a knowing smirk. It hit him like a bucket of cold water, yet right after it filled him with warmth and such a rush of excitement that he almost leaped to his feet. Darrian was here, he was here and he had not seen him in years and Alistair honestly had no idea how he was act. His friend, his Commander and-
"The Warden-Commander of Fereldan, Darrian Tabris!" a herald announced, throwing open the main doors to Skyhold to let the morning sun shine in. It framed his silver armor and backlit him as if he was covered in some sort of halo, as if the Maker had blown a great big kiss on the man right before he walked in.
He heard the gasps all around. It was not a big surprise, the Hero of Fereldan was a legend all across Thedas, on par with Aveline and the Black Fox, a figure to be heard of only in stories and never seen in real life. As if drawn by some sort of string, his head turned to look at Morrigan. She wasn't facing him, which he was very grateful for because she might have tried to kill him again for it, but he could still see her well enough.
He was frozen. He had never, ever seen that expression on her face before, and had no idea she was even capable of feeling such an emotion. Like...he couldn't even explain it properly. It was like she had never seen the sun before, and the opening of the doors had brought the shine of light to her eyes for the first time in her life.
Oh wow that sounded pretty great actually. Where was Varric? He needed to give him that line, it was amazing.
Just then a figure appeared in the door, walking up the stairs. Alistair's eyes did not fully register and see him yet, but the way he walked, his stride, the way his shoulders were held...Alistair recognized that far sooner than the figure's face. It hit him right in the chest, a pang of nostalgia so strong that it unfroze him and he felt himself standing, even though he could barely feel himself moving.
And yet Morrigan moved much sooner, much quicker. A sound broke through the air, something Alistair didn't quite understand at first until he realized that it was a squeal coming from Morrigan of all things and he watched her leap right over the table to sprint towards Darrian. The elf turned, his smile brighter than the sun, and rushed forward to meet her, like how every typical romance story went. Then he scooped her up and swung her around and Alistair swore he heard a giggle coming from her right before the sound was silenced by Darrian's lips against hers.
It would have been so sweet and incredible if it weren't the fact that this was Morrigan and Alistair just was not equipped to process this sort of scene. The Maker Himself coming down to have a chat would have been less surreal.
"Hey there lad," he heard another familiar, growling voice reach his ears that sent another pang going through him. He looked down, realizing he had absolutely missed the entrance of Darrian's companions and now in front of him was a dwarf he could have recognized anywhere.
"Hey Oghren," he said, giving a little smile and a wave.
The dwarf smirked and stroked his beard, as fiery as it had always been, and looked around, his eyes immediately landing on Dagna. "Well hey there little nugglet," he said, sidling over to her with a lecherous smirk Alistair knew well. "I'd say, you got a rump that would look perfect covered in Oghren's special sauce."
There was a moment of shocked, horrified silence. Alistair was pretty sure that Darrian and Morrigan hadn't heard it, though.
Then Sera shrieked with laughter.
Nope, everything was fine.
