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All hope was lost, one inch further and the Inquisitor would be short one head.
“That’s enough!”
The Tevinter mage looked up in shock. Before him stood the most magnificent woman he had ever seen: tall and muscular with short, black hair and strong cheekbones. The only flaw in her beauty was a scar on her cheek, and even that only seemed to make her all the more perfect.
“I am a Seeker of Truth, and I am here to put an end to this madness.” Her voice was thick and breathy with a heavy Nevarran accent.
Cassandra Pentaghast slammed the book onto the table in front of her, her vision swimming with rage. Of all the lines Varric had crossed, this was the last. If he thought he could get away with openly mocking her in his latest serial he was sorely mistaking.
She stormed out of the courtyard and into Skyhold, finding the blonde dwarf lounging in his usual chair by the fire.
He looked up just as she reached him, her fist immediately grabbing him by the neck.
“This time you have gone too far, Varric.” She spat, her face inches from his.
He struggled in her grasp and she let him go, feeling a slight tinge of pleasure at the sight of him stumbling backwards.
“What are you talking about?” He choked, rubbing his throat with his hands.
She pulled out the book and shoved it in his face. “This.”
Varric’s eyes froze on the novel, studying it for a long while before inching their way up to the Seeker’s.
“You…you’ve read it?” He asked in disbelief.
Cassandra scoffed, “Of course I’ve read it. It’s about the Inquisitor, about all of us! How could I not?”
Varric turned to look into the fire, his voice lacking all of its usual fight. “And it made you that upset, did it?”
Cassandra couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It took every ounce of strength to refrain from strangling the dwarf where he stood.
“So I’m supposed to just sit by while you openly mock me in a work read by thousands?”
His gaze snapped back to hers, his mouth hanging open. “Mock you? Where did you get an idea like that?”
Cassandra fumbled with the book, opening it to the passage so clearly describing her. “What else would you call this?”
Varric stared at the passage, and then at Cassandra, and then back at the passage. Eventually he closed his eyes, bringing his hand to his face. He started to make shallow breathing noises, and for a second Cassandra thought he was crying, but then she realized he wasn’t crying, he was laughing.
“Are you serious?” He exclaimed, shaking his head as he laughed. Passerbys in the hall looked over at them in curiosity and Cassandra felt her cheeks grow warm.
“I assure you I am.” She said flatly.
Varric finally opened his eyes and fixed them on her. “And I suppose the best way to mock you would be to call you beautiful then?”
“What?” Cassandra sputtered, feeling her cheeks grow hotter. “What are you talking about?”
Varric rolled his eyes and grabbed the book from her, jamming his finger at the description of her. Cassandra reluctantly scanned it again.
And gulped. For once, he wasn’t lying. He had called her beautiful.
“Well.” She stammered, “That is hardly what I want people to think of me.”
“Cassandra,” Varric started in a smooth voice, reaching out to grab her hand. “How much more clear do I need to make it?”
Cassandra’s heart was pounding, and she took a step back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The words sounded weak even to her.
Varric sighed. “Do I need to write your character falling in love with a ridiculously handsome dwarf storyteller?”
Her breath caught in her throat. Of all the things she had expected when she came over to have it out with Varric, this was the last of them.
“I- um,” Words wouldn’t come to her. She looked down and rubbed the back of her head, trying to figure out not only what to say but what she was feeling.
“Oh come on,” Varric laughed, “You can’t tell me it’s unexpected.”
Cassandra looked back at him, biting her lip. Varric’s mouth fell open.
“Seriously!?” He yelled, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands.
“What was I supposed to think?!” Cassandra yelled back, “All you do is tease me.”
“Only because I like you!” He blurted, causing a nearby noblewoman to swoon. Cassandra shot her a glare before looking back at the dwarf. All traces of amusement were gone from his face, replaced instead with a look of desperation, and possibly disappointment.
“Oh. Well. “ She started, wishing she could use Alexius’s time magic to start the entire conversation over again. “I didn’t know that.”
Varric sighed. “You’ve made that perfectly clear.”
He stared at her expectantly, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t figure out how to put her feelings into words. Truthfully, she had never thought about Varric in such a manner. He was always so distant and full of secrets, she spent most of her time just trying to figure him out, something she apparently had utterly failed at. But now that the idea was in her mind she had to admit it wasn’t an unappealing one. He was an attractive man, and although she didn’t always agree with his methods there was never any doubt about the validity of his intentions.
Varric groaned and ran his hand through his hair and started to leave. All eyes in the hall were now on them, and Cassandra’s face felt like it was on fire.
“Wait!” She yelled. A chorus of gasps echoed from the crowd.
Varric looked over his shoulder at her, his lips pouting.
“I, um.” She stepped closer to him.
Varric turned around, looking up at her expectantly.
Cassandra swallowed hard, and bent down to press her lips against his cheek.
Varric’s hand came up to cup her face, following her as she pulled away.
The watching crowd erupted in “oohs” and “awws,” with more than one noble dabbing a tear out of the corner of their eye. Varric’s face had started to match Cassandra’s in colour.
“Maybe you should write the Seeker falling in love with a dwarf storyteller,” She said as she started to leave.
Varric grinned, “I can do that.”
Cassandra paused at the door, “Just one thing. Make sure he has plenty of chest hair.”