Renegades, Mages and Rogues Ch. 01

Varric watched as the hooded dwarf picked up a key from the desk before inserting it into the door at the end of the hall, locking it. He felt his heart sinking to his boots.

"Bianca..." he said, his voice admonishing, hurt and confused. He exchanged glances with the Inquisitor. "You're the leak? You know what this stuff does to people!"

"When I got the location I went and had a look for myself. I found the red lyrium and I... studied it." Bianca sounded nervous. "It has the blight, Varric! Do you know what this means?"

"What, that two deadly things combine to become something super-awful?" Varric asked, sarcastically as he glared at Bianca.

"Lyrium is alive, or something like it. The blight doesn't infect minerals, only animals. I couldn't get any further on my own so I looked for a Grey Warden Mage. Blight and magical expertise in one, right? I found this guy, Larius, he seemed really interested in helping my research. So I gave him a key." Bianca's voice trailed off

"Larius?" Varric's voice was surprised and doubtful. "He was the Grey Warden we met in Corypheus'... Oh, Shit. I knew something was off about that guy."

"I didn't realize until you said you found red lyrium at Haven. I came here, and well... Then I went to you.

"You couldn't have known what would happen, Bianca." Inquisitor Corwyn said.

Fire flashed in Varric's amber eyes. "Maferath's Balls, she didn't!" He exploded, "I told her exactly how dangerous this shit is."

"Varric, I was trying to help! And I knew I had to something to fix this!"

"This isn't one of your machines, Bianca. You can't just replace a part and expect things to work!"

"No, but I can try, can't I? Or am I supposed to wallow in my mistakes forever, kicking myself, telling stories about what I should have done."

"HA! Like I would tell stories about my own mistakes." Varric growled.

"Enough, you two!" The blonde elf all but shouted.

Varric suddenly seemed to deflate. "Sorry, Inquisitor." He took a deep breath, "Bianca, you better get home, before somebody misses you."

"Varric, I..."

"Just... Go." He lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck as he shook his head. As Varric turned and started to walk away he heard Bianca tell the Inquisitor, "If he gets killed, I'll feed you your own eyeballs."

Varric stopped dead in his tracks and turned back to his 'girlfriend'. "Bianca Darvi, if I get killed you can feed yourself your own eyeballs. You let this get out and gave Corypheus access to the red lyrium. You put everybody in Thedas in danger. And if you touch one hair on the head of the Inquisitor, you may find yourself in My Bianca's crosshairs." With that he turned on his heel and marched stiffly past Iron Bull and Cole, towards the entrance to the hall.

"Ice; creeping, crawling, freezing. Cracking the place inside that loved her." Cole murmured to Bull.

~*~

The Inquisitor lead them back through the gates of Skyhold. Varric had spent the trip back from the Hinterlands quietly seething. Everything that had lead up to this point was his fault. The red lyrium? Wouldn't have been found but for him and Bartrand, his brother. The explosion at the Chantry that started the Mage rebellion? Anders, who had been a friend. Corypheus himself, reappearing after a thousand years? Hawke, who was Varric's best friend. The red lyrium getting to the surface and distributed? Bianca, who wouldn't even know about it if Varric hadn't wanted her help figuring out what it was. Everything that led to where they all were at right now could be attributed to him and those closest to him.

Varric dismounted his pony and untied his pack from the back of the saddle and handed the beast off to one of the stable boys. As he shouldered his pack he heard a familiar light step behind him and turned sighing. "Hey Hawke. I thought you would have left by now?"

"I leave for Crestwood in the morning" Taking in the defeated way Varric carried himself, a black eyebrow delicately arched. Hawke's azure eyes flitted around the group, from the Inquisitor to Bull to Cole, before settling back to Varric's eyes. "What's happened?"

"Bianca screwed me over. Again." Varric growled as he moved past her, towards the keep. Hawke fell into step beside him. "She's the one who leaked the information about the Thaig. I'm sure she didn't mean for the information to get to Corypheus, but it did."

As the pair entered the keep, Varric flagged down a servant and asked for a meal to be sent to his room. They turned down a hall and up some stairs. Varric unlocked a door and opened it for Hawke, who entered. It was smaller and more cramped than his rooms at the Hanged Man, but they were comfortable and private. The only thing the room lacked was room for a desk. Varric set Bianca on the chest at the end of the bed and threw his pack in the corner. A fire had already been laid in the hearth. While Varric hung up his duster, Hawke leaned her staff against the wall, her outer mage robes settled over it and plopped into one of the chairs. She held up a bottle she had pulled from inside her robes. "Courtesy of Cabot down in Herald's Rest. It's not as bad as the stuff Corff served. Not enough piss, I think."

Varric chuckled as he took down two cups from his cupboard and handed them to Hawke. She poured the amber whiskey into the glasses just as a knock came from the door. Varric opened the door and took the tray of food from the servant there, thanking them. He set it down on the low table in front of the two chairs. Accepting his cup from Hawke, he sat, saluted her with the cup and took a slow swallow.

"Remember Larius?" Varric rasped, his throat burning a little from the alcohol.

"That creepy, half blighted Warden at Corypheus' prison, Yes." Hawke cut a piece of bread and started loading it with meat and cheese.

"I'm not sure how he enters into this yet, but Bianca said he was a mage and interested in helping her with the red stuff. I don't remember him being a mage."

"He wasn't. You're not going to ask her." It was a statement, not a question. Hawke knew him better than anybody, even Bianca, it seemed.

"Hell no."

Varric sipped his whiskey and watched Hawke eat, a scene that had played out in the past thousands of times. Usually after a mission, Hawke would come to the Hanged Man. They would drink and relax downstairs; sometimes quiet, sometimes loud and rowdy. They'd usually stay until Norah shooed them upstairs, where they would continue drinking in front of his fire, until they eventually passed out on his bed. Varric smiled, thinking about how many times he'd woken to Hawke snoring and drooling on his pillow.

"Copper for your thoughts." Hawke suddenly said.

Varric glanced over to her. Her lips turned up in an amused smirk. "Oh, they're worth a sovereign, easily." Varric found himself smiling back.

"I'd give you a silver, at most." She responded, the words tumbling off her tongue as easily as water through a worn riverbed. These were words they'd exchanged enough times to make them a private joke.

Varric chuckled, his eyes held hers. "Should have stuck with a copper. I was just thinking about Kirkwall. Unwinding after a mission.

Hawke pursed her lips, "You mean after running another errand for somebody who was too lazy or afraid to solve their own problems."

"Yea, but we made a lot of coin doing it."

Hawke lifted her glass to Varric, who touched his to hers. "True story." She tossed her drink back and held out her glass for another, which Varric refilled. She suddenly started snickering, "Remember that guy who followed Isabela around and kept using those horrible metaphors to describe her? What ever happened to him?"

"I saved his life. Paid him to leave before Isabela put one of those knives in his gut." Varric grinned.

Hawke laughed, as Varric started into another story from the Hanged Man. They continued drinking, exchanging stories back and forth, some they both knew others they didn't. As they'd talked, they'd finished eating, removed the tray and moved to the floor to play cards at the table. Boots had been kicked off, sleeves rolled up as they had gotten more comfortable. After finishing the bottle Hawke had brought, Varric had produced another from his cupboard. He'd wobbled enough when he retrieved it, that Hawke giggled at him, making him snicker back. He'd collapsed on the floor next to her, popped the bottle and poured her another drink as she giggled.

They lapsed into companionable silence, as Hawke leaned into his side. She continued to giggle intermittently as thoughts apparently flitted through her head. Varric smiled as he put his arm around her. Lucky for them in this position, she was short for a human, still taller than he was, but shorter than most. It had been a long time since they'd been able to just sit back and relax with each other. Varric snorted to himself. It'd been a long time since he'd been able to relax at all.

First everything following Anders' explosion. Kirkwall had been chaotic, and the first priority for Varric had been getting Hawke out of it. All of her friends knew that there would be an exalted march at the most, an inquiry at least. They'd packed a protesting Hawke up with Isabela and who sailed them away. True to predictions, the Seeker had shown up to look for Hawke only three weeks later. They'd snatched Varric off the street and had interrogated him for a week. They let him go, but he suspected it was only to see if he was going to lead them to Hawke (like he had that kind of nug-shit for brains).

Finally, a week later, they'd hauled him out of the Hanged Man and put him on a boat as well. The Seeker told him she was bringing him to the Conclave, to tell Marian Hawke's side of the story. It would have to be him, since they couldn't find her. He'd been lucky; they hadn't been smart enough to notice the coded message from Hawke on his table, and the one he was composing back to her.

As they'd landed in Ferelden the Seeker and her companion had gotten word that the conclave had blown up and a huge hole that spewed demons was seared across the sky. Before he'd known it, he was fully ensconced in the Inquisition, helping his former captors and a young elf who was handy with a bow. She seemed to be their only hope, as she'd been marked with... well, something. It wasn't too long before they'd fought Corypheus and found themselves at Skyhold. It had felt like one thing after another.

As Varric thought back over the events of the last half year (had it been only that?) he felt Hawke slowly slump against him. He realized that her breathing had gone deep and even. Smiling, Varric put his glass on the table. He took Hawke's glass from her limp fingers and nudged her up higher on his shoulder. He looked at her, sleeping on him and leaned in to kiss her temple. Sure, they'd hugged, even held each other while passed out, but only after she'd passed out first could he show his affection for her, afraid she wouldn't feel the same as him. She was The Champion (capital letters). He was just her biographer and best friend; a dwarf. Slowly, Varric turned her in his arms and scooped her up. Carefully, he pulled back the blankets and placed her in the bed, tucking her in.

Varric surveyed the room, blew out the candles and decided that everything else could wait to be put away. He went to the other side of the bed and curled up next to Hawke. It had felt like everything in the last six months had been done at a sprint, and then suddenly Hawke had shown up. Sure, he'd asked her, but as soon as he'd seen her, heard her laughter, he'd felt the knots in his shoulders loosen. It was like she was a balm that soothed his nerves. That is, until Bianca showed up, and everything went to shit again.

Varric sighed softly to himself. His reaction to Bianca only confirmed what he had been suspecting for years. Yes, a part of him was excited to see her, but that part of him was crushed when he realized what she'd done. How had Cole put it? Cold... the cold had killed and cracked that flame, which was sputtering anyway, and it was time to move on.

"Good Night, Marian." He whispered, closing his eyes.

"Mmf Varric hmm" she mumbled back.

~*~

Varric woke the next morning, blinking. He frowned a little when he realized he was alone. Sitting up, he noticed a glass of water on his bedside table, a sheet of paper laying behind it. Varric could see Hawke's familiar scrawl on the page. Varric reached for the glass and then the page, sipping while he read.

Varric,

Thanks for the bed last night. Much more comfortable and warmer than the cots down in the barracks. I know you, don't over think the situation with Bianca. And Andraste's Ass, don't shoot her. Maker knows, its hard, and I'm holding back, not doing it myself. I hope I can find Warden Stroud without problems. I haven't heard from him in ages, he just suddenly dropped off the face of Thedas. I'll see you in Crestwood.

MH

Varric chuckled and got up to use his water closet, washed his face and started getting dressed for the day. Once presentable, he went to the Great Hall and filled a plate at the side board. One thing he missed when he was in the field with Corwyn was fresh hot food. He'd learned that the elf couldn't cook. He didn't much like to cook, but was capable. Bull and Dorian, surprisingly, could cook camp meals pretty well.

Varric made his way to 'his' table and sat down. He pulled a piece of paper over and quickly scratched out a note to send to Rivaini. He wanted somebody he trusted kept in the loop regarding where Hawke was, and where she was headed. The pirate would disseminate the information to Broody, Daisy, Avaline, Junior, and Choirboy up in Starkhaven. Blondie, of course, was no longer receiving mail.

Once he was done with that he sealed the paper and set it aside to bring up to Leliana and send out by bird. Convenient having that around, especially now that he didn't need to keep Hawke secret. As soon as he'd finished sealing it, a shadow fell over him.

Varric looked up into the concerned face of the Inquisitor. "What can I do for you, your Inquizitorialness?"

"Did Hawke go?"

"Yea. She should be in Crestwood in two or three days."

"Everything ok with Bianca?"

"I'm glad to have answers, but... shit. The second she showed up here I knew. I just... I let this mess happen. I gave her the thaig. And I am not good at dealing with shit like this." Varric said, his good mood from last night souring.

"Nobody is." Corwyn didn't seem to notice.

"If Cassandra hadn't dragged me here, I'd be in Kirkwall right now, pretending none of this was happening."

"You know that's not true. You've worked as hard as any of us to stop Corypheus." The Inquisitor looked concerned now.

"Is that true? I don't even know anymore. Thank you for your help back there." Varric wiped his face with his hand.

"After all this, do you think you'll see Bianca again?" The Inquisitor asked.

"Maker, could you, after all that?"

"Probably not." A small smile on the elf's lips. "Be ready to go in three days."

"Whenever you're ready."