Disclaimer: Only the angsty-goodness is mine. BioWare only wishes they had made Varric this deliciously romanceable.
Hawke flew out the door of the pub careening to the left throwing hollow apologies to anyone she bumped into. Her long legs carried her down the stairs past the Foundry District leading her in the direction of the docks. In the back of her mind Hawke knew that she'd left Varric to practically eat her dust since he couldn't cover ground as quickly as she could, but at the moment all she could think about was reaching her sister before those insane dwarves killed her.
Adrenaline and terror were pulsing through her body instantly sobering her as she continued to run down the back stairs to the harbor. Damnit! There were always more stairs! "Bethany, I'm coming," she whispered. As she neared the docks she could see the ships' masts jutting into the air against the darkening sky.
Jumping over the last few stairs she was sprinting when her feet touched ground again. Hawke barely registered the grunt of surprise from the Qunari guard as she passed the compound. Her lithe form rushed down the final set of stairs and she rolled to slow her momentum before hopping up and asking the ferry captain how long it would take him to get her across to the Gallows. He assured her it wouldn't take long and she leaned against a barrel to catch her breath.
Finally realizing that she was alone Hawke tried to locate Varric. She finally saw him as he side-stepped a group of dockhands who were headed home for the evening. He started running when he saw her waiting for him. "I'm sorry I left you behind," she started.
"Hush, we need to see if Sunshine is alright." Varric tried to smile, but the effect was wasted by the obvious worry swirling in his eyes. "Come on, looks like the ferryman is ready to pull anchor." They scrambled aboard the ship and tried not to fidget with how long it was taking to cross the harbor. Had it always taken this long? Hawke couldn't remember, all she could feel was the tight coil of fear in her belly that was threatening to take over, filling her mind with horrible visions of Bethany dying at the hands of milky-eyed dwarves. Varric was staring across the water, working his jaw back and forth, in worry. He fully intended to get to the bottom of whatever this mess was. There would be no sleep for him tonight as he grilled his contacts for information about these demented dwarves.
Before the ship had even tied off, Hawke jumped down and took off across the dock that led to the Gallows heart. Varric tossed a sovereign to the ferry captain as he followed Hawke's example. As he neared the center of the Gallows he heard the ring of metal on metal and reached for Bianca. Hawke was ghosting in and out of the shadows allowing the Templars to do most of the damage for her.
"Bianca's getting lonely!" Varric rained bolts around the melee fighters in suppressing fire and pinned a dwarf that was bearing down on him. Almost instantly, the dwarf collapsed as Hawke backstabbed him and then pirouetted towards another group. She kicked a miasmic flask at a small contingent of archers which allowed the Templars closest to them to hack them down. Hearing the roar of an angry enemy behind her she evaded and popped up ready to rearrange his face only to see a bolt rip through his body and take out a second dwarf behind the first. Dropping into stealth Hawke entered the shadows, trying to ferret out the assassin she knew was there.
An eerie shout echoed through the courtyard, "We must have the blood!" Shit! It was coming from the opposite side of the Gallows. Hawke broke her stealth and erupted out of the shadows, intent on killing anyone in her way – this was going to end tonight. With pinpoint precision she slashed her way through the newest wave of Carta creating a path of destruction as she headed for the assassin who was just out of reach. Through a hole Varric made with bursting arrow she thought she saw her target leave the shadows and head towards the Gallows entrance.
"Varric! Assassin headed for the Circle! He's after Bethany!" Jerking his crossbow around he didn't even have time to sight the shot – just pulled Bianca's trigger and pinned the sneaking bastard into a pillar. He'd caught him in the thigh and he could tell as he closed the distance between them that he'd hit an artery.
Hawke ran over to the dying dwarf with murder in her eyes. "Why? Why are you after us? What's this nonsense about our blood?"
He turned his unsettling eyes to the woman and mumbled through chapped, cracked lips. "He needs it. The blood of the Hawke! He will rise again…with blood." Varric could see he was fading fast; the dwarf's face was already a sickly grey as his own life blood rapidly pooled around his feet.
One of the Templars was standing off to the side. "What's this about, Mistress Hawke? Are you involved in blood magic?" His eyes narrowed at the woman. "Or is your sister?"
Hawke turned on him. "Do you think I have any fucking idea what this is about? I'm trying to find out what they want! They attacked me earlier today spouting the same nonsense and then they came after my sister!" The Templar seemed unconvinced, but said nothing further.
"We will…not…stop until…we have the b-blood…" The assassin was weakening, but he had one final act of defiance in him. Reaching for the arrow holding him against the stone, he yanked it out to further destroy the artery, and crumpled in a heap as his heart pumped the last of the blood in his body out the jagged wound.
"No!" Hawke screamed at the dwarf on the ground. Varric restrained her quickly from doing anything rash. There were too many witnesses, who happened to be Templars that now suspected her of being in league with blood mages. Yeah, best to stop that crazy ship before it left port.
Angry tears fell traitorously from her sapphire eyes as she scanned the Templars for one in particular. "Knight-Captain, do you have news on my sister? Is she safe?"
The man nodded. "The dwarves did not reach her. A few somehow managed to enter the Circle, but they were killed before going very far. The rest," he indicated the small bodies littering the courtyard, "were lying in wait out here." Hawke sighed with relief.
"Thank you. If I'm not to be questioned I would very much like to return home and tell my Mother that Bethany is safe." Cullen inclined his head in allowance.
"Knight-Captain! I must protest heartily with allowing her to leave. They spoke of blood waking something or someone – blood magic, Ser!" Of course, it was the same Templar who'd questioned Hawke's knowledge of the attack.
"Enough! I am the Knight-Captain, not you, and I believe Miss Hawke when she says she has no understanding of these incidents." Chagrined, the outspoken Templar stepped behind Cullen in a show of deference. "You are free to leave. Goodnight, Serah."
"Goodnight." Hawke turned and headed back towards the dock with Varric. The ferry was still there, waiting to take them back, and Varric smirked at how money could so easily foster loyalty. Wearily, they climbed aboard and made themselves comfortable on a pile of sacks in the bow. "Varric, I think I'll stay with you tonight. I'm too tired to walk to Hightown and I'm pretty sure that you will be busy sorting all this out, but I don't want to be alone."
He pulled her against his chest and held her tenderly. "Of course, Beautiful. I'll send a message to your mother. You just get some rest and let me handle everything for you." Her lips moved across his skin, but he couldn't make out the words, they were uttered so quietly. He tilted his head closer to her mouth asking, "What was that, babe?"
Her small body trembled as she sucked in a wobbly breath and spoke a little louder. "If they're Carta we'll have to go back to the Deep Roads." He squeezed his golden eyes shut hoping it would stop the memories from flooding through his mind, but it didn't work. Varric slowly rocked the woman in his arms, trying to soothe her as much as himself.
"I know, Katya, I know," he whispered and his heart broke into a thousand pieces at the anguished sobs coming from his goddess.
By the time they returned to the Hanged Man, Hawke was nearly falling over with exhaustion. She almost face-planted walking through the doors, so Varric scooped her into his arms and carefully made his way to the stairs. Her feeble attempts to protest made him chuckle. He'd carried her before – he may be short, but he was strong and she was tiny enough that it wasn't awkward. Even if it had been more difficult he wouldn't have allowed his woman to walk through a pub of drunken men when she could barely stand. His mama didn't raise a fool – well, not two of them, anyway.
He noticed three of his men hanging outside his suite as he climbed the stairs. "Wait here until I call for you." They nodded as he crossed into his rooms, arms full of sleepy Hawke. Varric gently laid her down on his bed and began to unbuckle her weapons and armor from her small body. When she was clad in her smalls and under tunic he tucked the blankets around her and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. With a sigh at the knowledge that he couldn't join her he turned and told his men to enter. They had work to do.
Varric took a seat at the head of his table as he took care of business. "Cian, take a message to Hawke's mother that she is safe and with me. Then I want you to talk Ilven in the Guild, you know the place, he should have the latest news from Orzammar. Rev, I want you to hit up our contacts in the docks. Pay them whatever they want – I want this info too much to be cheap. That leaves Darktown to you, Gaiven. Remember who to lean on for news, if we mess with the wrong people there, we'll have the Coterie on our asses and I don't have time for their games."
Once they were gone, the merchant prince walked over to the pile of papers on the far table, riffling through the mass of vellum to find any letters from Orzammar. Ancestors, he hated this formal, dry correspondence. Most of the time when he received missives from the thaig he was wont to bury them under his pages of his latest adventure or 'friend fiction' and pretend he never got them when the Guild came asking. Everyone knew he was lying, but what could they do? He was already an exile and he was busy running his own spy network – hell, most of the Guild owed him for favors anyway and they repaid him by giving him more leeway than they should have. It didn't mean that he got off scot free though, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been.
The only time he could recall the Guild and Orzammar having a coronary was over the news that he was in an openly committed relationship to a human. A dalliance was one thing, but dwarves were only allowed to commit to other dwarves. Varric never told Hawke about the visit he had with a prominent member of the Guild. He was an older dwarf, born and raised in Orzammar who came to trade on the surface out of necessity, a dwarf who understood duty and honor, something he was certain Varric didn't. When Terk angrily strode into his suite after their return from the Deep Roads Varric mentally sighed at the tongue lashing he was about to receive.
"Master Terk, please have a seat. Would you care for a drink?"
The older man snorted, glaring at the sight of Tethras heirlooms scattered about a dirty human hovel. He'd always known Varric would be a pain in the ass. "Orzammar received some disturbing news right after your expedition disappeared for three months." Varric kept his face impassive, forcing his body to maintain its relaxed stance. "I'm not sure if you were aware that your brother sent a missive regarding your relationship with your business partner. He was rather adamant that this…arrangement had progressed beyond the acceptable bounds of business with a human."
Varric leaned back thoughtfully adopting an unimpressed air. "And you believed it? As everyone in Kirkwall and Orzammar now knows Bartrand is crazy. Or did you forget that he abandoned his own duties to his family and business commitments?"
Terk shook with rage. "I would have left your ass behind, if it had been me! Any self-respecting dwarf would have done the same, if what your brother said is true. You have responsibilities, Varric, and you will fulfill them!"
"No, Terk, my brother had responsibilities and now I'm stuck cleaning up the mess he left behind. I'm the younger brother and as such, the duty required of me is less." He raised a gloved hand to silence the older man. "Yes, I intend to take over caring for my family, but I am the Head of the clan only in name."
Terk sneered. "Don't be naïve. It doesn't work that way, boy. Or have you forgotten how things played out with Endrin Aeducan's sons? Bhelen sits on the throne now and he's the youngest son."
"Who also married a casteless, did he not?" Varric smirked to see his guest sputter. "Bhelen is all for freeing the dwarves from centuries of tradition."
"Casteless is one thing – she's still a dwarf and her marriage makes any children they sire legitimate. Your…partner is human! Your clan has already been exiled and Bartrand was hoping this venture would bring honor back to your family, restore your standing in Orzammar, and allow you to return to your ancestral home! If you continue this relationship the Assembly could strip the Tethras clan from the Memories. Revoke the Paragon status of your ancestor!"
Varric jumped up and slammed his hands on the table. "Let them! I don't give a damn about Orzammar! I was born up here and I will die up here. The Deep Roads only furthered my desire to never live underground and after everything Hawke and I faced down there I'll be damned if anyone tells me I can't love a human!" Terk stumbled back at his outburst. He had come here hoping to make the impetuous dwarf see reason, but now he wasn't sure he could.
"You don't mean that! You must still have some sense of honor and loyalty –"
"Not right now," Varric interrupted. "I've never really stressed over the idea of a perfect bloodline. That was Bartrand's worry for me, but there isn't an overabundance of dwarven women here or many that are willing to come topside. I probably would have given in to the pressure to marry one of them in a couple of years to please the family, but not after meeting Hawke." He turned his golden eyes to meet the mossy green of his guest. "There was never a chance of marrying anyone after spending three months trapped in tunnels with her, worrying if today would be the day we died at the hands of the darkspawn or of thirst."
Slowly, the older dwarf nodded. He had to admit that Varric made a good point. Terk only knew of life in Orzammar, as most dwarves did, but Varric was one of few to traverse the Deep Roads and survive. The Legion willingly battled the darkspawn to the death so they could restore honor to their families, but a merchant's treasure hunt wasn't the same thing. The only way they could be successful was to survive and by the haunted look on Varric's face there had obviously been times when he hadn't expected them to make it.
Regret filled Terk's words. "Alright, Varric, I will pass along your message to Orzammar. They might not pursue this matter again, but this slap in the face will never be forgotten by the nobles."
Varric's expression was one of grim determination when he spoke again. "I know that and I'm serious about not giving a shit. If they screw with Hawke or me…" He trailed off and Terk nodded tersely at the threat before stalking out of his suite to pen the unhappy news to the thaig.
Shaking his head sadly at the memory, he skimmed through the letters in his hands. Nope, all trivial, bureaucratic nonsense. Who cared about golems anyway? No matter how many they made they would always be outnumbered by the darkspawn. The dwarven way of life underground was nearing an end and he was sad that so few of them understood that. Tossing the letters in the fire he laid his arm across the wall and rested his head on his leather duster.
The only thing he knew for certain right now was that after three years of trying to forget about those months underground, he and Hawke would have to return and face their demons. Demons that were actually tainted creatures who spread death and pestilence and turned lovely female humans into bloated monstrosities. Varric shivered involuntarily, breathing shallowly in and out of his mouth, as flashes of that horrible day when Hawke was at the mercy of the darkspawn flicked across his mind.
"Ancestors, please hear me. If you care about me at all…don't let anything happen to her. Take me instead, but not her." He let the tears fall then, not caring that they stained his beloved duster in the dim light of his suite.