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He thinks he should feel cold. This whole place just looked uncomfortable and cold. Probably wet. Musty. All the things a city dweller like him hated.
Still, he kept walking. Floating. Whatever.
Not like he had a real destination in mind, but if he could find a rip in the fade, that would be pretty swell. At the very least, a guidebook or marker of some kind to tell him where the hell he was would be nice too.
As Varric trudged through the desolate landscape of the Fade, he couldn't help but chuckle to himself. "Look at me, a dwarf in the Fade. If only Bartrand could see me now," he muttered, his voice echoing oddly in the eerie stillness.
The thought of his brother brought a pang of nostalgia, and for a moment, Varric found himself longing for the familiar streets of Kirkwall. The Hanged Man, with its questionable ale and even more questionable clientele, seemed like a paradise compared to this place.
He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. Dwelling on the past wouldn't do him any good here. He needed to focus on finding a way out, a way back to the land of the living. There was a war going on, and while he’d meant everything he’d said about Rook doing a damn fine job leading them, he still felt like he was needed.
As he wandered through the twisted landscape, Varric's thoughts drifted to Hawke. His heart ached at the memory of her fierce determination, her quick wit, and the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled at him.
"Ah, Hawke," he sighed. "I hope you're giving the demons in this blasted place hell. Maybe if I follow the loudest screams, I’ll finally find you.”
Time seemed to have lost all meaning for him in this strange place. He had no idea how long he had been there or even if he was truly alive, or just a floating wisp among the myriad of spirits around him. His only goal was to find Marian, but the vastness of this realm made it seem like an impossible task.
As he drifted through the ethereal landscape, he couldn't help but take notice of the blighted vines and demons that seemed to be dwindling in number. The once dark and foreboding surroundings were slowly being overtaken by peaceful and benevolent spirits, offering a glimmer of hope in this mysterious afterlife.
Settling into one area, he observed his surroundings with curiosity and intrigue. Without the need for basic human functions like eating or sleeping, he found himself with little else to do but observe. As time passed, more and more spirits appeared where he waited, their voices attempting to reach out and communicate with him. Their words often confused him, but their presence offered some comfort in this unfamiliar realm.
As he stood there, a sense of foreboding washed over him as a giant rift appeared in the shimmering veil that separated their worlds. He couldn't help but consider running through it, despite the potential dangers that lay beyond. His mind raced through countless scenarios, his heart pounding with adrenaline.
And then, to his disbelief, Solas emerged from the rift. A wave of emotions crashed over him in an instant—anger, betrayal, confusion—and for a split second, he imagined taking revenge on the man who had deceived them all. The urge to rush forward and confront him, to let Solas see what it was like to have a dagger stabbed in his chest, was almost overwhelming.
However, his eyes caught on another figure standing next to him. It was Ellana Lavellan, the sweet kid, who had given so much to Thedas in her efforts to clean up after the mess Solas had left behind. Her gaze was fixed on the elf next to her, radiating pure and unwavering love that was almost blinding in its intensity, like gazing directly into the sun.
He couldn’t take that away from her.
He sighed and strolled (floated?) up to the pair.
“Chuckles. Inquisitor.”
“Varric?! Gods, it is you!” Ellana teared up. “I had heard from Rook that you... died." This was said with a very fierce glare at her elf, like the man had simply put his shoes up on the bed, not stabbed one of her dear friends.
“I did. I’m dead, pretty sure. You can have Solas here verify it.”
Solas cringed, but to his credit, he looked him straight in the eyes. It was then that Varric noticed how beat up the elves were. They’d either died themselves or came straight from a fight.
“Varric. I am truly sorry for my actions. My regrets are numerous, and just know that what happened with you was both unintended and something that I will never forgive myself for. Nor do I expect your forgiveness, but I hope you can get past it enough for your spirit to find its purpose.”
Varric considered many different replies. Some witty, some just mean as fuck. What could you honestly say to the man that killed you?
Varric shrugged, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Well, Chuckles, I'd say I'm surprised, but we both know that'd be a lie. You always did have a knack for causing trouble."
He turned his attention to Ellana, his expression softening. "I'm sorry you had to hear about it like that, Inquisitor. I would've sent a message, but the Fade's postal service is pretty lacking."
Ellana let out a watery chuckle, wiping at her eyes. "I'm just glad to see you, Varric. Even if it's under these circumstances."
Varric nodded, his gaze drifting back to Solas. "As for you, Solas... I won't say I forgive you, because honestly, I don't. But I understand why you did what you did. You believed in your cause and were willing to do anything for it. That's something I can respect, even if I don't agree with your methods. Or the cause. And hey, at least now I get to explore the Fade without being possessed by a demon. Silver linings and all that."
Solas bowed his head, a mixture of gratitude and regret etched on his features. "Thank you, Varric. Your understanding means more than you know. I only wish we could have met again under better circumstances."
Ellana stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Varric's shoulder. "Varric, we came here to stay. At least for a while. Solas's lifeforce now anchors the veil. As long as he is alive, the veil will hold and the world will be safe. We may stay forever, or we may only stay until Solas feels his penance has been paid. We will be working to repair what we can from the inside.”
Varric raised an eyebrow, considering the implications of Ellana's words. "So, let me get this straight. You two lovebirds are going to be playing house in the Fade, trying to fix the mess Solas made? And here I thought retirement would be boring."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, far be it from me to stand in the way of true love and world-saving heroics. If you need any help navigating this lovely vacation spot, just give me a holler. I've been wandering around long enough to know a thing or two."
Ellana smiled, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you, Varric. We'd be honored to have your guidance. And your company, of course. It's been far too long since we've had a chance to catch up."
Solas nodded, a hint of a smile. “I have thought of a gift that I might offer as well, to ease your burden that I have caused you.”
The empty patch of land in front of them shimmered as Solas gracefully waved his hand. The ground seemed to ripple and shift, transforming into a familiar sight—the Hanged Man Tavern.
"A tavern? You'd think someone with your power could come up with something more exciting." Varric quipped with a wry grin.
Solas returned the smile, gesturing towards the building. "The Tavern is only a small part of the gift. The true treasure lies within."
Varric raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the mysterious elf's words. "Alright, I'll play along. But if I'm not impressed, I'm coming up with a ridiculous new nickname for you. How does 'Barky' sound?" He chuckled, already brainstorming other silly monikers.
Solas simply chuckled in response, leading Varric towards the entrance of the tavern with an air of anticipation and mystery. As they stepped inside, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filled their ears.
“Tethras. Took you long enough to find me. Come meet my dad before he and Bartrand get into a another fight over politics that don’t even matter anymore.”
Varric’s breath catches in his throat, and he stares unblinking at the utter vision before him.
There she is. Sitting at their usual table in the hanged man, tankards and cards all over the table. Her hair is a little longer than he’d last seen it, but she looks healthy and happy. She beams at him, her blue eyes crinkled.
“Hawke,” he half whispers, his voice failing him.
Marian is sitting with two men that have her blue eyes—her father Malcolm and her brother Carver. For some reason, his brother Bartrand is sitting with them, but he looks up when Varric speaks and nods.
“Saved ya some of this fade slop. Tastes like nug droppings, but it gets the job done. Ma and Father will want you to swing by when we’re done here.”
Varric stares in awe. His family? His… his Hawke. They’re all here.
Marian’s eyes soften in understanding. She always got him.
“Come sit, love.”
Varric felt his feet moving before his mind could fully catch up, carrying him to the table where Hawke and their families awaited. As he slid into the seat beside Marian, her hand immediately found his, their fingers intertwining as if no time had passed at all.
"I can't believe it," Varric murmured, his eyes roaming over the faces of his loved ones. "How is this possible?"
Marian leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Solas found a way to bring us together. He said it was the least he could do after everything. Did the weird fade shit where he spoke in my head, and in an instant we were all here."
Varric glanced back at the elven mage, who stood near the entrance with Ellana, watching the reunion with a mixture of joy and sorrow in his eyes. "I guess I owe you one, Chuckles," Varric called out, raising his eyes to the elf.
“You owe me nothing, my friend. I did something unforgiveable, and my debt is endless.”
Varric turns back to Marian, drinking in her face. “Are you…alive? Or dead like I’m dead or...”
"I believe I'm somewhere in between, just like you. Technically I was alive, but I’m fairly certain I’m dead now. But also sort of alive enough to keep my shape and consciousness? Merrill is able to conjure me up pretty easily without me changing.”
“Wait, she conjures you?”
Marian shrugs. “It’s a pretty new thing. I told her to make me a tiny dragon that sits on her shoulders.”
Varric chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "Of course you did, Hawke. I'm sure Daisy is thrilled to have a miniature version of you causing mischief."
Marian grinned, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "She loves it, and you know it. But enough about me, how have you been holding up in this lovely little corner of the Fade?"
Varric let out a heavy sigh, sinking back into the plush cushions of his chair. "Just wandering around. Not exactly the most thrilling afterlife, but it's better than the alternative."
Malcolm Hawke leaned forward, his warm eyes filled with understanding. "It takes some time to adjust, but eventually you'll find your place here. We all did."
Varric furrowed his brow in thought. "Do you think we'll stay like this forever, or will we be reborn somewhere else?"
Marian chimed in with excitement. "Ooh, I hope we get to be different races! Can I be a dwarf this time?"
"Sure," Varric chuckled. "But I'm going for something giant like a Qunari. Wanna see what it's like up there."
Marian grinned mischievously. "Just imagine all the fun we could have if you were that big and..."
Malcolm cleared his throat pointedly, reminding them of his presence at the table.
"Your father is still here, my dear."
Varric laughed heartily, the sound echoing through the tavern as he reveled in the familiar banter with Hawke. "Sorry, sir. Your kid here is always getting me into trouble.”
Bartrand rolled his eyes, taking a swig from his tankard. "If you two lovebirds are done making eyes at each other, maybe we can get down to business. There's got to be more to this Fade than just sitting around and drinking."
Carver nodded in agreement, his brow furrowed in thought. "Bartrand’s right. We should explore and see what else is out there. Maybe we can find a way to help the living from this side."
Marian leaned forward, her eyes alight with excitement. "I like the way you think, little brother. We could be the Fade's very own band of merry adventurers, righting wrongs and causing just the right amount of trouble."
Varric chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "Some things never change, do they Hawke? Even in death, you're still itching for a good adventure."
Marian grinned, bumping her shoulder against his. "What can I say? Old habits die hard. Plus, we've got an eternity to explore this place. Might as well make the most of it. Especially now that I have my favorite dwarf back where he belongs."
Malcolm smiled warmly at his children, pride shining in his eyes. "I think it's a wonderful idea. We have a unique opportunity here to make a difference, even from the other side of the veil."
“And we will be here to help,” Ellana added softly from behind him.
Varric turned and met her eye. She smiled gently.
“Solas and I will be your guides and teach you how to interact with the beyond without compromising your souls. For now, the world is defended, and you can live a full life on this side of the veil without worry for as long as you wish, until you’re ready to move on.”
Varric smiled, feeling truly at peace for the first time since he had found himself in the Fade. With Hawke by his side and their families united, the prospect of exploring this strange new world didn't seem so daunting anymore. In fact, it felt like the beginning of a grand adventure, one that he was more than ready to embark upon.
He lifted Marian’s hand to his mouth for a kiss—all he felt safe to do in the presence of her father—and grinned.
“Alright. I’m in. I vote we turn Bartrand into the next Manfred, though.”