Varric Tethras can't stand holding back the truth about Marian Hawke after the Inquisitor leaves her in the Fade to die. What he can't stand more is no one is trying to get her back. With the assistance of friends in surprising places, he fights in...
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Vows that hold a thousand trials in marriage live in history for both sides of the family. A legacy of trust and no one to deny their loyalty. When he became Viscount of Kirkwall, no one could run his name through Darktown, and no one would dare try it with Hawke. They could have been king and queen for how the Kirkwallers treated them. And some didn't find it particularly convenient for a dwarf and human couple to have such power, especially in public. The people that didn't matter he ignored and the people that did benefitted. After being named viscount, he thought there would be little left to do with his adventures. After saving the world from perilous totalitarianism, a fancy word for 'magical douchebag in charge," he felt a nap under a warm sun next to the love of his life was required for the next decade. But the thing about the world is there's always going to be good people doing good and bad people putting good people in bad situations. He had laid Leandra to rest, but the crossbow stayed close. And Hawke closer. Because with power comes a mighty need for more bolts and a person who can defend himself and his seat won't have his head rolling down the hall at Hawke's feet.
Varric rubs the heel of his boot to stop an itch in his sock, then sips at his ale, before regaling the eyes upon him. He hasn't sat in this throne even when he was announced to the room. He could watch people dance and build networks with glasses of wine, and mouths full of treats, but he's the guy who's deep in the crowd with his tales getting longer the more people listen in. That'll never change. Neither will other things. He feels a gentle squeeze—Hawke had slipped her hand around his when he took a breath after jumping through their final escape to Skyhold, in which he adored the long pause he got to take to build anticipation for the rest of the story.
It's Wintersend and Viscount's Way is the hottest place in the city. Literally. He left his coat spanned across the throne arms. He didn't think it would snow outside—it never snows—but now that it has, the guards seem to have invited everyone inside by the torches, and other heat-conducting torture units. Hawke stands at his side, refusing to sit, and instead is his right-hand goddess statue. There are guards everywhere but in truth, she is his security.
It's been two years since he helped stop Corypheus, and two years since Inquisitor Trevelyan disbanded the Inquisition. He thought he had seen it all.
He was there when Cullen married her.
He was there when Iron Bull betrayed her.
He was there when she found Solas.
Like Hawke, she trusted too much, and cared a lot more. But two friends? One was upfront about being a spy. The other...even he didn't see it coming.
Did Hawke?
She's been acting sweet around him but leave her alone, and the room grows quiet, and sullen. Sometimes she carries that aura with her to parties—like this one—and he wants to say something, but words clutch onto this throat, and they refuse to come out.
She's wearing the winged earrings Bianca gave her. They complement the dress and maybe she wears them as a reminder to seek forgiveness for others, or she feels like his guardian angel—er—hawk. There is always a reason a woman wears something; it's never simple.
