Kirkwall

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28 Drakonis, 9:42

"Curly, wait up!"

Cullen turned at the sound of Varric's voice. He wasn't fond of the nickname the dwarf had chosen for him, but he had seen other people attempt to duck those nicknames and it never worked, so he seemed to have little choice but to live with it.

"Something I can do for you, Varric?"

"Well, I'm putting together a little ... gathering tonight, and I thought you might want to join in."

"I'm afraid I have plans for the evening." Without entirely meaning to, Cullen found himself grinning broadly at the idea of those plans. They weren't anything particularly unusual, but he loved the long evenings with Antonia—making love, playing chess, talking. Even lying side by side in bed reading was a joy he had never encountered before.

"Please. As though I wouldn't include her, too."

Part of Cullen felt disappointed at the idea of having to share Antonia even for an evening, but he knew how ridiculous that was. And another part of him was flattered to be included—even if it was only for her sake—and looked foward to an evening spent with friends. That, too, was a rarity in his life.

"All right. If the In—If Antonia agrees, then you can count me in."

Varric nodded, looking pleased.

Cullen could imagine the dwarf must miss Kirkwall—living at the Hanged Man, he'd had the whole of Kirkwall at his fingertips, as everyone who was anyone in all walks of life went slumming there regularly. Cullen himself had only been there on matters of duty, usually hunting down young Templars who had passed out and forgotten to come back to the Gallows. There had been that long weekend with Isabela, but he hadn't really seen much of the tavern in that circumstance.

Now Varric spent his days writing in the main hall, but it really wasn't the same. Very little went on at Skyhold that everyone didn't know about, so there wasn't as much use for an extensive network of spies and contacts. And while the Inquisitor's companions got together semi-regularly, Hawke's people had met more or less every night, even after Hawke and Fenris had taken up residence together.

Circumstances had a lot to do with that—Hawke had started out in Lowtown, one of the people, eager to get away from her uncle's hovel. Antonia had started out already the Herald of Andraste, already nobility. More to the point, he supposed, Antonia had grown up essentially as an only child, and was comfortable keeping her own counsel; Hawke had grown up as one of several siblings, and enjoyed having some noise around her. So while Antonia liked spending time with her people, she also seemed to need some time to herself, as well, which meant gatherings were regularly scheduled rather than constant.

All of which often left Varric at somewhat loose ends.

"Do you hear much from your friends in Kirkwall?" Cullen asked abruptly.

Varric raised his eyebrows. "Occasionally. Aveline writes to yell at me for the characterizations in Swords & Shields ... and beg for more chapters. She and Donnic are trying to repopulate Kirkwall on their own—two boys already, and apparently she's considering working on the next."

"How is she managing pregnancy, toddlers, and being Viscount?"

"You know Aveline. No challenge big enough."

"An excellent point." Cullen chuckled.

"Hawke and Fenris are still in Weisshaupt, although I think he's convinced her not to become a Grey Warden." Varric frowned. "No clue why she wanted to in the first place, or how she ended up working with Stroud. There's a lot about that whole thing I don't understand."

Cullen thought about the rest of Hawke's companions. The renegade Grey Warden, Anders, was dead, as was the former prince of Starkhaven, killed in the explosion of the Chantry.

"I take it Isabela is terrorizing the high seas again?"

"She seems to be. She's got Hawke's sister with her, and they seem pretty happy. Which steams Hawke quite a bit, but ..." Varric shrugged. "What are you going to do?"

Cullen remembered Bethany, who had spent her years in the Gallows as the paramour of Orsino, the First Enchanter, and had briefly been First Enchanter herself after Orsino's death. "I can't say I'm surprised. She enjoyed learning, but never seemed all that suited to life in the Circle."

"Rivaini agreed with you; she kept climbing the tower to Sunshine's quarters until she got her to agree to come down. Hm." Varric looked thoughtful. "There might be a story in that."

"No doubt."

"Daisy's in Denerim, in the Alienage. I hear from her sometimes. Longer letters than Aveline's, less salty than Rivaini's. She's doing good work, has a purpose in life. All that good stuff."

"Do you have any plans to go back to Kirkwall?"

"For what? Skyhold's where things are happening these days, and there's so little Merchant's Guild presence that I only get dunned for debt three times a week." Varric sighed. "Kirkwall without Hawke ... why bother?"

Cullen had to admit that he found it hard to imagine what Kirkwall must be like without the Champion's presence; she had epitomized so much of his own experiences in the city that it was hard to think of them separately.

Varric was looking as melancholy as Cullen had ever seen him, and Cullen felt a bit guilty about that. "So ... this gathering this evening," he said. "What exactly are we doing?"

"Hm?" Varric looked at him with a start. "Oh. You play Wicked Grace, don't you?"

"The Chantry frowns on games of chance, especially those with the word 'wicked' in the title." With some difficulty, Cullen managed to keep a straight face.

"Oh." Varric actually looked crestfallen.

Cullen allowed a bit of a smile to show. "But it's possible that late at night in the barracks—"

"Please, Curly, some things I just don't need to envision."

"I was going to say that I managed to supplement my income quite nicely on Wicked Grace winnings. I don't know what you were thinking ... except that you clearly are a very dirty-minded dwarf."

"What can I say? It's a living." Varric grinned. "So, you think you're pretty good, then?"

"At Wicked Grace? I believe I can hold my own. And yes, I've heard about you and the Iron Bull and your exceptional cheating skills in some detail."

Varric was eyeing him speculatively now, and Cullen rather regretted being so cocky about the game. It had been a long time, after all, and Antonia's people played cards regularly while on expedition.

"Good luck, Curly. You're going to need it."

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