"Varric by the Maker, stop!" Cassandra growls, nerves frayed to the breaking point.
Varric whistles a few more lines of that infernal song, and smirks.
Cassandra can feel her nails digging into her palms, and quietly reminds herself that if she kills Varric, Swords and Shields will end.
There are only so many times she can clean her gun, or sharpen her knives. She's even sharpened Varric's knives, but he won't let her touch Bianca. Which is incredibly unfair, the gun is a fine piece of machinery, bleeding edge technology.
Inaction has never suited her well, Cassandra admits.
The newest Swords and Shields beckons, but Varric is in the room and the idea of reading a romance novel in front of him is a little appalling. Even if it is one of his.
Actually. Particularly if it is one of his.
Not that Varric's unaware of her passion for his books.
Frowning at herself, Cassandra puts away her whetstone and stalks over to her side of the bed, where the newest Swords and Shields is stashed. By the Maker, she's being foolish and it's infuriating.
Sending a glare towards Varric's back, Cassandra settles onto the bed and opens her book.
"Good book, Seeker?" Varric asks, raising a sardonic eyebrow.
"Terrible," Cassandra said flatly.
"You know, I was really worried about the third chapter," Varric said "When the Knight-Captain has to face off against-"
"VARRIC!" Cassandra could feel her teeth grinding together. Always he had to taunt. To needle.
Three days of forced confinement had frayed both their tempers. There was no way to escape one another, no privacy to speak of.
Varric retreated into an almost sulky silence, as Cassandra returned to her book.
Three days and no word from Josephine or Leliana. Cassandra stared at her page, not seeing any words. Three days and no idea what the Inquisition was doing, how they were coping. Stuck in a small room, incapable of action and left to wait while others did the work.
The entire thing set Cassandra's teeth on edge.
Tap tap tap
Taking a deep breath, Cassandra tried to focus again on her book.
Tap tap tap
Exhaling sharply through her nose, Cassandra grit her teeth and told herself to ignore it.
Tap tap tap
"VARRIC!"
"Seeker," Varric's serene response is just so typically him it makes Cassandra's blood boil.
"Stop that infernal tapping!" Cassandra said, struggling to keep from shouting.
Tap
"You little shit!"
Cassandra launches herself off the bed, towards the table where Varric sat, pen in hand. With a clatter, the pen fell to the table as Varric leapt out of his chair and tried to put space between them.
"Now, now Seeker I-" Varric began.
The phone rang. As one, Cassandra and Varric turned their gaze towards the phone. It rang again, shrilly.
"Should we answer it?" Varric asks, staring at the phone.
"Only Parker and the front desk have this number," Cassandra said, walking towards the phone. "Hello?"
Behind her, Varric rolls his eyes.
"Yes. No I do not- Of course," Cassandra said.
No woman on her honeymoon would sound so brusque. Not that he knew anything about that, Varric thought.
Setting the receiver down with a sharp click, Cassandra turns on her heel and scowls.
"Management would like to send us a congratulatory gift basket," Cassandra said, glowering at the phone.
"A gift basket," Varric gave the room an expressive look. "That's going to be terrible!"
"You are far too pleased about this."
Varric shrugs, and grins. "Given what was in the drawers of this place? Can't wait to see what they put in a gift basket."
Cassandra snorts, and sits back down on the bed.
"It cannot possibly be worse."
"We hope," Varric points out.
Someone rapped smartly on the door. With a sigh, Cassandra heaved herself off the bed and beckoned to Varric.
"If you think I'm facing this alone, you're mistaken."
"Five seconds ago you were about to rip my throat out. Forgive me if I'm not willing to back you up," Varric says dryly.
"Varric…" Cassandra exhales sharply, "I am-"
Whoever it was knocked again, louder and somehow managing to sound insolent.
Cassandra and Varric's eyes met, sharing a look of commiseration that cut through some of their earlier tension.
Grimacing, Varric thrusts his hand into the bedside table, fishes about for Josephine's letter.
"Before you open that, Seeker? Catch!" Varric tosses the wedding ring to Cassandra.
Sliding the man's ring onto his finger, Varric wonders how Ruffles and Nightingale know what size ring he wore. The metal felt stiff and heavy against his skin, a cold, unfamiliar presence.
Looking up, Varric catches a strange expression as it crosses Cassandra's face. With a sharp gesture, she jams the ring onto her finger and curls her hand into a fist.
Cassandra flings the door open on a young, bored looking man bearing a large and gaudy basket.
Without changing his expression, the young man brandishes the basket, and steps back.
"On behalf of the Happy Hearts Hideaway Motel, we thank you for choosing us and offer you this gift basket," he intones "We wish you happiness in your new lives together."
"Thanks," Varric said, around the enormous basket Cassandra forced into his hands.
"There's a song," the man said, holding out a hand, "I can sing it if you want?"
"Tip the man, Cass," Varric said, spitting a bit of tissue paper out of his mouth.
"No, thank you. We do not need the song," Cassandra said, shooting Varric a dark look on her way to her bag.
"Felicitations," the man drawls, accepting the bill Cassandra passed him.
"Thank you," Cassandra said curtly, shutting the door firmly in his face.
Varric can feel her eyes on him as he lugs the gift basket to the table.
"Cass?"
"We're supposed to be married; I couldn't call you Seeker Pentaghast!" The basket hit the table with a thump, and something in its depths buzzes.
"Andraste preserve us," Cassandra says, looking at the basket in horror.
"I don't think Andraste had a hand in this, Seeker," Varric says.
They both stare at the basket, contents obscured by the deep red cellophane wrapper.
"We should stop that buzzing. Whatever it is," Cassandra sighs.
"Would you like to do the honours, Seeker?" Varric sweeps a mocking bow, and gestures towards the basket.
Lip curling, Cassandra pulls a knife from her pocket and flicks it open. Slicing the plastic, she peels it away from the basket and sighs heavily.
"More hearts. How original," Varric quipps, pulling out a box emblazoned with a woman wearing nothing but underwear made of heart shaped candy.
"Find the buzzing thing, Varric. Not new wardrobe options," Cassandra says.
"This is a new side of you, Seeker. I'm not sure how I feel about it," Varric complains, rummaging through their still vibrating gift basket.
"Found it!" Triumphantly pulling a bullet vibrator out from the basket, Varric and Cassandra watch the egg shaped device bob around on its cord. "Wish I hadn't though."
Heaving a sigh, Cassandra reaches over and turns the vibrator off.
"I hate this place."
"At least the food's good, Seeker," Varric said. "Speaking of, room service? I'm hungry enough to eat these!"
Varric waggles the box of edible panties, enjoying Cassandra's look of disgust.
"Appalling. We should get food before you lose what's left of your dignity," Cassandra grimaces.
Outside the wind howls, rain dashes itself against the windows, and the occasional crack of thunder echoes through their room. Sitting together on the bed, a half eaten tray of sandwiches between them and a bottle of wine on the bedside table, the atmosphere was companionable. A refreshing change from the antagonism of the day.
"So now I have two Orlesian fan clubs, both of whom are intent on exterminating the other to become the only official Varric Tethras Appreciation Society!" Varric finished, laughing.
Cassandra's expression of disbelief was probably warranted, Varric thought. Though given all the weird shit that happened to them, it was a little hurtful.
"Seriously. Apparently it's becoming a diplomatic nightmare. Ruffles keeps looking at me sadly whenever a new chapter of Hard in Hightown comes out," Varric said.
"That explains the chocolates," Cassandra says thoughtfully. "We had wondered if...ah."
"If what?" Varric asks.
"If it had been the Inquisitor," Cassandra says.
"Is that why they...oh. Wow." Varric says.
Cassandra looks distinctly uncomfortable, and the glass of wine in her hand may've been terrible but it didn't deserve the look she was giving it.
Maybe the Inquisitor and Ruffles' relationship was a sore spot, Varric wondered. Though with the Seeker's passion for… passion... Understanding dawned.
"You're sad because it was me and not the Inquisitor who sent Ruffles the chocolates," Varric said "Seeker, you are a marshmallow."
"I am no such thing, Varric!" Cassandra snaps.
"You are! Cassandra Portia Filomena Allegra Calogera Pentaghast, scariest woman this side of Par Vollen. A giant marshmallow," Varric shakes his head, sips his wine.
"You could at least get my names in the right order, Varric. Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast," Cassandra says, with the air of someone who's had to repeat the same thing dozens of times.
"Hell of a thing to do to a kid, stick them with a name bigger than they are," Varric says, reaching over to grab another small sandwich. Light glints off the gold band around his ring finger.
"Fuck. Forgot I was wearing the damn thing still. Looks like you did too, Seeker," Varric motions to the elegant band around Cassandra's ring finger.
Cassandra blushes, looking down at her hand in surprise. "So I did," she said softly, twisting the simple ring around her finger.
The ring's simplicity suited her, Varric thought. Any overly ostentatious ring would be impractical- bound to be snagged on clothing or armour, or to be easily damaged. The thin band emphasized the Seeker's slim finger.
"Suits you, Seeker," Varric says, avoiding any mention of how it flatters her.
Cassandra shot him a bemused look. "A fake wedding ring suits me, Varric? An odd compliment."
"Jewelry, I mean. The gold looks nice against your skin," Varric gestures towards Cassandra with his wine glass.
"Thank you," Cassandra says, ducking her face slightly to hide her blush.
"Shit, there go the lights again," Varric grumbled in the darkness.
"You'd think they'd have put candles in here, in addition to the sex toys," Cassandra says, carefully setting down her wine glass on the bedside table, "Though they were probably worried about fires."
Cassandra crosses the room, flicks the light switches off, and tentatively makes her way back to the bed.
"I don't know about that. If I owned this place, I'd burn it down myself," Varric says crankily.
In the gloom, the gaudy bedroom was more tolerable, the usually bright decor faded into a moodier palette.
"It is awful. Not the kind of place I would choose for my honeymoon," Cassandra said thoughtfully.
Rain pattered against the windows, another roll of thunder shook the glass in its panes.
"Your honeymoon, Seeker?" Varric asks, curious despite himself.
"Foolishness, and idle daydreams, Varric. Nothing more," Cassandra says sternly.
"Oh come on, Seeker. What the hell else are we going to talk about?" Varric says.
"The weather, current events, your love life?" Cassandra says sharply.
"Low blow, Seeker," Varric shrugs "Not like you don't know the important parts anyways."
Cassandra pauses thoughtfully, takes another sip of her wine. "I always wanted to go to Rivain, to see the ocean again."
"Again? Didn't figure you for the kind of person who vacationed in Rivain, Seeker," Varric said, passing Cassandra the wine bottle.
"When we were young, Anthony and I went with distant cousins for the summer. I remember the smell of the ocean, the warmth of the breeze," Cassandra says, sipping at her wine. "What of you, Varric?"
"Me? Dwarves and water are not exactly a good mix, Seeker," Varric says, watching Cassandra in the dim light.
Cassandra sighs and Varric could practically feel her roll her eyes at him. "You know what I meant."
"Yeah, I did," Varric shifts around on the bed, refills his own wine glass.
Silence stretched out between them, punctuated only by the rain and thunder.
"I did not mean to pry, Varric," Cassandra says, awkwardly.
Varric shrugs, then realizes Cassandra probably can't see him. "It's fine, Seeker."
Bright white light shone through the curtains, followed by a crashing boom that vibrated the entire room.
"One hell of a storm out there," Varric observes.
"We may be without power for a while yet," Cassandra agrees, taking a bite out of her sandwich.
Silence settles over them like a blanket. Aimlessly, Cassandra twirls the ring around her finger, pulling it off and slipping it back on again.
"Does it bother you, Varric?" Cassandra asks, fixing him with a curious look, "This fake marriage."
"It's fake, so no. I'm not bothered. Are you, Seeker?"
"I would be lying if I said it did not," Cassandra admits. "It seems a mockery of things I- others find important."
Once more there was silence except for the foul weather outside the motel. Cassandra settles herself more comfortably against the plush headboard, gaze firmly kept away from Varric, fingers worrying at the wedding ring she still wore.
A knock sounded at the door, loud in the quiet of their motel room. Jumping up off the bed, Cassandra hurried over to the door, wineglass in hand.
"Who's there?" Cassandra bent to look through the peephole. Varric had turned to look, when the knock came and had to remind himself that it was no business of his whether the Seeker had a nice ass.
Damn.
"Uh. Front desk? Sent me to tell you the power's back on, ma'am. Sorry for the inconvenience."
"Good. Thank you," Cassandra says, turning away from the door to flick the lights back on.
"Well that's a relief," Varric sighs, hopping off the bed and installing himself at the table.
It had to be the wine, Varric figured. The wine, and being made to spend time together. That was all. The second they got out of here, everything would go back to normal. He'd stop noticing the Seeker's eyes (or her smile, her legs, her hands), they'd stop almost having heart to hearts, and go back to taking pot shots at one another. Nice and normal.
Somehow that didn't seem so appealing.
Cassandra stood by the door, watching Varric's back as he arranged his workspace. The man always had to have things a certain way, Cassandra mused. Not everything, but the little things. Where a pen was, the way the paper was set out. Shaking her head, Cassandra sent Varric a fond look, then stopped cold, wondering at herself. When had she started thinking of Varric with fondness?
Settling down on her side of the bed, Cassandra opened Swords and Shields and began reading. Hopefully the morning would bring good news from the Inquisition.