For those keener on the timeline of events, you'll notice I'm hopping around. Have desires for a certain character or scene from the game, let me know. Oh and, this will be the first deviation of POV. Cheers!

Here We Are

It was never easy, talking with Varric. She usually made things worse instead of better from her efforts, but recent events demanded she act. Cassandra came from a long line of people who lacked much in the indecisive or uncertain departments. She hadn't become second to the Divine because of her good looks; that much was certain. Cassandra snorted at her own self-deprecating humor. She thought perhaps even Varric would appreciate it if she shared it without making a mess of the conversation.

After asking the Inquisitor, and a number of others, on his whereabouts, Cassandra cautiously made her way to his quarters. If Melusine was accurate, then Varric should be at work on the next chapter of Swords and Shields. Cassandra's heart beat faster at the thought. She had many opinions to share with Varric regarding her favorite character and the amount of trouble he seemed to find pleasure in giving her. It wasn't fair, and she intended to tell him that.

Cassandra knocked on the door, listening carefully until she heard a muffled voice call her enter. Taking a deep breath, Cassandra pushed open the door and paused in the doorway until Varric saw her. He was at his desk—a very cluttered desk that had Cassandra's hands itching to organize it—with a quill in hand and glasses on h nose. He hadn't seemed to notice her presence yet. He was too busy scribbling something to pay attention to much else. Cassandra felt a smile touch her lips at the sight.

Cassandra had not admitted it to anyone else and only admitted to herself in the darkest part of the night after she read his words for the hundredth time: she found the dwarf roguishly handsome. When she'd first seen him thrown into the interrogation chair all that time ago, she'd felt punished by the Maker. Though she'd only known him through reports at seeing him in the flesh, Cassandra had been hit with a wave of awareness. There was something so…masculine about Varric. So otherly from what Cassandra had grown accustomed to in her work. Even before she'd stepped into the light and made herself known, Cassandra had felt drawn to him she'd never felt for another human. And she'd known their fates would be intertwined regardless of how she felt about it.

This had made her angry. At herself, and Varric for his inadvertent ability to distract her from her work. This had only fueled her ire in their first moments together. Cassandra knew she'd been far harsher on the dwarf than necessary, punishing him for her own weaknesses. And she equally knew she continued to act toward him in a cowardly manner. She'd never been the type to hide her interest or curiosity in a man, though she always mixed up the words when trying to express her interest. It was a miracle from the Maker that she'd ever had-

Varric looked up, and his sigh broke through her thoughts, "What have I done now?"

"Nothing." Cassandra moved closer. "Yet."

Varric put down the quill and leaned back in his chair. She saw a few ink stains on the cuff of his shirt and more smudges on the edge of his hand. More than once, she'd wondered what his hands felt like, the mixture of archery callouses and a writer's touch. Cassandra fought to keep her attention on the dwarf's face and not in her own fantasies.

"Varric Tethras." Varric gave a somber nod. "Paragon of good behavior. At your service." He looked past Cassandra to the door then back to her, "What was so important that you sought me out, aside from your moniker?"

Cassandra rolled her eyes before taking a deep breath and officially starting the conversation, "I assume you've heard about Prince Sebastian?"

"I know he invaded Kirkwall." Varric pulled his glasses from his nose and set them beside his quill. "Are you going to blame me for that too?" He asked with a mischievous smirk on his face.

They had barely gotten a few seconds into the conversation, and she'd already somehow messed it up. She held up her hands, "I wasn't trying to-"

"You weren't trying to remind me of how bad it is in Kirkwall, so you decided to talk about it?" Varric interjected, his smirk still strong and now mixed with a more severe look of sadness.

"But there has been reconstruction." Cassandra closed the space between her and Varric, now standing with only the table between them. "I thought you might be concerned. It IS your home."

"Of course, I'm concerned. I just don't need you prodding me with a stick to prove it." Varric shook his head and pushed away from the table. He walked over to the corner and poured himself a glass of wine. He held out the pitcher, and Cassandra surprised him by nodding. "And what you're talking about are the buildings. And even that will take years. People don't recover from things so easily." He walked back and handed her the glass. He clinked his glass against hers without asking and walked back to sit in his chair.

Cassandra swallowed the sweetened wine and hoped that it would help her stop messing this up, "Well, have you heard from any of your Kirkwall associates?"

"You're asking me?" Varric's eyebrows rose. "So, you don't read my letters?" He sounded genuinely surprised.

"You're no longer my prisoner. Much as you like to act like it." Cassandra sipped at the wine as she moved around the edge of the table. Her curiosity was getting the better of her, and Cassandra wondered if she could glimpse a portion of what he'd been writing, perhaps see what came next in the story.

"Yeah." Varric didn't sound convinced, and neither was he having her curious perusal. He set aside his cup and quickly shuffled his papers together, closing the notebook he'd been scribbling in. "Yet I still get all the suspicion."

Cassandra sighed and leaned against the table parallel with his chair. "I am not without sympathy." She broke eye contact as she added, "Especially given recent events."

Cassandra didn't see Varric's expression, but she knew her words hit their mark as instead of turning serious, as she'd been hoping he would, Varric hid behind sarcasm, "Why Seeker, I would never accuse you of having sympathy!" Cassandra groaned and pushed away from the table, stalking over to fill up her glass again. "By the way," he called after her, "I refer to my 'associates' as friends. Maybe you're not familiar with the concept."

Cassandra banged the pitcher against the desk. "I think you need to stop acting like the wounded party with me." Cassandra turned to glare at him. "The act is getting old."

Varric's eyes widened, and he feigned horror, "Ignoring the times you actually wounded me?"

"I did no such thing," Cassandra growled and stormed closer. She slammed her cup on the table, not noticing right away when some wine sloshed over the side and soaked some of Varric's papers. "I questioned you, then brought you to Haven so you could tell your story to the Divine."

Varric noticed the wine and sprung to his feet, moving to a bureau to grab linen. He brought it back to dab at the mess Cassandra made. "What then? 'Thanks, Varric, we believe you, Varric, see you around, Varric.'" He shook his head and dropped the soiled linen onto the pile of papers with a sigh.

"You DID lie to me. Do not pretend to be an innocent bystander. I could have done far worse." Cassandra chewed on her lower lip at the sight of the damage her impulsive move had done.

"Yes," she looked back up to see Varric's only partially amused smile, "thanks for not torturing me."

Cassandra picked up her cup and moved it away from any further accidents. After taking another small sip, she spoke, "Varric, I'm sorry about earlier. With the table."

"Beg your pardon?" Varric leaned his elbows on the table. "I didn't catch that, Seeker." Cassandra could tell from his expression and his voice that he was teasing her, again.

"I AM sorry." She glared at him but didn't get any satisfaction from the action as Varric made a show of pulling out some papers and picking up his quill.

"I'll mark this on my calendar." He moved with exaggeration and spoke with more emphasis than needed. "'Cassandra had a feeling.'" He looked up, and the smirk he gave her reminded her, again, of how handsome he was and how much it annoyed her to think so. "'And she had one without stabbing anything,'"

Cassandra rolled her eyes as she moved to sit on the only other thing to sit on his quarters: the bed. "Not all my feelings involve stabbing. And perhaps I'm not THAT sorry." She shifted to get more comfortable, and in the process, she knocked another notebook out from under his pillow. At her discovery, he looked uneasy, but she merely smiled and set it aside. "By the way, the knight-captain in your story, it seems like she should be taller."

Varric blinked at her. He let a moment pass during which he finished his wine and leaned back in his chair. He continued to study her a moment longer before he smiled and nodded, "I'll mark that down. Next time I tell a story at knifepoint, I'll be sure to describe them as taller."

"I never had you at-" Cassandra cut herself off at Varric's smirk and shook her head. Her eyes traveled over the papers on his desk, and she asked, "How do you find the right words? I struggle so much with them."

"You, Seeker?" Varric shook his head, but his face didn't hold incredulity, just surprise. "A writer?"

Cassandra shrugged, "I'm trying to be precise with my reports, but they always come across as-"

"Dry? Boring? Lifeless? Stale?" Varric's smile grew as Cassandra groaned, rolling her eyes.

She sighed, "You are an ass."

"Just helping you find those words." Varric laughed.

His amusement at her expense reminded her of one of the other reasons why she came to talk to him. She stood and came back to stand by the table, leaning forward as she braced her palms on it.

"And how could you let the knight-captain be framed for murder?"

Varric's eyes widened, and it looked, for a moment, as if he was confused with the turn the conversation had taken. But the moment was not long, and he relaxed further into the chair and smiled, "I did spend the previous three chapters setting that up."

"But you'd already put her through more than enough!" Cassandra identified so much with the knight-captain that it was personally frustrating to have this woman of such strong virtue be thrown through so much pain.

"Look, Cassandra," Varric spoke to her as if she were a child, and she snorted, "if you love a character, you give them pain, ruin their lives, make them suffer. Maybe even throw in a heroic death."

"That makes little sense." She stood straight and crossed her arms over her chest. "Just because that's how your romantic entanglements have been to this point doesn't mean that's how it is for everyone!"

Varric laughed, "By romantic entanglements, I assume you're talking about our red lyrium leak?" Cassandra nodded. "Not everyone can be as blessed and cursed as myself when it comes to romance, Seeker."

"Am I to understand that your Bianca is married?" Cassandra asked before she thought better of it, and she held her breath, afraid she'd done it again: ruined the opportunity to grow closer to Varric.

Varric laughed and shook his head, "Have we reached the stage in our relationship that we gossip about each other's love lives?" He looked at his empty cup and seemed to contemplate another.

"It was a simple question, Varric."

"There's nothing simple about it." Making up his mind, he got up and finished off the wine, pouring it into his glass and immediately drinking it down. "You brought up Bianca, Seeker," he leveled her with a challenging look accompanied with a smirk, "does that mean I can talk about your conquests?"

Cassandra felt her palms warm, and she shifted on her feet, "I would rather you didn't."

Varric stalked toward her and stopped only when the tips of his boots nearly touched her own. She could smell the ink and parchment on him, along with the oils he used to clean his crossbow. It was a strange combination of creativity and destruction, and it always nearly made Cassandra's head swim. She fought against the desire to lean towards him, doubly difficult with the predatory smile he gave her.

"No tantalizing secrets to divulge?" His voice was deep and alluring.

Cassandra gritted her teeth, "None. I have no conquests."

"What about dalliances?" Varric circled her, his smile not lessoning. "Liaisons?" He leaned closer as he added, "Illicit affairs?"

"No."

Varric came back to face her, and his eyes widened, "Are you blushing, Seeker?" He rocked back on his heels and tucked his hands into the band of cloth he kept tied at his waist. He shook his head; his smile took on a distinct quality, "Maker, the world really is coming to an end."

Cassandra stared at him for a time, feeling herself being drawn into the intensity of his gaze. This was the longest they'd gone without fighting, and it was such a welcome change that Cassandra decided to be braver than she felt.

"Very well, Varric." She returned to the bed and sat down. "If you wish to know, I will tell you."

Varric's eyes widened as he approached, his hands splayed open for her to see, "Really, Cassandra I was only-"

"No, I pried first." She patted the bed beside her and was surprised when Varric sat down without further encouragement. "And fair is fair." She took a deep breath before she began, "Years ago, I knew a young mage, his name was Regain. He was dashing and unlike any man I'd ever met." Cassandra smiled at the memory, her smile dying as her memory completed a familiar cycle. She returned her gaze to Varric, "He died at the Conclave."

Varric's eyes conveyed his sympathy, "Oh." He shifted on the bed and rubbed the back of his neck.

"What we had was fleeting, and years have passed. Still, it saddens me to think he's gone."

"I'm sorry." Varric reached out and awkwardly patted her knee. "Look, Cassandra," he withdrew his hand before Cassandra gave in to her urge to reciprocate the touch with one of her own, "I didn't mean to make you talk about your mage friend."

"I know. And I was not trying to make you speak of Bianca." Cassandra smiled, "If I was, you would know. I would yell, and books would be stabbed. "

Varric laughed, patted her knee again, and stood up, "I'll keep that in mind."

"About what happened, Varric. In the Deep Roads with Bianca-" Cassandra stopped and waited for his response. Would he push her away, hide behind humor, or finally be open with her?

Varric sighed and shook his head, "I'm glad to have answers but, shit. The second she showed up here I knew," He rubbed his hands over his face and faced her, I" just let this mess happen when I gave her the thaig." He gave a humorless laugh, "I am not good at dealing with shit like this."

"Quit being evasive and tackle it head-on."

"Sure." Varric paced his way back to the bed and sat down, leaning against the footboard to face her. "You know it took me three years to work up the nerve to confront my brother for trying to kill me?" Cassandra vaguely knew the story. "And even then, I couldn't make myself do it without somebody standing there to hold my hand." He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head, "If you hadn't dragged me here, I'd be in Kirkwall right now pretending none of this was happening."

Cassandra leaned across the bed and lightly touched his leg. "You know that's not true." His eyes traveled from where her hand continued to touch him to her face. Cassandra squeezed her fingers and smiled, "You've worked as hard as any of us to stop Corypheus."

"Thank you," Varric swallowed and forced a smile, "for your help down there."

Cassandra nodded and sat up straight again. Her curiosity was getting the better of her again. But at least they'd managed this far without major issue. Perhaps they could last longer?

"After all this," Cassandra twisted her fingers together in her lap as she spoke, "do you think you'll see Bianca again?"

"I don't even know anymore. I always do." Varric didn't sound happy with the prospect and Cassandra could understand why someone would want to pursue such a twisted relationship, regardless of history. Varric's question brought her back, "When this is all over, do you think you'll go back to Nevarra?"

Cassandra glared at him, "Why are you eager to see me go?"

"I wasn't, but now that you mentioned it." He laughed at the look on her face.

"How do you know I wouldn't just drag you along?" At her own question, Cassandra saw the image her words painted in her mind. She found the concept of Varric tagging along with her across Thedas was not at all a bad one, and that fact surprised her.

"Be still my heart," Varric laughed away his own surprise, "I've grown on you."

She rolled her eyes and played along, "Like fungus."

"You know you never did tell me why you dragged me to Haven. What could I tell the Divine that you couldn't tell her yourself?"

The memory was mixed in feeling, bittersweet. Cassandra rolled her shoulders.

"I thought she needed to see the chest hair for herself." She eyed him from under her lashes and saw the expression of shock on his face. She fought hard to keep her smile under control.

"Say again?" He rubbed at his ears as if he'd heard wrong.

Cassandra nodded, "I thought she should hear it from the horse's mouth. Plus, I knew she would ask you to help us."

"Help the Inquisition?" Varric pointed to himself. "Me?" His smile warmed Cassandra from head to toe.

"A crazy thought, I know." She settled herself more comfortably on the bed and smiled at him, "Yet here you are."

Varric's smile deepened, "Here WE are."