II: Somewhere Else
Plip.
Plip.
Plip.
Plip.
Necessity had made Varric a fairly light sleeper. Now, with very little reason to jump out of bed at a moment's notice with Bianca at the ready, he was beginning to regret acquiring that skill.
Plip.
Plip.
Something was falling to the stony ground outside his quarters. He peeked outside the window. A small scattering of rocks lay on the cobbles.
Plip.
Another pebble joined them.
"Andraste's tits, ass, and everywhere in between," he grumbled. Probably Cole, he figured, doing another weird spooky scamp thing. He pulled a coat over his shoulders and made for the battlements.
It wasn't Cole.
"So I guess you can't sleep."
Lyn stopped where she was, pebbles in hand. "Nope," she said without turning around.
" Want to talk about it?"
"Not really."
"Well you know where I am." Varric turned as if to leave.
5, he thought.
4
3
2
"Actually, yeah. I really could use someone to talk to."
"I figured. Where do you want to start?"
"Exactly where you'd expect, I guess. Do you think I made the right decision with the whole…Blackwall…thing?"
"Who's to say, really? I mean, what did you want to happen?"
"Ideally, to go back in time to when I didn't know about it, and live in blissful ignorance for the rest of my days."
"Well, we do know a guy for that, but you broke his time travel amulet and sentenced him to hard labor for his crimes."
"I did, didn't I?" Lyn chuckled. "At least that judgment call was pretty straightforward."
"Okay, so besides time travel, what's the best case scenario?"
"If, somehow, I could get things put back to rights. If I could have, uh, Thom back, for one. And if I could get our friends to still have respect for me even knowing that I pardoned him for selfish reasons. If maybe I could forgive myself for that. Wouldn't a Capital I Inquisitor have just left his ass in prison? Or sent him to the Wardens for real?"
"Well, considering you're the only Inquisitor there is, you're also the only one who can say what a real Inquisitor would do. And so maybe a real Inquisitor can still be a real person with real feelings. A soft spot, even. Like almost every hero who came before. Maybe there are a couple of moments that history might look at you sideways for. But the great thing about history is that the people who make it rarely have to read it."
Lyn rolled her eyes. "Says Mr. 'Tale of the Champion.' But thanks." She lobbed a pebble in the vague direction of the barn.
"I noticed you didn't say anything about forgiving him."
"Well," she said, lobbing another stone that buried itself neatly in the barn's thatched roof. "What's to forgive, really? Okay so he gave me a false name. We know the real one now. Problem solved. He lied to us about being a Warden, but it's not like he ever gave us any information that was even remotely actionable. How we didn't suss that part out before now, I'll never know. He ran out on me and made me look like a complete idiot."
She sighed and turned to face Varric for the first time that night.
"That might take some work. I might even have to speak to him at some point. I think for now, not killing him on the spot was a pretty good start." Her laughter was bitter, and didn't reach anywhere near her eyes.
"And the murders?"
"Not actually mine to forgive. You'd have to ask any remaining Calliers about that one. If there are any."
"You've given this a lot of thought."
"There's something about bailing your lover out of jail even though you're a public figure, he's guilty as sin, and everyone's in terrible mortal peril, that drags itself to the forefront of your mind."
"You have a point. And you need to get out of Skyhold for a while. Maybe out of Orlais. The whole thing is making you crazy, and we have enough crazy around here as is. When's your next field trip?"
"I was planning to take another swing through the Storm Coast starting on Monday, but I bet we can move that up. Our scouts saw darkspawn tunnels all over the place, and that whole …situation…of Red Templars that we really ought to address. I'm sure nobody would mind my absence for an extra day. Nobody I'll have to talk to, anyway."
"A situation of Red Templars," Varric said pensively. "That's a pretty good collective noun. Might save that for a book."
"Don't get settled at your desk too soon there, Mr. Tethras. I'm going to want you to come with me. These are Dwarven ruins we're going through."
"Really? Come on, I'm about as Dwarven as Sera is Elven. If you don't believe me, check out this beard I don't have."
"You've got one, it just fell down on your chest for some reason." This time some real laughter. "For real though, you're the one who knows how to trip all those funny Dwarven locks that lock up all the good loot."
"That is true, I guess. And good loot is pretty keenly appreciated"
"So you're with me?"
"Every step of the way, as always, your Inquisitorialness."
"Good. Now let's both try to get some sleep. We have a big day ahead of us."
"No argument from me. Just, if you come out to throw rocks again, can you aim them outside the keep from now on?"
"How come?"
Varric pointed down. "That's my windowsill, Lyn."
Lyn half-smiled sheepishly, but at the very least, the half that smiled was sincere.