Okay, it's been quite a while but I'm still here!
I've played veilguard, it made my brain go bzzt, so here is a chapter that hints about the future of this Fanfic.
I'm going off the timeline that means that inquisition took like 5 years to do, then like another 10ish years before veilguard.
So, I hope you like, hope you enjoy, and the next time I post, we'll be back to our normal Katza and Fenris, my feelgood OTP.
Flashforward!
Varric chuckled and leaned back in his chair. Cigar smoke wound around him, and he wore a smirk that refused to leave his lips. The conversation was entertaining for sure; it took him back to the early years in Kirkwall with a certain group of misfits. Shifting his weight on the chair, Varric cleared his throat. The cigar was balancing between two fingers, his hand resting on the table.
'Listen, kid,' he said with a slight serious undertone. 'You ever play chess?' Varric asked. He did not wait for an answer and continued speaking. 'Y'see, everyone's board is different. We're all looking across the board at an enemy, someone, or something that we feel we've got to outmaneuver, outthink-'
'I'm not really getting the point of this analogy, Varric-'
The dwarf rolled his eyes and flicked the half-burned cigar in the direction of the voice, forcing them to dodge. 'Then be quiet for a minute and you'll learn something, kid,' he said, simply. There was a snort in reply but silence followed soon enough that Varric could keep speaking. 'I won't lie, kid. There's an upcoming shit-storm that's threatening to engulf the world, and well, it looks like it's going to be a hell of a story,' he muttered, perhaps privately contemplating his own decisions.
Another snort, 'so what's the point of the chess board?'
Varric grabbed his pint and ran a hand through his hair. 'I'm getting there. Just give me a minute. This… is proving harder than I thought,' he admitted. I'm pretty sure that I'm going to go the burning circles of the fade for this, Varric thought to himself. Which would be an achievement in itself, seeing as dwarves can't even go to the fade… well, apart from that one time, he mentally added. Guilt rolling around in his stomach before he powered through, and concentrated on what he was here to do. He sighed, sipped his drink, and finally got to the crux of the analogy.
'Everyone has a reason to be thinking several moves ahead. Some of us think five, ten, twenty moves ahead, some of us are more… impromptu with our strategy. All our pieces on the board have a unique meaning to us. For example, a friend of mine; his 'King', the most important thing on his board, the thing that would destroy his world, should it be taken away? That's his family. His 'Queen'? That's his wife – incidentally the most powerful piece on the board, which is true in his case. His wife is… terrifying,' Varric chuckled, again. His own chatter amusing himself.
'Why isn't he the 'Queen'?'
'Because he considers himself more of a 'Knight' type,' Varric said. 'I, myself, I'm more of a 'Bishop' piece,' he grinned. 'I gotta admit, kid. The opposition on my board is daunting. The enemy Queen is looking more and more formidable by the minute.'
'Solas,' they stated in reply.
Varric nodded. 'You've heard,' he said quietly. The look he received said it all. 'Well, kid. I'm missing something vital on my board,' he said with a sigh. 'A piece that is underrated and underestimated.'
The young man opposite him, smirked. 'A Rook,' he said, his eyes flickering with familiar colours. One eye was a bright striking green and the other, a blue that looked somehow amber with the golden light that was cast with roaring fire that warmed the room. Varric smiled weakly, the lad was intuitive and skilled. 'So, why me? I'm… well, there are others more suited.'
The dwarf shrugged a shoulder. 'You're wily, kid. Trained by the Lords of Fortune, taught by one of the most talented rogues I know, beside myself of course,' he smirked, patting Bianca; who was leaning lovingly against his chair. 'How is Isabela?' Varric asked.
'Furious,' he smirked, seeing a little bit of the colour drain from Varric's face.
Varric inhaled, the sound whistling between his teeth a little. 'Ah-hah,' he said, wincing. 'Has she told-?'
'No,' he interrupted. 'Apparently, some sort of deal was made.'
'Oh, that,' Varric said, some of his more cocksure attitude returning. 'Well, that was the other part of my idea. Do y'know the best thing about having your Rook in play?'
The young lad tilted his head, 'um, no?' He answered, a little confused.
A light laugh rippled out the shadows as a woman in her early twenties stepped forward; somehow she had managed to fold the darkness around her like a cloak. Dressed in dark colours, she held herself honed and sharp like a blade, ready for the slightest movement; the smallest threat. Her eyes caught the light and reflected the same colour green as the confused teenager's.
'People always forget that there's two,' Varric said, a true smile breaking free.
The young lad looked at his sister, amusement dawning on him. 'Long time, no see, sister,' he mused.
She gave him a rare, reserved smile. 'Leto,' she replied, endearingly.