Note: Let's play guess the movie reference! I couldn't help myself.
Ravena found Varric sitting by himself in a corner of the tavern's second floor. He usually held court there when he couldn't be found in the Great Hall, the scarred table littered with missives from the Merchant's Guild, letters from his editors, and various drafts of his works in progresses. The chairs surrounding the table would usually be full, or at least have a handful of people sitting in them, all waiting to be regaled with one of his legendary stories. Tonight, the table was empty, as were the chairs. He had his customary glass of brandy in his hand, but it looked as if he were more concerned with staring into the contents of his cup than actually drinking.
"I ever tell you about the time Hawke was challenged by the Arishok?" he asked, not looking up when Ravena sat down next to him.
"Not apart from what you wrote in her book," she replied.
He huffed a humorless laugh. "I had a time trying to write that chapter. Words can't really capture the smell of Kirkwall burning, the feeling of the nobles' sheer terror that buzzed around the Viscount's chamber like a swarm of angry bees. I couldn't find the right words to give just how much that damned place reeked of blood any sort of justice." He stared at the tabletop. "There had been so much: the Viscount's, the Arishok's, but most of it had been Hawke's. He yelled doesn't really define the way Sebastian had screamed her name when the Arishok ran her through either. We all had to hold him back or else he would have gone in there to fight at her side, which would have killed her for certain."
"Varric…"
"That thing, that fear demon. It told me that I was going to be the reason Hawke died, just like I was the reason her sister…" He took a gulp of his drink. "We had to leave Sunshine in the Deep Roads. Fenris and I built a cairn over her to keep darkspawn and whatever other scavengers away. Poor Bethany, it was agony for her at the end. I volunteered to…to end her suffering, but Hawke insisted that she be the one."
"She didn't want anyone else burdened with the guilt of taking her sister's life, no matter how humane the reason."
"Heh. Too late for that one. It was my damned brother's idea to go into the Deep Roads to get treasure. It was my damned fault that Hawke and her family got involved in the first place. It took months for me to finally work up the courage to step foot inside Hawke's home and offer my condolences to Leandra. I don't know about you, but most of the Fade that we went through looked too much like the Deep Roads. I could go the rest of my life without going underground again." He was quiet for a beat. "I killed him, you know. Bartrand. The idol drove him insane. I could have spared him, could have found him help, but…" He swirled his drink, not caring about how it sloshed out of his glass. "His death, that's on me, too."
"The fear demon knew how to push our buttons," she admitted. "Get us good and scared and it would just get stronger and stronger. But we beat it."
"Yeah. Too bad it cost us Stroud."
Her face fell. "I know. He was a good man." Her fingers twitched on the wooden tabletop and she suddenly wished that she had thought to bring a drink up for herself. "Abandonment."
Varric finally looked up at her. "What?"
She took a breath, held it, and slowly let it out. "It told me that the only reason you all were still with me was because of the Mark. Had I not had it, you would be long gone by now."
"Well, that's just bullshit."
"I know that now, but right then, in the moment…" she frowned. "It told me that I'd never be good enough, smart enough, strong enough to keep anyone with me, not without holding some sort of enticement over your heads to make you stay. It told me that I'd be powerless to do anything but watch as you all walked away and left me alone." Then, there in the Fade, old fears and insecurities she had thought long-conquered proved more powerful than the threat of imminent death. She had lied to Blackwall when he had asked her what had happened, failure slipping past her lips easier than an explanation on how the demon's insidious voice had slithered past her ears. You think that love will be enough to keep your Warden, but he'll turn his back on you like the Templar before him. He'll cast you aside as your parents did and ignore you just like your brother is doing. It's only a matter of time before he moves on to someone better and forgets you.
Warm hands on her own brought her back to the present. "Hey," Varric said, his fingers squeezing over hers. "I'm not going anywhere. The bar might not be seedy enough for my usual tastes, but the company is fantastic."
"And after?"
He gave her a sympathetic look. "You know I love you, Dusty, but I love Hawke too. We both know where she's headed once everything is all over. I've heard good things about Starkhaven in the springtime." He bumped her shoulder with his. "But, as crazy as it sounds, I still want to see Skyhold in the winter. Besides, you can't get rid of me that easily. I need to go on one of your digs to see if all the stories you tell are true or if you're just pulling them out of your ass to impress me."
Ravena let out a watery sounding laugh. "I love you too, Varric." She gratefully leaned against him. "So, my stories really do impress you?"
"Yep. The one about taking the golden statue off a hidden pressure plate triggering that gigantic rolling boulder trap sounds like something straight out of one of my serials."
She laughed. "If you ever want to take a break from the romance genre and head back into the adventure titles, let me know and I'll see what I can do."
He gave her hands one last squeeze before pulling back. "Feel better?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"That's what I'm here for. Well, that and to play the part of the loveable dwarf with a gorgeous crossbow."
"And a heart of gold?"
"Absolutely." His fingers nervously tapped on the tabletop. "I know we've only come back from Adamant, but I gotta ask you a favor."
She sat up straighter. "Done. What do you need?"
He wagged a finger at her. "You know, you really need to start asking people what they want you to get into before blindly agreeing to things."
"Please. Did we not just go through the touchy-feely friendship moment a few seconds ago? What can I do?" She listened as Varric told her of an old friend needing his help. She couldn't help but be curious about this Bianca person, especially when Varric's eyes softened and his mouth curved up into a nostalgic looking smile. She'd seen the same expression on Hawke's face when she spoke of Sebastian, and Ravena was pretty sure that she herself had that same look whenever she talked about Blackwall. She didn't ask Varric any personal questions about his friend, thinking that she would have plenty of time later on to observe them together and form her own opinion, but between the two of them, they planned out an excursion in record time. She was going to leave their list of goods needed for the trip with the quartermaster when Varric called out to her.
"Hey, Ravena?"
It was the first time that she had ever heard Varric use her given name. "Yes, Varric?"
"I don't think any of us has said it, but thanks for getting us out of there." He gave her a smile. "But from me personally, thanks for getting Hawke out. The letter I'm writing Choir Boy would have been a hell of a lot harder to do otherwise."
She nodded. "You're welcome."
It was late by the time she climbed the stairs leading to the hayloft. She had to smile when she found Blackwall lounging on his bed, a pile of wood shavings at his side and a block of wood in his hands slowly turning into a Mabari pup destined for one of the children who called Skyhold home. When he first told her about making toys for the children in his spare time so they could have something to call their own in a new place, she had thought it was endearing that he would think of their smallest refugees when they could have easily been overlooked. When she got to see him deliver simple carved animals or the roughly-made dolls he had crafted out of twine and spare burlap and how much the children loved them, it made Ravena love him all the more.
"Here," she said, sitting cross-legged beside him in bed and plopping a rag full of cookies on top of his chest.
"What's this?" he asked, setting the dog aside.
"Sera made them, asked if I'd share." As soon as she had left Varric, she had dropped in on Sera, who had sensed that Ravena had wanted to talk about anything other than the events in Adamant. Instead, Sera had dragged Ravena out one of her windows and onto the rooftop, where the two of them talked about cookies and family. Sera hadn't been happy with how her newly-coined Inquisition Cookies had turned out, but brightened when Ravena offered to help her tweak the recipe until Sera was satisfied with their taste.
He picked up one and regarded it with a wary eye, which was always a good thing to do with anything that came from Sera. "Are these raisins?"
"She's not too keen on keeping raisins in the recipe." Settling down beside him, she moved the cookies to an empty crate Blackwall was using as a bedside table. "What kind do you like? I'll make sure to bake up a batch for you the next time the cooks let us in the kitchen."
He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know you baked."
She scoffed. "Please. If I wasn't running around outside with my brothers or with my father with my nose stuck in a book, I could be found in my family's kitchens. Our cook taught me everything I know." Ravena smiled and snuggled close to Blackwall. She hadn't thought about Audrey in such a long time, but she had loved spending time with the older woman. Like Sera, Ravena had missed the cookie lesson from her own mother, but she had been lucky enough to learn it from Mistress Audrey instead. She had been patient and kind as she taught Ravena how to make basic things much like she would have taught her own daughter.
All of a sudden it hit her how very lonely her mother must have been. While Ravena had learned how to embroider and paint china cups and a multitude of other ladylike pastimes from her mother, she had never really latched on to any accomplishment for them to have a shared hobby to bond over, preferring to spend her time in her father's study over her mother's day room. When her eldest brother had married, her mother had gushed about René's new bride, joyful that she finally had someone to spend time with. At the time, it hadn't bothered her, but now…
Sensing her silent withdrawal, Blackwall wrapped his arm around her and tugged her closer to his side. "What's wrong?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Nothing. I was just thinking that I owe my mother a long-overdue letter."
They were both quiet for a while, content to listen to the world revolve outside the hayloft. "Chocolate," Blackwall said, breaking the silence.
Ravena rested her chin on his chest. "Hmm?"
"I like chocolate," he explained. "When I was little, it was too expensive to get but once a year, after the harvest and Da had been paid. He spent most of his money on seed for the next season's planting, the rest on cheap booze. My mother would save what leftover coin she could for everyday expenses, and she would use whatever was left to splurge on getting an ounce of dark chocolate at a market stall. Alone, it would have been too little to split between the four of us, so she would dice it up into the smallest of chips and add them to the morning biscuits with a bit of sugar she had bartered with a neighbor for. It wasn't quite a cookie, but Liddy and I loved them. Ma would serve them with this heavy-handed Orlesian accent and mispronounce pain au chocolat on purpose to make Liddy laugh." He closed his eyes, all but tasting the simple treat. He remembered that after he had won the Grand Tourney, he had sent his mother a basket overflowing with the finest Orlesian chocolates he could buy. Thinking back, he would have been better off sending her all the money he had pissed away on wine and whores instead, not knowing that back home his father's field had gone unplanted for several seasons and that his father himself spent most of his days marinating in homemade hooch while his mother scrimped and did all sorts of jobs around the village to scrape up enough coin to keep a roof over their heads. They may have been poor growing up, but both of his parents had died paupers while he had the means to help, but had been too thoughtless and selfish to do so.
"Then I'll be sure to let Sera know to add chocolate chips into her recipe, just for you."
He smiled, shaking off the sad memories. "You spoil me."
Leaning up, she pressed a brief kiss to his lips. "Someone has to." Picking up the half-finished Mabari, she turned it in her hands. It was a noble looking creature, its head cocked to the side as if contemplating its owner. "Who's this for?"
"Trevor, Scout Jim's little boy. Jim keeps on going on about how his son wants to get a dog, but with the war and everything, it's impossible. I thought this might be enough to tide him over until later."
"That's thoughtful of you." She kissed him again. "And incredibly sweet."
He laughed. "Don't tell anyone. It'll ruin my image of being this tough bear of a man."
Ravena crossed her fingers over her heart. "You're secret's safe with me." She arched her eyebrow. "Though I may need some bribery to keep my lips sealed after a while."
"Ah, there's that mercenary streak I was warned about." He leered and rolled them over so that he loomed over her, his forearms braced on either side of her head. "I may not be able to keep your lips sealed, my lady, but I bet I could keep them busy."
Below, Dennett shook his head as a peal of laughter drifted down from the hayloft. "Young love," he said, patting one of the horses' necks. Dousing the lanterns, he made sure that the barn door was closed and secured for the night. "It's either irritatingly sweet or just plain irritating." Still shaking his head, he left the stables and made his way to his quarters, where a letter to his wife was waiting to be written.
Note: Blackwall is Skyhold's Santa Claus. Pass it along. I also wanted to give Jim a family, so in any Cullenmance he has someone to talk to. "How was my day? I was minding my own business, doing my job when my boss jumped down my throat for delivering a message. I thought he was going to bite my head off! I'm certain to get demoted to latrine duty tomorrow..."