Chapter Text
“Varric hums a melody under his breath, recalling the untellable tale of how Bianca got her name. Few things focus Varric as much.”
– Description for “Bianca’s Song” ability in DA:II
7 Bloomingtide, 9:26
V,
I've found your way into the woods.
Copy enclosed.
My man will take payment when he delivers this to you.
- R.D.
Of everything Varric had organized so far as Bartrand’s spymaster, this was the riskiest. It was also going to be the most lucrative if he succeeded.
When he succeeded. He just needed a door – a lock.
One of Varric’s contacts had heard through the grapevine – a friend of a friend of a friend – about a Smith caste girl who had a way with mechanics, especially those with fine detail work. She was young enough that her skills weren’t known much farther than her family, but talented enough to make her an option. If Varric was lucky, she wouldn’t know her worth.
He found her in her father’s workshop, stoking the fire in the forge. It was early in the morning and not many people were on the road.
“Bianca Davri?” He asked.
She startled a bit at first, but smiled. “Can I help you?”
He rubbed his chin to hide his smile. This will be easy.
But it wasn’t. She put him on the defensive, peppering him with questions and scoffing at his answers. He rose to her challenge, both of them trying so hard to prove they weren't impressed with each other.
“Tethras, huh? Paragon's bastard. Is that supposed to mean something to me?”
He felt his eyebrows raise. Oh? “It means this job will be worth your time.”
“But what is the job? I get that it’s secret, but I need to know what it is.”
“It’s a lock.”
“A lock?” She raised an eyebrow. “That’s it? You made it out like I was going to be assassinating someone.”
Varric grinned. “Is that one of your skills, my lady?”
She rolled her eyes. “So you need a lock.”
“Not just any lock. I need it to be impossible to break, impossible to open, and it needs to look old. Ancient, even.”
She rubbed a thumb over her knuckles and he could almost see the gears in her head, drawing up plans, but she wasn’t done. “Why? I’m assuming you’re trying to rob someone? Trick them into thinking something’s older, more valuable than it is?”
He threw a hand to his heart, feigned injury. “Madam, you wound me. I’m no thief.”
“As good as. Or you wouldn’t need so much secrecy.”
“I think the less you know about it, the better. All I need is a lock.”
Bianca knew her worth, unfortunately, and she knew he wanted her for her virtually unknown status – and her silence – even more than for her skills.
When he finally named a price, she laughed, crossing her ankles and leaning against the workbench before him.
“More,” she said, head shaking.
He gave more.
She raised an eyebrow. “More.”
Varric had gritted his teeth at that. Maker’s balls, there have got to be easier smiths to work with. But he named a higher price.
“Mo-ore.” She had sang that, the look on her face infuriating.
He leaned forward, gloved finger nearly poking her in the sternum. “Listen. That price is more than reasonable – it’s practically extortion.”
“Extortion, says the thief.”
“I’m not-“
The creak of a door and a man’s voice. “Bianca?”
She edged so far away from Varric’s hand at her chest she was nearly doing a backbend over the workbench. “Papa!”
Papa?
Varric straightened, replacing his frustration with charm. “Pleased to meet you, Serah Davri.” He extended his hand, smiling. “I was just discussing some work I needed commissioned with your daughter here.”
“Ah!” The man came over, shaking his hand and putting an arm around his girl. “Bianca’s work is top-notch, I assure you. She’s nearly better than I am, and learning every day.” The pride glowing on his face made his daughter’s cheeks redden. “What can we do you for, Serah…”
“Tethras. Varric Tethras.”
Bianca’s father’s eyes went wide. “Messere. What can I, or my daughter, do for you, Lord Tethras?”
“We were almost finished.” He grinned. “I was just waiting for her to accept my offer.”
“What offer is that?”
“She’s to make a locking mechanism for the entrance to one of my mining operations.” And Varric named his price again.
His original price.
“Andraste’s ass! That’s not what we-“
“Bianca!” The wide look in her father’s eyes told Varric he had already won. “His offer is generous. Why have you not accepted?”
“Papa…”
Serah Davri turned back to Varric. “Of course she will accept.”
He held out his hand to the girl. “Will she?”
Bianca ground her teeth, but thrust her hand into his.
Varric clasped both hands around hers, running his thumb along her palm in a caress.
Bianca ripped her hand back like he'd burned her.