Chapter Text
Shit.
The word echoed in Varric’s head as he thought over the events of the past week. No, every moment since he had written to Bianca about the location of the Thaig where he had first encountered red lyrium. There had been no way he could have foreseen everything that would have happened, everything that had led up to Corypheus getting his spidery hands on the worst thing he could think of and use it to pervert the world further.
As soon as he thought it, a voice whispered at the back of his mind and he knew that wasn’t the truth. Memories of Bartrand locking him to die in that Thaig came surging back to the forefront of his mind. The dwarf exhaled noisily as he paused in his thinking to drag a hand down his face as he stared into the campfire in front of him, his hand resting over his mouth as he watched the dancing flames. With as bad as red lyrium was, he should have expected the worst to happen. He should have known and seen this coming.
A flash of hurt went through him at that as a part of his mind protested, saying that he shouldn’t have had to expect the worst. When you tell a loved one something important, you expect them to listen. To heed the warnings that he expressed so vehemently.
But no, he had warned and he had been ignored. Again.
What good were all the words he could write and express if the one person who was supposed to trust him, heed him, just ignored him any way?
More pain went through his frame at that. The magnitude of just how much he mattered, or rather the opposite, was rather crushing. He swallowed thickly and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the thought that burned his eyes and made his chest heavy with the implications. What good were all the words in the world if the one person he wanted to listen the most tossed them over her shoulder like rubbish? He sighed and scrubbed at his face as he sat up straighter, a muttered “shit” under his breath.
Cassandra pursed her lips as she looked up from the book in her hands. She’d read the same page twice over now, and still hadn’t taken in the words. Though she wouldn’t admit it out loud, she was concerned about Varric. What they’d found out that day obviously bothered him more than he wanted to let on. He’d been too quiet, a rare thing for the dwarf. Usually she had to tell him that he talked too much. Now, well, she almost felt compelled to prod him, to try to get him to talk.
She chewed the inside corner of her mouth, wishing Solas or the Inquisitor would say something. She cast a glance at each of them; Solas seemed almost as deep in thought as Varric, and the Inquisitor just met Cassandra’s gaze and shrugged her shoulders.
Cassandra looked down at the book in her hands again, her eyes scanning over the page once more, but it was far too quiet. She couldn’t concentrate. She never would have believed that she needed some sort of noise to be able to read. Finally, she decided she could stand the silence no longer. “Everyone is very quiet this evening,” she said in what she hoped was a casual tone as she squared her shoulders without looking up from her book.
Solas blinked out of his thoughts at Cassandra’s voice cutting through the silence. He spared a glance at her before his gaze flickered over to the unusually quiet child of the stone. He knew that the knowledge of what they had uncovered that day had shaken them all. He himself knew all too well how the dwarf was feeling, how one’s actions from so long ago could have catastrophic events in the present day. “I believe that we all are still contemplating the events that occurred in Valammar. To discover where Corypheus obtained red lyrium completes a piece of the puzzle that was previously missing, however disconcerting that knowledge may be to some. I believe what the Inquisitor said earlier is true, the damage is already done. The only thing left to be done is to do our best to undo that damage as best as we can moving forward.”
Cassandra pressed her lips thin and looked down at her book again. So much for trying to spark a conversation. She stared blankly at the page, her mind turning over all the information they’d learned that day. It was a bit strange, to meet the real Bianca, to have a face to put with the name now. Though now she almost wished she hadn’t met her. She didn’t know if it was the way Bianca spoke to Varric, to the Inquisitor, or if it was because she’d lied about being the leak, but she didn’t much care for Varric’s love interest. Not that it was any of her business, but something about Bianca was just off-putting. And something else about Bianca bothered her as well… “Varric,” she started without looking up from her book, “Am I to understand that Bianca is… married?”
Hearing the name of the woman he was contemplating only served to irk Varric more than he already was. He could feel his companion’s eyes on him and Maker knew what they were all thinking. He felt an uncharacteristic heat flash across his cheeks as he glanced over at their expectant looks. After his conversation with the Inquisitor, some time ago, about doing better for the Inquisition after Cassandra called him out when he lied about Hawke, he felt more of a failure because he had trusted and it had been thrown back in his face. Bitterly he sat up straighter and gave a haughty look over at the Seeker. He didn’t need a lecture. He needed time to think, to process. “Oh, have we reached the state where we gossip about each other’s love lives?”
He said it with a bit more venom than he intended, but he couldn’t stop it. They had been doing better, leaps and bounds since the Inquisitor convinced him to write the next chapter of Swords and Shields for the Seeker. Part of him screamed at himself that he was undoing everything he had been working on while the other half just said fuck it. Everything was already going to hell anyway and he knew they were probably already thinking that, once again, the dwarf had fucked everything up.
Cassandra raised an eyebrow at his sharp retort and looked up from her book. It was as if she could see the betrayal, the anger, and the hurt written all over his face. And for once, she had a rare, fleeting rush of sympathy for him. This wasn’t like him. Perhaps it was best to just leave him alone. And besides, she certainly didn’t want to discuss her own love life (or lack thereof) with anyone. Least of all him. “Forget I said anything,” she said sharply and crossed one leg over the other as she looked at her book again.
Solas watched the exchange, sharing a look with the Inquisitor as Varric stood up and stalked off to a tent at the edge of camp, disappearing inside. He sat up straighter and looked to the others. “I believe Master Tethras just needs some time to think over the events that have occurred. It is never easy to have one’s trust betrayed by one who is supposed to respect it. He most likely is shouldering the weight of Bianca’s mistakes as his own.” He waved his hand dismissively in the air. “But I do not presume to know the finer details of the circumstances between the two of them.”
“I don’t need to know the ‘finer details’ to know that she’s a bitch,” Ellana said bitterly as she firmly crossed her arms over her chest. A frown pulled at the corners of her mouth. “She lied to Varric. Lied to all of us, trying to get us to fix her mistake. Did you hear how she talked to him? Then - THEN!” she said, shifting around on the log she sat on, her voice going a bit higher as anger made her cheeks flush, “That bitch has the nerve to say to me that if I get Varric killed, she’ll feed me my own eyeballs! Right, because she’s innocent, isn’t she? It’s not like she gave the red lyrium to Corypheus.” The Inquisitor paused and rolled her eyes. “Feed me my own eyeballs. Try it, bitch,” she muttered under her breath. “I’ll open up a Fade rift on your head and feed you to the demons.”
Solas covered a laugh as a cough. “Indeed, vhenan.” His smile fell a moment later as he spared a glance at the tent that the dwarf had disappeared into. “Far be it from me to wallow in the gossip, but this Bianca of his certainly seemed to know all too well exactly what to say to have Varric come to her aid on the matter. Hardly either one is without blame, but the betrayal on Bianca’s part must be stinging him still. It is never easy to have someone you hold close to your heart betray you in such a fashion.”
“I cannot imagine,” Cassandra said softly. She finally bookmarked her place and set the book aside, giving up on getting any reading done that evening. “I think I shall go to bed,” she said as she stood and stretched slightly. She frowned again at the suggestive look the Inquisitor gave Solas. “Ugh,” she groaned. “I know where I am not sleeping tonight.” No way was she going to sleep in the same tent as those two, especially with the looks they were giving one another. The night before, she’d shared the tent with Ellana. Obviously that was not an option tonight.
She turned on her heel and strode over to the tent Varric had crawled into, and hesitated. Another irritated huff escaped her before she yanked back the flap and stepped in, throwing her bedroll on the ground. “Are you awake?” she asked when she saw him lying flat on his back, his eyes closed. He didn’t answer, but she continued on anyway, “I don’t like this, but I suspect I would like it even less if I had to share a tent with Solas and the Inquisitor.” She kicked her bedroll out flat and laid down on it with a huff. “We’ll just both pretend the other isn’t here. Agreed?” She frowned when only silence met her ears. “Good.”
Of course he wasn’t asleep yet. His thoughts were plaguing him, hounding him to make sleep impossible. The world seemed intent on throwing everything back in his face that day. His heart ached in a terrible way and he lamented that he could never have a normal relationship as it seemed everyone around him did. Normal was overrated, of course, but it would be nice to know what it was like no matter how brief. He let his eyes open and he stared up at the canopy of the tent. “So, you want to bring Bianca up after all that shit today. Does that mean I get to ask about your conquests?” he asked, the touch of venom in his voice making him wince. His anger wasn’t toward Cassandra. Maker knew what she thought of him now, but he really wasn’t in the mood for a lecture. “Sorry,” he muttered.
She’d figured he wasn’t asleep yet. So much for pretending each other wasn’t there. “I have no conquests,” she snipped back at him. Especially none I would share with you, she thought to herself. She rolled to lay on her back, turning her head to look at him. “I thought perhaps you wanted to talk about it. It doesn’t take much to see that you are upset after what happened today. It was not my intention to pry.” She crossed her arms over her chest and, like him, looked up at the canopy over their heads. “I am not used to you being so quiet. It was… disconcerting. I apologize, I do not know what I was thinking. I am not much good at these sorts of things. Comforting others is not my forte. I will not ask about her again. It is not my business.”
Varric gave a groan and rubbed at his face, feeling a flair of anger at her words. “You don’t mean to pry so you bring it up? Yes, very convincing Seeker. Damn right it’s not your business,” he clipped at her, feeling himself bristling, “I thought you would have jumped at the chance to enjoy my silence. How many times have you told me to just zip it and now that I finally want to be quiet, you just aren’t satisfied. I can’t win, can I?” He turned and looked away from her, muttering, “No matter how much good I try to do, it just keeps getting thrown back in my face. So sorry for the inconvenience.”
“Are you not the one who constantly goads me for being unsympathetic?” she countered, then dropped her voice to a low growl to try to imitate him, “Oh, I’ll write this down, Cassandra had a feeling. Tell your friends, if you have any. Did you drag all of the members of the Inquisition here by force?” She stopped and frowned deeper at him, recalling all those things he’d said to her on previous occasions. “Excuse me for trying to be a little sympathetic,” she said, her voice to normal once more. “Remind me not to trouble you again when you finally decide to be quiet.” She huffed and looked at him again before she rolled on her other side. “I was trying to be nice to you, you ass.”
Varric snorted, Bianca’s words from the Thaig entrance that very afternoon coming back to slap him in the face and he couldn’t stop himself as he rolled his eyes. The words spilled from his mouth before his brain had much time to actually process what he was saying, “Yeah, well, we see what happened the last time someone tried to be nice to me, do me a favor and help me out. Better stop now or you might cause me to start up the next blight and destroy the world. Not that I don’t need anything more on my conscience as it is.” He should shut up, the voice in the back of his head nagged at him. Shut up and let her try to soothe over the wound in his soul from that day. It was too soon, too fresh for anything to help. It just made Bianca’s betrayal that more painful.
“Oh yes, poor pitiful you. The only one with anything on his conscience,” she mocked and rolled her eyes. “Because none of the rest of us have ever made a mistake. I couldn’t possibly sympathize with you.” She snorted loudly. “I don’t know why I even bother. If you want to lay there and wallow in your misery, be my guest. Just keep it on your side of the tent.” She crossed her arms and stared hard at the tent wall, absolutely fuming. She was angry with him for being so hateful towards her, and even angrier at herself for caring.
They had only just started to settle into a semi-comfortable angry silence when a new sound met her ears and her eyes widened. Oh, she was not going to lay there and listen to that all night long. Arguing with Varric had to be better to listen to than the sounds coming from the other tent. She promptly turned over towards Varric again. “Why is it that it’s okay for you to poke around in everyone else’s lives but we are not allowed to do the same to you?” she asked, a little too loud in her attempt to drown out Solas and the Inquisitor.
Varric almost had to appreciate the Seeker’s thought process, as he heard exactly what she was trying to cover up when she rolled back over and laid into him again. He was still upset, nothing having the time to settle or even scab over before the Seeker tore fresh wounds for the sake of drowning out their amorous companions. “I don’t go poking around where I’m not wanted, Seeker,” he bit back at her, “I don’t know if you’ve taken the time to notice, but I usually ask, or at least give fair warning before I go bullshitting around in my friend’s lives. Is it that much to ask that I want some Maker damned time to think over everything? I know you think I’ve just fucked up again and you are right, but that doesn’t mean you have to go rubbing it in my face this instant.”
He might as well have slapped her. That wasn’t what she was thinking at all. A scowl crossed her face as the sounds outside their tent grew louder. “You don’t go poking where you aren’t wanted? Yes, because Dorian always seems so thrilled when you ask for details about him and Bull. Blackwall is always willing to share his past when you ask, isn’t he?” she shot back. “You poke whether you’re wanted or not and you damn well know it. It was a simple question. I was only trying to start a conversation so you could get it off your chest.” She huffed at him, feeling angrier by the minute. “And I wasn’t thinking that you messed anything up, just so you know. If I did, I would have already said it by now. But it’s nice to know that you think me so judgmental.”
A headache was coming on, well on its way to making certain that along with Chuckles and the Inquisitor, he wasn’t going to get any sleep that night. He snorted. “Have you met yourself, Seeker? I am pretty sure judgemental is one of your many names,” he retorted and glanced over at her. He could practically see her eyes burning in the darkness of the tent. “And let’s be honest with each other, Seeker. You like honesty, right? The only reason you want to pry into my problems right now is so you can drown out the two lovebirds across the way. Don’t pretend you actually care.”
Cassandra propped herself up on one elbow. “I asked you about this BEFORE they started in. Don’t you remember? When we were outside the tent. Now you’re just twisting things around to make me look like the bad guy here.” She closed her eyes and tried to keep her patience as she heard the Inquisitor call out Solas’s name. “Forget I asked about it. You’re right. I should not care and so I shall stop trying to care. Just do not complain in the future if it seems I do not care then either. This is what I get for - oh for Andraste’s sake. Would you two be quiet?!” she shouted at the tent wall when she heard a particularly loud cry of passion. She glared at Varric again. “Forget it,” she said and flopped back on her bedroll.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the both of them, punctuated by sharp gasps and moans from the tent next to them. As Bianca’s voice played over in his head, pleading with him to understand why she had betrayed his trust and do the one thing he asked her to not do with lyrium, he almost wished he could keep the Seeker arguing with him. As it was, he felt exhausted and he was so damn tired of fighting. His head felt as though someone had shoved hot spikes into his temple. He pushed himself onto his side, decidedly away from the woman. “Gladly,” he muttered, the word heavy upon his lips.