Disclaimer: I own nothing that has been copyrighted! I simply play with them for the amusement of myself and others for no profit. I originally started this story a few years ago, but I didn't have anything really solid for this story to go on, but it ended up not going where I wanted it. So I'm rewriting it. I assure you I HAVE NOT abandoned this story. Just life got in the way for awhile as it tends to do. Constructive criticism is appreciated as always, burns will be disregarded except for a brief hello from a certain crossbow...Please enjoy reading, there will be trigger warnings for some dark stuff in later chapters. Happy reading.

Heaven Sent

Chapter One

Everything fucking hurt. Equally. The cold I could feel seemed to sharpen every bone-deep ache pulsing through me. Every single nerve was howling in protest. It took all the strength I had to resist actually howling, to keep it contained in my head. With how my throat throbbed angrily, along with everything else, the sound would only shred it further. The whimpers I couldn't quite help from eking out weren't doing much to dissuade that idea either. It'd been quite awhile since I'd had to cope with pain this intense. It's only understandable that the mask of fortitude I'd once had to keep the agony from showing was sorely lacking. Understandable, but not acceptable.

The noise I was making must've drawn the attention of a few good Samaritans, as I could hear the murmur of voices and crunching footsteps. The pain I was in drained me so that I was barely conscious, so I couldn't quite make out the words they used, but their voices were familiar...so achingly familiar. But it felt like if I were to make the attempt to string any coherent thought together, my skull would split open.

Suddenly, a scent teased my nostrils, merely a whisper on a freezing wind, but that was all it needed to ingrain itself in my mind. Well-worn leather, old books, and sandalwood. Absolutely intoxicating, it smelled like heaven. Like home.

The nearly overwhelming urge to wallow in that scent, to cover myself so completely in it I couldn't remember my own, clouded my mind enough that I made the mistake of moving my head to follow it. One of the biggest I could make, it felt like. Ah well, hindsight is always twenty-twenty, right?

At that point, the keening wail that fell out of me, was the crack in the wall holding the actual howling back. Said wall proceeded to collapse like a house of cards, and I couldn't seem to cope with the pain any longer.

Beneath the disgraceful racket I was making, I could hear those voices grow closer, louder...and now they were frantic. Great, just what I needed, more noise to add to my aching head. I swear if they start screaming like frightened ninnies, I'll phase just to rip their irritating little throats out. Maybe that'd grant some peace and quiet. ..okay maybe I'm being a bit harsh but I'm the one who apparently got run over by a goddamn street cleaner, so I can be as fucking irrational as I want!

Then that glorious scent became stronger too… if it's one of the voices I'll forgive it. As I came around more, I could hear the voices all around me. They sounded confused, shocked even. And even more important, I could pinpoint which voice made that scent. As well as the scents of the other voices. There was a strong voice, the farthest from me. It was female, stern, commanding; and smelled like what I imagined molten amber would, lightened by the faintest hint of vanilla. It was very pleasant actually. The second farthest was crisper, a mix of pine and sage with an over tone of icy mint, and by his voice was definitely a male. His voice was soothing, in a way that might lull one to sleep. Confidant, cajoling, but intelligent and experienced.

That left the two scents closest to me. One was sweet and floral, lavender and honeysuckle. As natural as a field of wildflowers, and just as peaceful. Her voice was the same: calm, peaceful, and sweetly feminine. The other was the one I wanted though, masculine and soothing, but not as the other man. This one was a voice that captured your attention, enthralling and thrilling, a smooth baritone rumble wrapped in a roughness that sent a more pleasant type of shiver down my aching spine. Like honeyed whiskey and crushed velvet covered in sifting sand and pure delicious sin.

He sounded like every dream I'd ever had of safety and peace was found in every word that fell from his lips.

As I continued to come around I noticed more than just the pain screeching across my nerves. What I could register as cold was now being warmed away by a shining light behind my eyes. And with the cold, the pain was starting to follow, which made it easier to stop howling and screaming. Then a large, warm, and gentle hand covered in what I thought was a rather buttery leather, was cupping my jaw and moving my head so my neck was straight, probably to brace it against any damage. My neck and head did not agree with him.

I let out one last groan, as the last of the pain was smoothed away, leaving a crippling exhaustion that made any thought of opening my eyes rather difficult. But it didn't hinder my hearing, and with no pain, I could finally understand the words that beautiful voice was saying.

"Okay, normally when I make women groan like that, it's for less painful reasons."

Exhaustion forgotten, I opened my eyes in shock, finally able to put a name to that voice; and now a face too apparently. An exceedingly handsome face at that. An exceedingly handsome face that I shouldn't be able to see in the fucking flesh!

It was dark, that much I could tell, and there was snow on the ground. There were two full moons above us, not that I needed the light to see. My condition ensured my night vision was excellent. His copper-gold hair, darkened to a brownish red beneath the night sky, gleamed in the moonlight, pulled half up-half down in his signature style. The games didn't do the texture justice, it looked soft and lustrous, well cared for. His jaw looked to be carved from stone (ha, cause dwarf), coated in a meticulously even length of stubble. The part of me not shitting itself at the impossibility of this man being physically in front of me couldn't help but wonder what that stubble would feel like, especially with those perfectly kissable lips in the middle of all of it. From my peripherals I could see his brown and gray leather coat, as well as the crimson red tunic. The center of that vision of masculinity was a bared portion of his chest, toned pectoral muscles covered with lightly tanned skin and coated with his famed pelt of chest hair, just slightly darker than the hair on his head. Okay I admit, I'm ogling, but Isabela was so damn right about no woman being able to resist him. He's handsome, he knows it, and he flaunts it. It fit his character perfectly after all, 'when one has flaws – and everyone does – be flashy.' He would need to maintain his finely crafted image of the finest bullshitter this side of Thedas.

"My eyes are up here, Gorgeous, though I don't blame you for getting lost." His laugh was fucking sinful. If I weren't sure I'd die from never hearing it again, I'd insist it be made illegal. Then again he'd probably corner the black market demographic of lonely women in Thedas and make a killing. If there was such a thing.

Blushing all the way, I bring my eyes up to his...and my world changed.

As bourbon brown eyes, darkened to a shade of brandy in the dark, seared their mark onto my very soul, I felt a warmth in my chest building like a wildfire. And I felt it. Finally felt it; the sense of belonging I'd heard about from other Weres, a feeling of home and safety I hadn't had since before The Labs. The sudden jolt of connection that zapped through me like lightening, as if a piece that had always been severed was finally reconnected again. I found him! My bond, my imprint. My Mate!

I couldn't help but smile, overjoyed, feeling tears trickle down my face from the emotion. Varric Tethras was my Mate and I'd found him!

Then I remembered Varric Tethras still carried a massive goddamn torch for Bianca. He was still in love with someone else.

Just like that, all the joy and peace that had started to settle into my bones was ripped out of me, leaving a hollow ache inside me. A tsunami of grief threatened to drag me into The Mourning, before I remembered something important. They weren't allowed within the same continent as each other. There communications were limited to letters, and only occasional meet-ups, otherwise Carta assassins would be on him like stink on shit. She wasn't able to leave her scent on him regularly, wasn't able to claim him regularly. Hell she was married to someone else for Christ's sake. And he just called me Gorgeous. I wasn't Rejected yet.

Still, the ache of Pining, was maddening; like a hand settled around my heart, waiting to crush it. I would wait though. I could be patient. I've waited this long, he was worth it. He always was and would be.

Unable to contain the howl burning to leave my chest, I let it out. Long, low, and wanting. Waiting. Pining. For him. I could see the shock and sharp spike of fear in his face as it blanched, smell it in how his now essential scent soured with lemons. Even then, it only made him more intoxicating, though my Mate shouldn't fear me. I couldn't hurt him, even if I wanted to.

I had to soothe it, even though I could feel exhaustion reasserting itself.

"Don't be afraid. I'd never hurt you." I couldn't help the weak smirk tugging at my lips, "It'd be a crime to deny this world your stories, Varric. Or your chest hair."

His bark of laughter was the last thing I heard as I passed out.

/

Varric POV

"The Templars went to war to force mages back into their circles, which the mages would never agree to. What solution could Divine Justinia have offered when all sides rejected compromise?"

Some things never change. Brings back memories. I'm still getting used to the elf being on this side of the argument and not being Dalish. Then again Daisy never had much to contribute on the Circle side of things. Being in the middle of these arguments was never very entertaining though. At least, not after the first ten times. There's only so much you can talk about on the 'mages versus Templars' topic before you're just beating a dead horse, with roughly the same outcome: all that effort and no one getting anywhere. One thing was clear to me though.

I was getting way too old for this shit.

"Look Chuckles, Seeker, we've been hoofing it all day, we're just a mile away from what could be considered civilization in the middle of Thedas' asscrack. Can we please shelve this debate for another day? You're making me homesick."

Cassandra's groan of disgust and Solas' glare were almost worth tramping around the Hinterlands, fulfilling every sodding scavenger hunt we were given by what had to be every single refugee in the Crossroads. Now don't get me wrong, some of them were pretty legitimate concerns, the rogue mages and Templars in the area being chief among them...but finding an escaped druffalo? Finding a stolen ring? Trying to stop a mage and templar brother from killing themselves, only to have to kill them anyway? Personally, I just think Bubbles was scared to follow Mother Giselle's advice to confront the clerics crying out for her blood in Val Royaux. Put that way, I can't really blame her.

Speaking of Bubbles, she was trying very hard to hide her giggling. She wasn't succeeding. That in itself was worth the seemingly endless checklist she dragged us on. Well maybe dragged was a bit harsh. You just couldn't stay angry at this woman. With her wide eyed innocence of the world outside her clan and her gentle heart, she reminded me very much of Daisy. Maybe that's why I tried a little harder to make her laugh, though at least unlike Daisy, she picked up the jokes a lot quicker. I've seen what happens to heroes. They lose a part of themselves in their story, sometimes more than one depending on the story. She's a good kid, and something clenches inside me when I imagine how she'll be by the end of this. Hopefully that end will be sooner rather than later, and not as costly. Though I wouldn't really bet on it.

Suddenly, there was a sharp, keening coming from within the tree line on our right. We all snapped to attention, weapons at the ready. "Something tells me that's not a baby druffalo. You sense anything Chuckles?"

The elf shook his head, frowning in curious concentration. "I sense a tear in the Veil, only not like the other rifts we've encountered. This one feels...different though I cannot ascertain how from this far away. Perhaps we should investigate?"

The women nodded their agreement, while I just readied Bianca as we moved slowly deeper into the trees.

After awhile, we came close enough to see a red glow, not like red lyrium, thank Andraste's sacred knickers, the last thing the Inquisition needed was that shit this close to Haven. No this was a deeper red, and it didn't really sing. More a pleasant, nonverbal humming, just audible beneath the screams. "Please tell me you all are hearing that too?"

Bubbles looked at me, all the softness of her features sharpening to a dagger's edge as she gripped her staff even tighter. That was a quirk Daisy didn't quite master until after Kirkwall went up in flames the first time: the battle-ready look of a leader preparing to deal out some major ass kicking. Come to think of it, it was a look Hawke wore very often, even as far back as their first fight together. "I hear it too. And to think I thought it might've been Cassandra trying to ease the tension with a song. Must be more wore out than I thought."

Even Chuckles couldn't hold back a smile at that, although no one was quite relaxed enough to start laughing. Just as Cassandra was going to retort though, we finally stumbled on the source of the wailing...and consequently the humming as well.

The moment we came to a clearing, we saw a pulsing rift color of freshly spilt blood, throbbing in the air like a heartbeat. And below it was a tiny sprawled from, the howls coming from them almost drowning out the humming. Before the Herald could even think to close it with her mark however, the strange rift collapsed in on itself with a sputtering spark. Well at least there were no more sodding demons added to this fun-filled day.

Bubbles and Chuckles were the first ones at the person's side, due to their considerably longer legs, followed by the Seeker and I. As the Herald started what I can only assume is a healing spell, I finally made it next to her, reaching to try to straighten the body of what I now knew to be a woman.

'A rather gorgeous woman' I couldn't help but think as I looked down at her.

Though night had long since fallen, I could still see her features rather well due to the moonlight. Her skin was so fair, I almost couldn't tell it apart from the snow beneath her. Her long, dark brown tresses were splayed around her head, curling in the snow like ivy. Her full, voluptuous figure was clad in strange clothing; a long sleeved blouse made of a wispy, ocean blue fabric that clung to her heaving breasts sinfully, no doubt sopping wet from the snow. Chancing a glance further down, her trousers seemed similarly soaked, but they looked to be a heavier material and looked almost black in the shadow of the trees around us. How tight they seemed against her wide hips and thick thighs, was just a passive observation. My fingers certainly did not itch to touch and squeeze. And there was definitely no warmth curling in my gut at the gentle, soft looking rise of her lower stomach exposed by her shirt riding up. Or her belly button, which was definitely not cute. Or that she looked to only be taller than me by a few inches overall. Nope. I was not the sort of dwarf to drool over an injured woman. Just an author's keen eye for detail...

Shaking myself out of my not-ogling, my hand finally made contact with the woman's warm opposite cheek, straightening her head and neck as gently as I could, and her face was finally able to be seen. And damn, she was a sight.

She a small, button nose, with a gentle upturn, and even though it was scrunched up in pain, it was unbearably cute. I couldn't bring myself to deny that. Her face was sweetly heart-shaped, with a defined but delicate jawline, leading to a pointed chin. Her lips, still pale and parted with pain, were full and plush and had a faintly pink tint to them still, which made an idle thought of how they'd look blushed and kiss-bruised flash through my brain. Behind them were gleaming teeth, one of her incisors gently crooked, as if grew in slightly leaning away from its twin. Not enough to be a detraction, but enough to give an innocent charm to the rest of her face. Not that it was lacking that, with her high cheekbones above full cheeks, and prominent forehead. Though her eyes were squeezed tightly closed, I could see her eyelashes were long and thick, and above them eyebrows that were boldly arched, all of it sealing seamlessly into a cutely pretty face.

Maker's ass, alright yes she was beautiful, you'd have to be both blind and stupid to not see it. I obviously was neither.

Her groan of pain brought me back to the task at hand, not noticing when Solas and Cassandra moved closer to where the red rift had been, nor the conversation that had been taking place between them. When Bubbles looked at me, her face screwed up in concern and exertion as she poured more of her magic into healing what had to be internal damage since there wasn't any sign of blood on the ground...well I couldn't resist.

"Okay, normally when I make women groan like that, it's for less painful reasons."

At my comment, the woman jolted as if shocked, and her eyes snapped open.

Her eyes were huge, luminous molten gold pools that seemed to glow in the dim light around us. They swept over me. She recognized me, which didn't make sense because I'd for damn sure remember eyes like that. As was inevitable, those eyes found themselves locked on my chest. Her eyes seemed to glow even more, her pupils widening and her luscious little mouth went slack. I can't deny I let her look, nor can I deny that I felt a surge of male pride stiffen my spine. I could feel the knowing smirk slowly spread over my face as I laughed.

"My eyes are up here, Gorgeous, though I don't blame you for getting lost." Her eyes widened as her face took on a rosy hue. It had to be the cutest blush I'd ever seen that also stoked the fire slowly burning in my gut. I decided then and there I would see it as often as I could get away with. Then her eyes met mine, and the world fell away.

I didn't want to move. I was being sucked into a sea of gold and I felt myself wanting to drown. It wasn't rational, I know, Andraste's tits I didn't even know her name! But I wanted to. I wanted to know all I could, to know why I was feeling this way for a complete and total stranger. But most of all I wanted those eyes to keep looking at me. My hand was still on her face, and I could feel her relax at our continued stare off. And then she smiled. Sweet Maker her smile. Her whole face lit up, her eyes shining with what I could only assume were happy tears, her every pore exuding a radiant joy that made me smile back even through my shock. She looked like someone whose every dream just came true, the answer to every question dropped into her lap. And she was staring straight at me.

But after a moment, it vanished. Like she'd been slapped, the joy leaked from her face to be replaced with the most profound grief I'd ever seen, freezing her eyes from molten to solid. As if her heart had been crushed right in her chest. My thumb moved without my knowledge to wipe her tears away, or at least tried to, they kept coming even faster now. A low whine started from her, not unlike a kicked dog, building and building as the color receded from her face, leaving her almost translucent, paler than she was before. Then determination warmed her eyes once again, not like before but still liquid. A strength I'd only seen in a handful of others. The resolve to fight.

Suddenly, she let loose a howl that almost had me looking around for the wolf that made it, if I hadn't seen it come from her lips. Holy shit, it was spine-tingling! The only way I could think to describe it, was call waiting for an answer. A very lonely call. Besides the thought 'what the actual fuck?', going through my brain, I was able to recognize a very sad longing echoing through that howl. It still startled the shit out of me, leaving out the fact it came from a person and not an animal.

She must've sensed something of my thoughts, because as I continued to look down at her, an earnest expression took over her face. The golden glow faded from her eyes, leaving them a still pretty hazel.

"Don't be afraid. I'd never hurt you." She pleaded with me in a sultry sweet voice. Maker every inch of her was soft and gentle and sweet. Except her piercing eyes; eyes maintaining that honesty as well as the sadness, even though her mouth turned into a smirk and her voice started to lose its strength. "It'd be a crime to deny this world your stories, Varric. Or your chest hair."

I couldn't help the laugh that burst out of me, even as she fell limp in unconsciousness. How did she know my name? And why did I feel this aching need in me to hear it on her lips again?

"Varric? Varric!"

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I looked up at the Herald, feeling dazed and very confused. And worried. Bubbles seemed to share my thoughts exactly, "Do you know this woman, Varric?"

"No. Not in the least. Though I plan on fixing that as soon as she wakes up." I meant that to be a joke, but I couldn't manage enough levity in my voice for it. Cassandra apparently, didn't agree with my plan one bit.

"You want to take her to Haven?! How do we know she know she isn't a spy? Either from the Chantry or from whoever caused the Breach?" Her face looked as thunderous as her voice sounded. As wore out as I suddenly felt, I was not in the mood for pointless paranoia. If she did mean the Inquisition harm, even though she really did not seem the type so far, creepy howling aside, then Curly and Nightingale would be able to suss it out of her. Though sneaking into the cells beneath Haven's Chantry would not be ideal...Maker, what did this woman do to me?!

"I hardly believe that is necessary Cassandra. She was barely able to wake long enough to speak, let alone do anything nefarious. Besides, I sense no magic in her, and by the looks of her, has never trained to use a weapon. We should bring her to Haven, if only to monitor her recovery. She's still not fully healed yet."

I looked at the exhausted elf across from me noting how she was leaning on her staff, even sitting. She used more than she should've and it still wasn't enough. "Damn, how much more healing does she need? What's wrong with her?"

Her wide, ice blue eyes were sad as she looked at me, and I felt a ball of cold dread thump somewhere around my stomach. "The damage is very old Varric. Years old, but it was never healed properly. There's something wrong with her blood as well. Not completely human. She isn't possessed, as I said there's not a drop of magic in her," she said this with a pointed glare at Cassandra, making the warrior frown and look away. "But as it is...she's missing small bits of her organs. Her spleen, her liver, her kidneys...even parts of her intestines show heavy scar tissue. Like two pieces of ripped fabric torn further and then stitched together. Bits of muscle in her arms and legs are gone too, and from what I can tell...she should be taller than this Varric. Something or someone stunted her growth. But I couldn't for the life of me tell you what. Countless broken bones, some have even been shattered, all to heal improperly. Some of the joints were saved, like her wrists and ankles, but not all of them. I can't imagine what hell this poor woman has gone through."

By the end of her assessment, Cassandra to say the least had nothing at all to say. Even Solas seemed quieter than usual. I on the other hand…

"Well that settles it. She's coming to Haven. Even if I have to carry her myself. I'll be damned if I'll leave her out here in the snow." I just couldn't, not after hearing all that. Plus, I still had to find out how she knew my name…the need to hear it again not withstanding.

"Of course, Varric, I don't think that was in any doubt. The carrying as well I suspect, as I'm having trouble carrying myself at the moment." As if she'd summoned him, Chuckles came to her side to help her to her feet, keeping an arm around her waist. Even from the angle I had I could see her face turn as red as her hair. I couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer adorableness of the scene. I slid my hands underneath the unconscious siren, when my fingers brushed against something buried in the snow. As I lifted her up, I could see it was some type of knapsack, but made in a coarser fabric than what her clothes seemed to be made of. It was an olive green color and just as soaked as she was, with buttoned up pockets all over the front of it with straps that reminded me of Bianca's holster on my back, but twice as heavy.

"Hey Seeker! Mind getting the lady's luggage? I might be a bit meaty in the arms, but I'm no cart-mule." At the mention of possible evidence, whether for or against her 'suspect' was unclear, Cassandra stormed towards us and yanked the pack out of my grip rather rudely I might add. She spent a good minute looking the thing over, before slinging it over her shoulder with a scoff of disgust. "We will settle this back at Haven, dwarf. And mind your hands, since you seem to be so taken with her."

"Hey! I'll have you know I'm a perfect gentleman...in public." Whether or not she meant it as a joke, I had to make it one…though I'm not sure the rest of me got the memo. Feeling her in my arms, the soft give of her thigh beneath the fabric there, her slim shoulders, feeling her breath against my neck where her head was slumped against...any red-blooded male would have thoughts. And holy hell, the sheer heat this woman gave off, it was almost feverish. Such a comfort at the base of the Frostbacks, it warmed me to the bone.

As we finished the trek back to Haven, I strung together the perfect script to convince the others to let me be the one to watch over her. I had paperwork to catch up on, correspondence with my editor, parsing through which Guild bullshit to ignore...plus if they kept her stuff locked up until she could talk to them, there was no way she'd pose any threat. I was gonna get my answers, one way or another. This was one ball of trouble I couldn't bring myself to walk away from. And it's been a good bit since anyone's intrigued me like this. Consider my interest officially peaked. I looked down at her sweet face, looking so innocent in sleep, and I thought to myself, 'Well...at least this bit of trouble's a treat to look at.'