Storytelling

Since it's referenced, I should point out that Olivia helped Anders blow up the Chantry in Kirkwall, and also that they just had twins shortly before Inquisition started.

"You're writing again, I see," she says, eyes darting between the small groups of people in the tavern with them before settling on his ink-stained fingers.

"The Inquisitor has asked me to write the next chapter of Swords and Shields for the Seeker."

Olivia's brows knit together, her eyes narrowing. "Swords and Shields? Really?" Varric nods, and her expression softens. "That's a surprise."

"I had the same reaction," he replies, a hint of laughter in his voice.

They are quiet again, and Olivia traces the rim of her glass with the pad of her finger, remembering the time she and Anders read one of Varric's ridiculous romance stories together, laughing the whole while. The memory is almost enough to distract her from everything around her, from the whispers and stares that follow her around Skyhold.

But, she can't escape reality, and a pang of worry shoots through her body, settling uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach as she thinks of Anders and the twins, hoping that they're doing okay without her. Swallowing hard, she tries to ignore the way her chest constricts at the thought of anything happening to them, a spark of electricity leaping from her fingers to the liquid in her glass.

The lightning fizzles away with a hiss as it meets her drink, alerting her to what she's subconsciously doing, and she jerks her hand away from the glass, immediately taking control of her magic before she accidentally hurts someone. Distress turns to anger–at her loss of control, her situation, that one damned man that won't stop glancing at them… even at Varric.

"You know, I read your book about me," Olivia states, looking the dwarf in the eyes. He holds her gaze, waiting for her to continue; no doubt he knew this conversation would happen. "You left a lot out." Varric opens his mouth to speak, but she cuts him off before he can get a word out, not bothering to hide the irritation in her voice. "Anders wasn't the only one responsible for the Chantry explosion. I helped him, I stood by his side when it happened, but you left that out and now everyone thinks he was a madman and a murderer."

"It was storytelling, Hawke," he explains, hands up in a defensive gesture. "It wasn't Blondie's story, it was yours. It was easy to sell someone like him being driven to that. But you…"

"Go ahead and say it, Varric," Olivia says with a huff, tearing her gaze from the dwarf. "I know what you're thinking."

"Hawke…"

She doesn't need to see the pitiful way he looks at her, she can feel it, and Maker does she hate it. She knows the words hang on the tip of his tongue, but he still doesn't say them, so she says them for him.

"I became–I am–a monster. And the hero of the story isn't supposed to turn into this," she blurts out, gesturing to herself as she finally meets his gaze again. She has to look away immediately.

This time the silence between them is uncomfortable, and Olivia can feel the urge to hit something quickly rising inside her. Standing, she turns to leave, when Varric's voice stops her.

"What happened to you, Olivia?"

It sounds so sorrowful, so pathetic, and she clenches her fists at her sides as she holds her tongue. He knows exactly what happened to her, he was there every step of the way, yet the question was still asked. Maybe, like Anders, he blames himself for what she's become, blames himself for not being able to stop his friend from going down the dark path she chose. It doesn't really matter, because the question still hangs in the air between them, so she gives him a simple answer.

"Kirkwall."