Sigrun scrutinized the ragged band of refugees tracking through the gates of the Vigil. The Warden Commander had received word weeks before that an old friend in trouble would be coming, bringing along some new friends in trouble.
It sounded kind of fun and romantic actually, too bad she knew Anders. It ruined some of the romanticism. If there was one thing Sigrun knew, it was that legends cast a funny light on the people around them, made them loom larger when the stories got passed around.
On the up side, it meant that people were telling some amazing stories about the dead dwarf who served with the Warden Commander.
On the down side, it meant that she couldn't listen to the stories about other legends without more cynicism than usual.
Still, she was terribly curious about the dwarf she had heard about who traveled with the Champion. She had heard that he was a Paragon of Manliness, with a beard that spread magnificently over his chest, a battle axe that was taller than he was, and a voice that could make mountains tremble when he shouted.
She also heard that he pined forever for a lost love named Bianca and was just waiting for the right woman to come along to make him forget her.
No, she was not just a little twitterpated at the thought of meeting him. Not at all. She totally had not given her armor an extra shine that morning when the runner had come with the news that the group was nearly there.
Picking out the dwarf in the group was easy enough.
He was… not what she had expected. If his beard had spread over his chest, it was to emigrate there from his face. His axe was a crossbow, making him a man who didn't even go for close up fighting.
But his voice. He said something to Anders and laughed that laugh and if mountains didn't tremble, her knees certainly did.
He caught her staring and his smile faded just a little before coming back brighter than ever as he ambled over to greet her.
"You must be Sigrun," he said in that touchable voice of his that wandered in her ear and pulled the lever that switched her brain to "off" and her mouth to "on."
"You're Varric," she said. "I heard about you. There are all kinds of stories about you going around."
He chuckled. "I spread most of the good ones," he admitted and held his arms out away from his sides. "How do they match up?"
She looked him over and thought that with that expanse of chest, she could understand why his beard had decided to travel south. Which led to thoughts of wondering just how far south it had emigrated. Which led to her cheeks turning scarlet and her mouth spilling out the first thing that came to mind. "I thought you'd be taller."
He raised an eyebrow and looked down at himself before shrugging. "So did I."