One Step Ahead Chapter 9
Varric was not a morning person.
He had plenty of time to reflect on this fact as he forced himself out of his warm bed, wincing as his feet touched the frigid stone floor of the bunkhouse. In the days following the initial chaos, he'd managed to discreetly move some coin around and secure a tiny private room for himself. That hard-ass of a quartermaster had the eyes of an eagle and the nose of a mabari, though, and she hadn't made it easy for him. Haven was under military occupation, and resources were stretched thin as it was. Be that as it may, certain things were no longer negotiable for Varric. Namely, having his own room. And even now that he had his own room, he had none of the luxuries he'd grown accustomed to up in Kirkwall—probably a little too accustomed, if he was being honest. Chief among which, it now seemed, were warm rugs.
A glance out the single, murky window confirmed that dawn had not quite broken over the mountains. The eastern sky was lit a pale orange with a sickly green tint. Today was the day that the Inquisition journeyed out of the mountains and into the Hinterlands. By all accounts, that place was now a lawless free-for-all between apostates, templars, demons, and refugees. Fantastic.
Varric selected a reasonably clean coat hanging over his writing chair, and tugged on some breeches he found lying on the floor. Then he quickly put on his soft leather boots to spare his feet from the cold floor. In hindsight, he should have left them next to the bed.
In a quick and practiced motion, Varric pulled back his hair and tied it into a ponytail, and just like that, he was ready for the day. Varric was a big believer in getting ready for the day before going to bed, and so his packed satchel and his freshly-oiled Bianca both leaned against the wall next to the door. His satchel held only the bare essentials: Bianca's spare bolts and tools, three healing potions, his journal, thirty gold sovereigns, and a change of clothes. Everything else like food and camping supplies he could buy, hunt, or shamelessly mooch. It paid to travel light, especially when you expected to be dodging errant fireballs and arrows.
Varric slung the satchel over his shoulder and picked up Bianca, running his hands along the smooth stock, feeling how it gave way to the fittings of the trigger, each piece of wood and metal curved and shaped with nearly flawless craftsmanship, the machine lovingly maintained despite her many years of battle. Beneath his fingertips, the mechanism hummed with the faintest song of Lyrium, each enchanted piece working in concert to make the machine come alive. Almost immediately, the anxiety for today's excursion began to weaken its grip on his stomach, and he relaxed.
Nothing would go wrong today, not on his watch.
Varric wandered by the apothecary to see if Chuckles was ready yet. The elf liked to spend most of his spare time sleeping—or dreaming, as it were—and Varric had noticed Solas was waking up later and later every day, though the increased sleep hadn't seemed to improve the elf's worsening mood lately.
Solas was nowhere to be found, however. Varric wondered if he'd already headed down to the village gate, or perhaps he'd just overslept. Just to be sure, Varric went up to the bunkhouse where Solas had been staying and pounded at the door.
Nothing.
"Huh. Okay then," Varric muttered, and headed down the path.
Chuckles was not, in fact, at the gate. Nor were the Seeker or Fluffy, either. Varric was starting to get annoyed. Don't tell me I woke up at this unholy hour just to wait on a bunch of laggards!
Varric turned to the gate guard, a baggy-eyed, scruffy young man leaning against a mabari statue, who seemed to be struggling to stay awake. "Hey, have you seen a bald, broody elf come through here?"
The guard yawned expansively, a puff of white fog curling out of his mouth before he answered. "Nope. No elves in the last few hours... 'cept that one squirrely redheaded she-elf."
Varric frowned. "How about Seeker Cassandra or the Knight of Andraste?"
"O'er there." The guard pointed. Varric turned around and spotted Aaron, Cassandra and Josephine just outside of the smithy, which was already clanging loudly, no doubt ruining other people's attempts to sleep. He jogged over to join them.
As he was walking over, Aaron went inside. The bald, bristly blacksmith Harritt was standing inside, and he started to argue with Aaron about something. Cassandra was the first to catch sight of Varric out of the corner of her eye.
"Oh, it's you." Cassandra said irritably, stuffing her hands into her armpits for warmth and returning her attention to Aaron and Harritt, who were now speaking in low voices to each other.
"Good morning to you, too, Seeker. What's going on here?" Varric asked. Cassandra only scoffed.
"Hello, Master Tethras," Josephine said, though she too seemed to be annoyed by something. "There was a problem with locating the weapon recovered from Ser Aaron when he fell from the Breach."
"You don't say." Varric said, turning to eavesdrop on the gruff blacksmith and armored apostate with undisguised fascination, sensing that drama was about to ensue. He was grateful that there were no real walls to the smithy.
"I was told it was here, locked in the armory!" Aaron said disbelievingly. "And now you say you lost it?"
"The bloody thing isn't lost, it's been stolen," said Harritt.
"That doesn't matter. It must be found. I can't leave until it is." Aaron said, just barely audible above the clanging din of the smithy. He began pacing restlessly. "Its name is Lothak. It is the last halberd forged and enchanted by Farajan Fireheart, the only Paragon smith in Dunammar's history! It was wielded by Paragon Vestri during the—"
"Enough!" Cassandra barked out, stomping into the smithy. Varric and Josephine followed close behind. "We don't have time for a pointless history lesson. We have a long day of travel before us. Harritt, just get Aaron an axe or something so we can be on our way."
"Wait!" Aaron said, his voice cracking in desperation. "There... there may be an alternative. I can find who took Lothak, if I hurry."
"The longer we delay, the more demons pour from the sky, and the more people die. We are not going to waste time on this." Cassandra said, her tone brooking no refusal.
"Please." Aaron said, his shoulders slumping. "Lothak is not just a powerful weapon. It's an artifact of dwarven history. I am responsible for it. It must be found, and I am the best one, the only one who can track it down before we go. I can find it and meet you at the Imperial Highway before you can even reach it on horseback."
He seems strangely certain of that, Varric noted. Aaron usually hedged and avoided absolute statements like the plague, but suddenly he's certain when it comes to an obviously impossible feat? Weird.
"And just how do you propose to do that?" the Seeker asked, her eyes narrowing.
"Magic." said Aaron.
"That isn't an answer!" said Cassandra, throwing up her arms in frustration.
Aaron clasped his hands together pleadingly. "It doesn't matter how I do it! I beg you, let me pursue Lothak!"
"You didn't need my permission to disappear before," Cassandra said acidly.
There was a breathless silence. Even the blacksmith's apprentices had stopped their clanging to watch.
"...No. For the sake of peace between us... I will give up Lothak. I just hope you can appreciate what you ask of me." Aaron said, his voice hollow. To Varric, he sounded like someone who had just lost their house and all their belongings. "...It is strange. I knew taking Lothak with me was a risk, but somehow I never visualized myself actually losing it. This is my fault. I should never have brought it here."
Josephine smoothly stepped forward, speaking reassuringly. "I'm sure Sister Leliana's spy network will have no trouble finding whoever suddenly becomes rich from selling the Knight of Andraste's axe. In the interim, we simply need to find you a suitable replacement."
Varric raised an eyebrow. "What's your interest in this, Ambassador? You're not a quartermaster or blacksmith, last I checked. And what were you even doing here? I thought it would have taken a herd of druffalo to drag you out of bed at this uncivilized hour."
Josephine closed her eyes and primly cleared her throat. "I certainly don't intend to make a habit of managing your party's weapons, but... late last night, I was struck with the thought that Ser Aaron should try to embrace his reputation as the Knight sent by Andraste, and not carry arms that signal allegiance to other factions which are not nearly so esteemed. So I came down this morning to ensure he was properly equipped before he left."
Noticing Cassandra's confused frown, Harritt said, "I think what she means is, she doesn't want the Knight of Andraste to be seen carrying around a staff, lookin' like an apostate."
"I wouldn't quite put it like that, but yes," Josephine ceded.
Varric snorted. The blacksmith was more politically savvy than the Seeker, which was both sad and pretty damn funny.
"Is Aaron's apostasy not common knowledge already?" Cassandra asked, surprised.
"Not... as such, no. We are hardly advertising the fact, and Aaron is known as the Knight of Andraste, after all. That implies martial, rather than magical prowess. Revealing that he is actually an apostate mage may come as something of an unwelcome surprise, and cost us allies, or worse." Josephine said, shaking her head. "Aaron being seen as a practicing apostate doesn't fit with the knightly, chivalrous image we are trying to cultivate."
"I am not a knight, and I will not pretend to be one." Aaron said quietly, but firmly.
"Yeah, far be it from me to tell you how to do your job, Ambassador, but won't that just make people more mad when they find out the truth?" Varric asked.
Josephine pursed her lips. "We aren't lying, we're simply not correcting what others may or may not assume. If they have already supported us, they will not be able to back out later without losing face, whereas more potential supporters might have condemned us from the start if they knew." she turned to Aaron, and continued persistently. "And even if you weren't already made a knight by sheer affirmation, we could easily have you knighted. It would be a mere formality. Knight-Commander Cullen could even do it before you leave."
"My title is beside the point. I am a mage. If Lothak is gone, I can make better use of a Lyrium-infused staff than a nonmagical weapon." Aaron said, indicating a table with a row of three identical staves. Each had a mace-like head on one end, and a long spearhead with a crescent-shaped, bladed crosspiece on the other. He took one in his right hand, holding it up and causing a vortex of purple sparks to whirl around it. "This staff is nothing in comparison to Lothak, but it's the closest thing to an actual polearm in this place for some unfathomable—"
At that point, all this magical bullshit and talk of staves suddenly reminded Varric that Solas was not among their little group.
"Hey," Varric interrupted. "Have any of you seen Solas around? I came out here thinking he was with you. He wasn't in his bunk or anywhere in Haven that I've seen. Seeker, did you do something?"
"No," Cassandra said, surprised. Then her eyebrows furrowed. "Why would you assume I did something? I'm not going to suddenly disappear him just because he's an apostate. In case you haven't noticed..." she trailed off and gestured at Aaron.
"Your tolerance of my existence is touching," Aaron said flatly.
"Maybe—maybe he's just off getting breakfast or something," Josephine said hopefully. "He wouldn't just leave without saying a word, would he?"
There was a heavy silence following this statement.
"I'm going to wake Leliana," Cassandra said, brushing past Varric and out of the smithy.
As the sun rose further and further into the sky, no sign of Solas was to be found. It was like he had never even existed. He didn't leave a single possession, nor had he stolen a single thing.
Varric had dealt with disappearances before. Mages disappearing almost always ended up being bad news for everyone involved, and with all the demons that were just set loose on Thedas, the outlook was pretty terrible no matter how you looked at it. Even so, Varric somehow believed that Solas had left for his own reasons. It was simply too neat. Abominations just didn't do tidy disappearances, and someone definitely would have noticed if Solas had been taken against his will. That elf knew how to sling some spells.
Even though Varric believed that Solas was probably fine, his disappearance set everything off-kilter. Cassandra was visibly frustrated and embarrassed that this had happened right under her nose. Leliana was furious that she had missed the signs that he had wanted to leave, and was afraid that his knowledge of Aaron and the Inquisition would fall into the wrong hands. Aaron had grown even more quiet and sullen than before, and he was already sulking from losing his precious dwarven souvenir.
It was like things were falling apart before they could even get a chance to come together. Once again, Varric had the feeling that he was the only one who could actually do something about it. Nobody else was around to step up and unite the fractured party, so the task fell to him. It was a damn uncomfortable feeling, and Varric suddenly sympathized a lot more with the heroes in his novels, and with people like Hawke who had the burden of responsibility placed on their shoulders.
Varric went to see Aaron. He was standing on the pier over the frozen lake, looking out at the mountains. Oddly, he was holding the staff he had grabbed from the smithy upside-down, with the mace-like head planted near his feet and the blade pointing up. It made the weapon seem much more like a spear.
"Hello, Varric." Aaron said tonelessly as Varric approached behind him.
Varric broke out in an involuntary shiver, and it wasn't from the cold. Aaron hadn't moved at all since Varric had spotted him, and there was no way he could have seen Varric approaching. That Aaron somehow knew it was him was more than a little creepy.
"Hi, Aaron. Am I disturbing you?" Varric asked.
Aaron turned to look at him. "No. I was just lost in thought."
The kid was a lot more introspective than Varric had been at twenty, that's for damned sure. That probably came with the years of total isolation in the Deep Roads.
"I've got a question for you," Varric said casually. "You said earlier you could track down your halberd and be waiting for us at the Imperial Highway by the time we got there on horseback. It's just a guess, but I'm assuming that's related to how you somehow appear and disappear?"
Aaron inclined his head affirmatively. "Yes. Was that your question?"
"Uh, no, not exactly. I was wondering, could you find where Solas went?" Varric asked.
Aaron looked back out over the lake. "I could. But I won't. Lothak was stolen from me. But the evidence indicates that Solas chose to leave. He is not my property, nor the Inquisition's. I have no right to foil his escape, just to try to convince him to stay. And I certainly have no right to forcibly conscript him, nor would I try even if I had that power."
Varric smiled thinly, encouraged that Aaron seemed to hold such principles in high regard. "Yeah, it might be easier if the Inquisition could conscript people like the Grey Wardens... but then again, that might just make things a whole lot harder. I can see why feel that way. Still, it bothers me. He didn't even leave a damn note. You must have it even worse. Being forced to wait here and not look for your halberd must be killing you. I'm sorry."
Aaron nodded. "It was an outside chance, honestly. We only discovered it was missing this morning, but Lothak has probably been gone from the armory for several days, which is at the very limit of even my ability to track. I was... hoping, depending on the robbery being more recent. It was foolish. I should know better than to let my wishes cloud my judgement. I ought to plan for the worst case, so it doesn't catch me unawares. I knew all that in theory, but to actually practice it is... another matter entirely. I knew that, too, yet still I made the mistake. Pitiful, isn't it?"
Varric blew out a breath. "Well. I wouldn't know about that. But I do think it's time for us to find the Seeker and set off for the Hinterlands. There are people there that could really use your help, Fluffy. And I think it would do us all some good if we work together to save them."
Aaron held up his marked hand, the clawlike gauntlet shining in the sunlight. "There's nowhere to go but forward," he said distantly, as if talking to himself. Then he looked back to Varric. "We must go on, with or without Solas. But before we do, there is something I need to tell you and Seeker Cassandra. I need to... start planning for the worst case, before it strikes. Go get her and the mounts, and meet me at the ruined archway on the eastern road."
Varric's heart skipped a beat. Holy shit, was this it? Was Aaron finally going to spill his secrets to them?
Varric stammered out an affirmative, and nearly bolted from the pier in his haste to find Cassandra. Maker's breath, he needed to do this quickly, before Aaron got the chance to change his mind.
After getting his gear and finding Cassandra not far inside the Haven gates, Aaron had already vanished when they came back out to go to the stables. The new guard on rotation for the gate had seen Aaron on the pier but hadn't seen him leave, because of course she didn't. Casssandra didn't waste any more time before dragging Varric to the stables.
Once again, Varric was reminded of how much he disliked horses, even the tired, docile old nags the Inquisition had scrounged up on short notice. Dwarves and horses just didn't mix. Sure, he could ride, but it was only because he hated walking long distances only slightly more than riding on horseback.
Cassandra became so impatient with him as he struggled with human-proportioned straps to get himself up in the gray horse's saddle, she lifted him up under his armpits like a child and deposited him on top. It was humiliating, but also kind of impressive. What the hell did they feed Seekers, anyway? Varric wasn't exactly a featherweight.
As soon as they were ready, Varric was following Cassandra as they rode out of Haven. She drove her spotted brown horse to a fast canter, just short of a gallop. Varric couldn't quite coax the same effort out of the gray horse, so he just kept up as best he could.
The stone arch was further from the village than Varric had remembered, and yet there was still no sign of Aaron along the road as they rode.
As urgent as their departure from Haven was, Varric couldn't help but feel an excited sort of hope rising up in him. The cynical voice in his head, which sounded a lot like Fenris today, was telling him that Aaron was probably going to reveal something terrible, or nothing important at all, but it couldn't pierce Varric's optimism. Maybe he just needed something to feel good about after Solas' desertion. Or maybe it was because Aaron sharing confidences was a sign of significant progress, which also happened to be a great way to build bonds in this nascent little group. Or maybe Varric was just excited at the prospect of finally having his curiosity satisfied.
Varric only hoped Cassandra didn't decide to ruin it. Templars and Seekers were just so jumpy around incredibly secretive apostates with inexplicable and terrifying powers.
When at last the arch came within sight, Aaron was standing exactly in the middle before it, surrounded by the still-undisturbed snow from last night's fall. Even after witnessing Aaron disappearing at the Breach with his own eyes, this display of Aaron's apparent teleportation abilities still made Varric's skin prickle. Magic just wasn't supposed to be able to do that.
Aaron held out his unmarked hand in greeting. "Hello Varric, Cassandra. I have watched your progress. We are alone here, for the moment."
"What is it you wanted to tell us?!" Cassandra demanded. Straight to the point, as always.
Aaron clasped his hands in front of him. "It's about the powers I have demonstrated. But before I tell you... I would like you to know that if this secret became widely known, I would be severely impaired, and possibly even harmed as a result. I'm trusting you both with this knowledge. And only you. I don't want to extend my trust to everyone you trust with my secret, and everyone they trust, because then my secret is as good as out. I won't ask you to swear not to tell anyone, but I do ask in return that you to keep it to yourselves, unless it becomes absolutely necessary to tell someone else. Is that fair?"
Varric could practically hear Cassandra's teeth grinding as Aaron slowly, deliberately enunciated his way through that somewhat rehearsed-sounding speech, but she managed to rein in her temper and give a serious nod in response.
"I know how to keep a secret, Fluffy. The trick is not to tell anyone." Varric said, tapping the side of his nose with a smile.
"I know, which is why this is hard for me to do. It still feels like I'm making a terrible mistake in confiding this to you," Aaron said, with the slightest hint of a wry tone. "I have no illusions that this will remain secret forever, but I do want to keep my abilities at an advantage for as long as possible. You see... I was not always a scholar."
Varric just barely caught Cassandra sarcastically mutter "Shocking."
If Aaron heard that, he didn't show it. "Before and since I started my studies, I have used my magical abilities to perform a very specific role. My whole life was defined by that role. My true talent is not in academics, or combat, or even magic. I am, first and foremost, a Watcher. I am one of the greatest scouts and trackers alive, and that is... primarily because... I have the ability to shapeshift into different forms."
Varric had about half a second to wrap his head around this revelation before he stumbled on a note of confusion. Cassandra was faster on the uptake, and asked him about the very question that popped into Varric's mind.
"But you didn't change into something else. You disappeared before, at the Breach!" she said, growing more accusing with every word.
Aaron held up a long finger, and just for a moment he seemed like a professor correcting a belligerent student. "Not so. I actually transformed into a flying swarm of insects. In that case, an exceedingly small one, because of my depleted mana at the time. I also move very fast in that state, so I'm not surprised you didn't see me."
Cassandra's eyes widened in sudden shock. "That buzzing! I heard it, right before the very first time we met! I've fought shape-changers before, I cannot believe I didn't realize you were one before now!"
Aaron tilted his head slightly. "You should give yourself more credit, Seeker Cassandra. You put that connection together quite quickly, and it's a well-known bias that everything seems more obvious with the benefit of hindsight."
"So what does this mean, exactly?" Varric asked. "Why is your shapeshifting such a big secret?"
"Several reasons," Aaron said, counting off on his fingers. "First, keeping my capabilities secret is vital to my ability to track people undetected, and even fight effectively, because surprise is one of the most effective strategies there is. Second, according to your Chantry, shapeshifting is a forbidden practice, alongside blood magic—and I'll reiterate I don't know how to use that—but that still technically means that I am a maleficar."
Cassandra went rigid at the word maleficar. Varric guessed she hadn't heard many people openly confess to being one of those without then trying to kill her. It was pretty understandable reaction, really. Varric didn't really know what to think just yet—he'd actually been friends with apostates, maleficarum, and even an abomination before. Long story short, it hadn't exactly worked out most of the time. Even so, Varric got the feeling Aaron was far closer to the Bethany end of the temperament scale than the Anders end. At least, he hoped like hell that was the case. Then again, Merrill had proved that kindness and good intentions meant absolutely nothing when it came to using dark magic.
"And third," Aaron continued, oblivious to their reactions, "I didn't trust the Inquisition, and I wanted a means to escape if necessary. I still don't completely trust the Inquisition, but we are going to go into battle, and our lives will be in each others' hands. So many things can go wrong. I must trust you two, if no one else."
Varric nodded. "Makes sense. I don't want to accidentally shoot you if you suddenly decide to turn into a wolf, or something."
"Or something," Aaron hedged. Varric got the impression that Aaron was avoiding the topic of what exactly his personal menagerie consisted of. Kid sure liked to play his cards close to his chest, not that there was anything wrong with that.
"So, if you are a shape-changer, then who trained you? Who are you, really?" Cassandra asked, a hungry gleam in her eye.
Varric had to force himself not to slap his forehead in exasperation. That was not the right thing to ask the kid in this situation. He was deliberately making himself vulnerable, and he needed reciprocation and friendship, not further interrogation. Cassandra truly had all the emotional intuition and people skills of a rampaging wyvern.
"I... I can't say." Aaron said, looking like he very badly wanted to flee. "Look, this is going much better than I feared. That's why it's hard for me to even contemplate ruining this good start by saying too much. I know you two aren't idiots, and I know that my history and appearance must seem blatantly suspicious, but... it's a long story, and one I'm not prepared to tell. You can safely assume it's bad and leave it at that."
Holy shit. Apparently Fluffy defaulted to brutal honesty when pressed.
Cassandra didn't even seem angry anymore. She was just staring at him intently, that little wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "I am good at listening to long stories. You can ask Varric about it. I would be willing to hear you out, and I promise not to judge until I heard the whole story from you." she said, sounding both intent and sincere.
Aaron wrung his spidery hands together. "If I told you before... before I had a chance to establish that I'm not evil, you'd never believe me, and it would end very, very badly. Sister Leliana only believed me because she already knew some of it, and she'd seen evidence which I can't reproduce for you. She would be the one to ask, not me. My account would obviously be biased. Untrustworthy."
"Don't worry, Fluffy. I think you deserve the benefit of the doubt," Varric said quickly, before Cassandra could put her foot in her mouth again. "You're here, helping us. We're grateful you shared this secret with us. And hey, it turns out you had really good reasons to keep it to yourself! In the end, it wasn't even that bad of a secret. I mean, so what if you can turn into bugs? It's not the end of the world."
At that, Cassandra barked out a laugh, which rapidly devolved into howling fit of laughter. Varric and Aaron both stared at her in increasing awkwardness as she leaned against the horn of her saddle for support and uncharacteristically laughed herself silly. It was a rich, joyful laugh, and it seemed to catch no one more off guard than Cassandra herself.
Aaron and Varric exchanged a look. Varric hadn't said anything that funny.
Cassandra's laughter died down unevenly as she fought to speak. "A-and to think, I tho-ha-ha-ught you were hiding blood magic, or some sort of apocalyptic power! Hah ha ha! Shapeshifting is weaker than almost every other school of magic, except h-h-healing! And you don't even turn into anything fearsome, you turn into tiny little bugs!"
Aaron went a bit straighter at Cassandra's derision. "I'll thank you not to impugn my abilities until you've seen what I can do with them."
Cassandra's laughing descended into a few fitful giggles, and she waved a hand. "I'm sorry. Hehe... I'm sorry. It's just, these last few days... here we are, at the end of the world, and I never expected to find something funny in all this darkness."
"Oh. It's fine," Aaron said, suddenly sounding a lot less offended. "Though I fail to see the joke."
"Hey, if you can't laugh when the world's gone to hell, you'll never be able to laugh at all!" Varric said cheerily, and by unspoken agreement, they set off, with hardly a trace of the earlier tension that had been between them.
A/N
You have no idea how difficult it was not to leave this chapter on a cliffhanger, as I'd originally intended. I'd like to thank my reviewers for continuing to inspire me with excellent ideas and speculations. They help me create more and better content! Be sure to leave a review with your guesses as to more plot details, or just to tell me how you think I'm doing as a writer. I will continue to reward correct guesses and well-reasoned theories in the form of requests for additional content and/or plot details. Surprise me enough and I might even write up a whole interlude chapter based on something you'd like to see explored in more detail!