Work Text:
“Varric.”
The dwarf jumped in his seat, the ink from his quill spattering the page as he leapt up. He turned to find Cole standing behind him.
“Geez kid,” he laid a hand on his heart. “A little warning next time!”
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to make more noise.” Cole paused, pulling at a loose thread on his cuff. Varric expected him to say something, whether it be questions about being human or words reflecting his own fears, but he said nothing.
“Is there something you needed?” the dwarf asked.
“You’re a writer,” the statement sounded more like a question.
“I’d certainly like to think so,” Varric chuckled.
“And people read your stories: words becoming memories not their own but still memories, forever alive with each retelling, each new person remembering.”
“What can I say? I can paint a pretty picture with my storytelling.”
“Like Hawke. People remember Hawke because you’ve written about her. Sarcasm tipped words but a kind heart beneath the barbs, my best friend, never should have written to her, should have told her to run away.”
Varric winced, feeling his heart sink to his stomach. He’d live with that guilt for the rest of his days. Maybe if he hadn’t written to her she would still be in hiding, somewhere safe. She probably would have come anyway.
Cole flinched. “I made the hurt worse.”
Varric waved it off and sighed. “It hurts either way. It’s better than everyone tiptoeing around me.” He patted his fellow rogue on the shoulder. “This is one pain you can’t fix Kid.”
Cole nodded, contemplating. He looked through his hair. “She lives on because they remember her, because you remember her. She can’t really be gone if she’s still with you.” Varric stared at Cole, not saying anything. How could he? He couldn’t find the words to explain it, but his heart felt just a tiny bit lighter.
“Yeah, I guess she is.” Varric coughed awkwardly into his hand. All this barefaced emotion was a little too much for him when he usually kept them buried. “So was there anything else you wanted to talk about? Wanted to try knock-knock jokes again?”
Cole paused for a moment before speaking. “I wanted to ask...will you write about the Breach, about the Inquisition?”
“Of course, someone has to set the record straight.”
“…about me?” Cole asked timidly.
Ah. That explained the questions. Varric smiled. “Can’t properly write the story without you in it, can I?”
Cole smiled, small but sweet and filled with hope.
“So people will remember me?”
“Definitely.”