25 Solace 9:37 – 10 Wintermarch 9:38
Varric didn’t have anywhere pressing to be, and part of him still felt a protective pull toward Ariana. Though she was no longer the wide-eyed girl who had first arrived in Kirkwall, some part of her would always be the same pup he had taken under his wing. Watching her navigate the aftermath of Kirkwall, however, was different. The spark of mischief and optimism that had always lived in her eyes was dimmer now, buried under the weight of too many losses and betrayals.
One evening, they found themselves sitting together by the fire in the manor’s quiet library. The room, dimly lit and cozy, carried the faint scent of parchment and old wood—a comforting contrast to the chaos they’d left behind in Kirkwall. The crackle of the fire was the only sound for a while, each lost in their thoughts. The flames cast long shadows on the walls, flickering like ghosts of memories they couldn’t quite escape.
Ariana sat curled in a chair, her knees drawn up slightly, absentmindedly running her thumb along the edge of the pendant that hung from her choker—the constellation Visus, the one Varric had given her years ago. Beside it, the engagement ring now hung on the leather cord, its weight an ever-present reminder of everything she had lost. She glanced at it often, her thoughts caught in an endless loop of questions she couldn’t answer.
Had the petition to the White Spire ever been granted? Had Cullen received their approval for the engagement, or was it still sitting on a desk, forgotten amidst the chaos of Kirkwall? Had there even been a point in sending it? She wondered if it mattered anymore, now that the life they’d dreamed of together had crumbled.
Finally, Varric broke the silence. “You know, pup,” he began, his tone light but laced with meaning, “love stories always have three acts. It’s a classic structure. The couple meets and falls in love, then there’s a big conflict that tears them apart. But eventually, they come back together. It’s just how these things go.”
Ariana chuckled softly, shaking her head. She knew exactly what he was trying to do. “I appreciate it, Varric,” she said, her voice tinged with both gratitude and sadness. “But I think we’re in the fourth act now.”
Varric raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “The fourth act?”
She nodded, her gaze fixed on the fire. “This is the part that no one ever writes. After the love story ends. After the conflict. This is what happens when everything falls apart, and you’re left trying to pick up the pieces.”
Varric leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and regarded her thoughtfully. “Maybe,” he said after a pause. “But if anyone’s stubborn enough to rewrite the ending, it’s you.”
Ariana smiled faintly, though the weight of his words lingered. “We’ll see,” she murmured. “Right now, I think I just need to figure out who I am without him. Without… everything else.”
Her fingers tightened slightly around the pendant and the ring, the weight of the small objects grounding her. “We were almost done planning the wedding, you know?” she added after a moment, her voice soft, almost lost in the crackle of the fire. “It was supposed to be simple. Just us, our friends, our families. Nothing grand. Well as ‘not grand’ as a noble marrying a Knight-Captain could be. Just… ours.”
Varric didn’t interrupt, letting her speak. He knew she needed this, needed to let the words spill out like poison she’d been holding in too long.
“I wonder if they said yes,” she continued, her gaze distant. “The White Spire. Did they grant permission, or did it just get lost in all of this?” She shook her head, her expression turning wistful. “It doesn’t matter now. Even if they did, it’s too late. I lied to him… and he stood with Meredith…”
“Pup,” Varric said gently, his tone carrying the weight of their years of friendship, “if there’s one thing I know about that shiny Templar of yours, it’s that he’d forgive you faster than you forgive yourself. That’s just who he is. But can you forgive him?”
Ariana’s thumb brushed over the ring again, her thoughts looping endlessly. “I keep wondering… what does it mean that I’m still wearing this?” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Am I holding on to what we had, or to what I lost?”
Varric tilted his head, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe both,” he said. “But you’re not exactly the ‘give up easily’ type, Pup. Maybe you’re still figuring out what it means for yourself.”
She smiled faintly, her fingers tightening around the ring. “I wish I’d trusted him more,” she admitted, her voice breaking. “The way Hawke trusted Fenris. But I didn’t, and now…”
“You think that makes you the villain in this story?” Varric cut in gently. “Pup, every story’s got twists and turns. What matters is how you face them. And trust me, your shiny Templar? He’s probably sitting somewhere right now, blaming himself for not standing with you sooner.”
Ariana’s breath hitched, her gaze flickering to the fire. “Do you really think so?”
Varric nodded, leaning forward slightly. “Cullen’s not the kind of guy to walk away from something that matters. And you? You matter, Ariana. Whether you believe it or not.”
She closed her eyes, letting his words sink in. “Then why does it still feel like I’ve failed?”
“Because you’re human,” Varric said simply, leaning back with a knowing smirk. “And humans? You screw up.” He shrugged. “Luckily, I’m a dwarf. We don’t have that problem.”
Ariana snorted, shaking her head, though her smile was faint. “Oh, really? You’re saying dwarves are perfect?”
“Of course not,” Varric replied, his tone mock-serious. “We’re just stubborn as stone. The downside? We never change. At least humans eventually learn from their mistakes.” He gestured to her with his drink. “Case in point: you.”
Ariana chuckled softly, her thumb brushing against the ring. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“It’s part of my charm,” he said with a grin, leaning forward. “Now, what do you say? Rewrite that story of yours. I’ll make sure it’s a bestseller.”
Ariana chuckled, the sound carrying a hint of genuine warmth. “Deal.”
Varric tipped his imaginary hat. “Good. But just remember—you’re still my pup, even if you’re busy running your own pack.”
For the first time in weeks, Ariana felt a small spark of something she hadn’t dared to hope for: clarity. The path ahead remained uncertain, but with Varric by her side, she knew she wasn’t walking it alone.
~~~
Varric remained with Ariana and the Rangers for the remainder of the year, much to her quiet relief. Though their days of strolling through Kirkwall and trading information were behind them, his presence was a steadying force—a reminder of the life she’d built and the people who had shaped her. Varric had been there through so much, and she couldn’t imagine navigating these moments of uncertainty without him.
Their days of trading quips while walking the streets of Kirkwall had given way to trekking through forests and navigating muddy paths. It was a new chapter for both of them. For Ariana, it was a return to the life she’d known before returning to Kirkwall—moving between settlements, helping those in need. For Varric, it was a challenge he hadn’t anticipated. As it turned out, Varric was not made for the wilderness. A fact Ariana delighted in teasing him about.
“Honestly, Varric, I’ve seen city pigeons more suited to the woods than you,” she quipped as he grumbled about his boots being perpetually muddy.
“Hey now,” he shot back, leaning on Bianca for support as he stepped over a particularly large root. “I didn’t sign up for ranger life, pup. Some of us are meant for taverns and marketplaces, not… this.” He gestured broadly at the surrounding trees, as though personally offended by them.
“Good thing I’m here to keep you alive, then,” she replied with a smirk.
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward. “Just don’t let me die out here. I’d hate for my story to end in a swamp.”
Their banter made the long days easier. For Ariana, it was a reminder of who she used to be before the weight of leadership, war, and heartbreak bore down on her. Varric had a way of lightening even the darkest moods, and she found herself feeling more like herself with every passing day. Yet, in the quiet moments by the fire, her thoughts drifted.
The pendant around her neck caught the flickering firelight as she turned it over absently. Beside it, the engagement ring now hung, a subtle but constant reminder of what could have been. Her fingers brushed against the ring more often than she cared to admit. The life she and Cullen had planned together felt as distant as the stars that glittered in the night sky. But still, she couldn’t bring herself to let go of the ring—not yet.
One evening, as the campfire crackled softly between them, Ariana sat lost in her thoughts, playing with the pendant. Her gaze was distant, fixed on the flames.
Varric watched her for a while, then nodded toward the pendant. “That thing’s been through a lot with you, hasn’t it?”
Ariana’s expression softened, her fingers stilling. “It has,” she murmured. “It’s a reminder of where I started… and where I’ve been. I wouldn’t be here without it—or without you.”
Varric’s expression softened, his usual humor giving way to something deeper. “You’re going to make me a sentimental dwarf, kid.”
Ariana laughed, the sound light but genuine. “You’re already a sentimental dwarf, Varric.”
“You wound me, pup,” he replied, clutching his chest dramatically.
“If you weren’t so sentimental, your books wouldn’t sell half as well,” she teased, her grin widening.
Varric tilted his head, considering. “Fair point,” he admitted. “Still, don’t go spreading that around. I’ve got a reputation to maintain.”
Ariana chuckled, her gaze returning to the pendant. She turned it over in her hand, her voice softening. “I keep following this constellation, wherever it takes me,” she murmured. “That one star blinking in the Visus constellation told me to run, to leave it all behind. It led me to Kirkwall, to meeting you.” Her voice grew quieter, tinged with bittersweetness. “To Ferelden. To Cullen. To the Blight. And… eventually, to who I became.”
Varric leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he studied her, his expression unusually serious. “You’ve been chasing stars all this time, huh? And here I thought you were just making it up as you went along.”
She chuckled softly, a faint smile touching her lips. “Sometimes it feels like that too,” she admitted. “But… it’s always there, guiding me, even when I don’t realize it. The choices, the paths—it all started with that one moment.”
“Maker’s breath, pup,” Varric said, his tone warm but laced with that familiar fatherly concern. “You’ve had quite the journey.”
Ariana nodded, her fingers brushing over the pendant and ring again. “And it’s not over yet.” Her voice was quiet but resolute. “Wherever it takes me next, I’ll follow it.”
Varric shook his head, a small, knowing grin creeping back onto his face. “Well, if the stars decide to dump you in another mess, just make sure to send me a letter. Can’t let you get all the good stories without me.”
“A letter?” Ariana quipped, tilting her head to smirk at him. “I just figured you’d join me in the next mess.”
Varric chuckled, shaking his head. “Pup, you know I’m not built for your kind of chaos. You thrive in it. Me? I’m more of a ‘sit in a tavern and spin the tale’ kind of guy.”
“Is that why you’ve been trudging through the mud and eating questionable campfire meals for months now?” she teased. “Seems like you’ve adapted just fine.”
He sighed dramatically, gesturing at the wilderness around them. “Don’t remind me. My boots will never be the same. And don’t get me started on the spiders.”
Ariana laughed, her first genuine laugh in weeks. “You’re not fooling anyone, Varric. You might grumble about it, but you love it. Admit it—you wouldn’t trade this adventure for all the gold in Kirkwall.”
Varric paused, giving her a side-eye. “All the gold, maybe not. The Hanged Man’s ale? That’s a tougher sell.”
She nudged him lightly. “You’ll survive, city dwarf. Besides, where’s the fun in spinning tales if you haven’t lived them yourself?”
He smirked, his voice softening. “Fair enough. I suppose I’ve got a few good chapters out of this already.” Then, his expression turned serious, his eyes meeting hers. “But, pup, don’t think for a second I’d let you go off on the next grand disaster without me watching your back.”
Ariana’s smirk softened into a grateful smile. “I’d expect nothing less.”
~~~
Varric had spent the last few months writing his new novel, The Tale of the Champion. Even among all this wilderness he always kept his book, quill and ink at the ready. He knew that what happened in Kirkwall was only the beginning of a much larger conflict. He also knew that the Templar Order and the Chantry would likely try to retell the story in a more flattering light to them, knowing full well that they would likely try to blame Hawke for the downfall of the Gallows and Meredith.
Varric knew someone needed to tell the whole story, from the beginning. And he would make sure that it was told right… maybe with some embellishments along the way… and with some omissions. He sat by the fire that night, quill in hand and parchment spread across his lap. The Tale of the Champion was coming together, but every sentence he wrote felt heavy, burdened by the knowledge that this story was more than just a legend. It was a warning, a truth the world would need to remember. And yet, the most painful truths—Ariana’s truths—would stay locked away in the recesses of his mind. Her part in the tale would remain a secret, shielded by his words.
As the firelight danced across her face, Varric felt a pang in his chest that he rarely allowed himself to acknowledge. He’d never had children, never imagined himself as the fatherly type, but looking at Ariana now, so worn and fragile despite her strength, he understood what parents must feel for their children: an overwhelming need to protect, to shield, to take on their burdens as if they were his own.
Suddenly, Ariana startled awake, her breath sharp and shallow. Her left hand clutched her forearm, her eyes darting wildly around the camp as though expecting an attack. He had seen this kind of terror before—men and women reliving their worst moments, moments they couldn’t escape no matter how far they ran. Varric’s instincts kicked in immediately, and he dropped his book and quill, moving to her side.
“Pup, are you alright?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with concern.
Ariana didn’t answer. Her eyes flickered between the shadows, her terror palpable. Varric knelt beside her, lowering his voice. “Hey, it’s me. You’re safe. Just breathe.”
Her gaze finally locked onto his, wide and glassy with confusion. Slowly, her breathing began to steady, though her grip on her forearm remained tight. Varric placed his hands gently on her shoulders, grounding her. “I’m here, pup. You’re not alone.”
After a moment, Ariana exhaled shakily, releasing her grip on her arm. She rubbed her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s nothing, Varric. Just a nightmare.”
He frowned, his tone soft but insistent. “That wasn’t a nightmare. That was something much worse—a memory.”
Her eyes widened, and she looked away, the faintest tremor running through her. He’d suspected for years that there was a part of her story she hadn’t told him, a gap she’d carefully hidden beneath layers of deflection and half-truths. He’d let it slide, trusting that she’d come to him when she was ready. Now, he wasn’t sure if that trust had been misplaced or if he’d simply failed her by not pushing harder.
“You’ve been carrying this alone for too long, pup,” he said gently, pulling her into a hug. She stiffened at first, but then she relaxed, her head resting against his shoulder. He could feel the weight of her pain as if it were his own, and it infuriated him. She deserved better. She deserved peace, and he’d failed to give her that.
“You forgot to fill the gap in the story,” he murmured, hoping to ease her into it. “Whenever you take something out, you have to put something back in its place.”
“What?” Ariana asked, her voice soft but tinged with alarm.
“Your story has a gap, pup,” Varric said, his tone a mix of teasing and concern. “You think I didn’t notice that years ago? People don’t just ‘leave’ mercenary companies like the Crimson Blades on a whim. If their leader, Krieger, was half as bad as the reports said, he wouldn’t have let you walk away without a fight.”
Ariana’s breath hitched, her hands clenching at her sides. “You know who they are?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“I knew a little before you told me,” Varric admitted. “Afterward, I dug deeper. Not good people, pup. And then they just… disappeared, right around the time the Silver Rangers showed up.”
She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the ground. “Do we have any wine left?” she asked after a moment, her voice strained.
Varric chuckled, though the sound lacked its usual levity. “Do we have any wine left, she asks… Pup, you wound me.” He retrieved a bottle from his pack, pouring them each a glass. They drank in silence at first, the fire crackling between them.
Her voice was quiet at first, halting as she began to speak. She told him about her time with the Blades, Krieger’s training, his growing obsession, and the friends she’d made along the way. Her tone grew flatter, more detached, the further into the story she went, her eyes fixed on the fire as though it could somehow burn away the memories.
When she finally recounted what Krieger had done to her, Varric felt the blood drain from his face. He’d expected something bad, but this… this was worse than anything he could have imagined. He drained his glass in one go, refilling it and doing the same again. His hands trembled slightly as he set the glass down, his heart pounding with a mix of rage and guilt. She spoke of Riley and the others, of how they’d turned against Krieger, saved her, and escaped.
“Pup, I…” His voice faltered. What could he say? That he was sorry? That he’d failed her? That he should’ve done more? “It’s my fau—”
“No,” she interrupted, her voice firm despite the faint tremor in it. “None of this was your fault, Varric.” Her lips curved into a hesitant smile, one meant to reassure him. “And this is exactly why I didn’t tell you before. I knew you’d blame yourself, even though you shouldn’t. You tried to get me to leave Ferelden. I stayed by my own choice.”
“I should’ve come to get you,” Varric said, his tone thick with emotion. “Berthold could’ve taken me right to you. I would’ve dragged you back to Kirkwall.”
Ariana laughed softly, the sound bittersweet. “You would’ve tried,” she said, her hand resting on his shoulder. “But I wouldn’t have left. Not back then. I didn’t even fully understand why, but I couldn’t leave Cullen. And honestly? I don’t regret that part. What happened… it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t his fault. It was mine.”
Varric shook his head, his jaw tightening. “You don’t get to carry this alone, pup. Not anymore.”
“I’m not alone,” she said, her voice steady. “I have the Rangers. I have you.”
“You always will,” he said fiercely. “But I swear, I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that again. Not as long as I’m breathing.”
Ariana smiled softly, her gratitude shining in her eyes. “I know, Varric,” she said quietly. “And that’s why I told you.”
As she leaned back, her gaze once again fixed on the fire, Varric felt a renewed sense of purpose. He’d failed her once. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. Whatever storms lay ahead, he’d face them by her side, ensuring that his pup never had to stand alone again.
~~~
Late that winter, Isabela sauntered into the manor, her grin promising trouble. Trailing behind her, with the bemused expression of someone who had just signed up for more than he bargained for, was none other than King Alistair. Ariana, standing by the hearth, arched an eyebrow. She shot a quick glance at Varric, who was nursing a cup of tea by the fire. His raised brow mirrored her own thoughts: What in the Void now?
“Varric, darling,” Isabela began, her tone dripping with mock sweetness, “I’ve got the perfect job for you. And yes, it’s in Antiva. You’re welcome.”
“Antiva?” Varric sighed, setting his tea down. His tone carried suspicion, though his curiosity was already piqued. “What’s the job, exactly?”
“Something for the King,” Ariana chimed in, her voice playfully skeptical. “Tell me, Alistair, you’re not looking to replace me, are you?”
“Perish the thought!” Alistair replied, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. “Wait… does Varric charge less?”
“The Merchant Prince of Kirkwall? Charge less than I do?” Ariana quipped. “Not a chance.”
“Well, then, your job is safe,” Alistair said with a grin.
Varric leaned back, folding his arms. “Alright, Your Majesty, let’s hear it. What kind of job could you possibly need a storyteller for? Writing a heroic ballad about yourself? Maybe commissioning an epic saga?”
Alistair rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling. “No statues or ballads this time. Although… now that you mention it…”
Ariana snorted, shaking her head. “See? You have to take the job, Varric. Imagine the stories you’ll get—and the new material you can complain about.”
“I’m not—” Varric started, but Ariana cut him off with a raised hand, her grin widening.
“Wait, wait, let me finish. No more mud, no more campfires, no more giant spiders,” she teased, her voice lilting with exaggerated emphasis. “Just cobblestones, taverns, and inns with actual beds. Sounds like paradise, doesn’t it?”
Varric sighed, though a faint smirk tugged at his lips. “Pup, you need me here. Who else is going to keep you out of trouble?”
Ariana rolled her eyes, motioning toward the courtyard. “That’s Riley’s job. Have you looked outside? There are close to two hundred Rangers out there. Trust me, Varric, I’ll be fine. I just drag you through the wilds because I enjoy watching you suffer.”
“She’s got a point,” Isabela interjected with a smirk. “You do look miserable in the mud, Varric.”
“And yet, I stick around,” Varric shot back, his tone dry. “I’m starting to think you just want me out of your hair, Pup.”
“Never,” Ariana said with a playful grin. “I’ll miss you, of course. But you’re not meant to sit around babysitting me. You’ve got bigger adventures waiting.”
Varric’s smirk faltered for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “I’m not so sure about that,” he said quietly.
“You will be,” Ariana replied, her voice gentle. “And besides, you’ll always find your way back.”
Alistair, watching the exchange, clapped his hands together. “So, does this mean I’ve successfully recruited the great Varric Tethras?”
Varric glanced between Ariana and Alistair, his resolve wavering. “Fine,” he muttered, throwing up his hands. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a storyteller, Your Majesty. But I’m not writing you a ballad.”
“Fair enough,” Alistair said, grinning. “Though I should warn you—there’ll be plenty of swamps and woods before we reach any proper cities.”
“Fantastic,” Varric groaned, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sure my boots will thank you later.”
Ariana chuckled, stepping forward to squeeze Varric’s shoulder. “New misery means new stories. Just don’t forget to write me a letter, alright?”
Varric smirked. “Pup, you know you’ll be the first to hear all the gory details.”
Isabela leaned against the doorway, her grin smug. “You’re going to miss him, Ari. Don’t pretend you won’t.”
Ariana’s smile wavered slightly, her fingers brushing against the pendant at her throat. “Of course I’ll miss him,” she admitted softly. “But Varric’s not one to stay still for long. And I’d never want to hold him back.”
Varric’s smirk softened, his voice quiet but firm. “You’ve never held me back, Pup.”
Their eyes met, and for a moment, the weight of their bond hung between them. Ariana finally broke the silence with a faint, bittersweet smile. “Then go make some trouble in Antiva,” she said. “And when you’re done, come back and tell me all about it.”
Varric chuckled, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve got a deal.”
As he and Alistair headed toward the courtyard, Ariana lingered by the fire, the warmth doing little to chase away the ache in her chest. She told herself this was how it had to be—Varric had his own path, and she had hers. But as the door closed behind them, she couldn’t help but whisper, “Stay safe, old friend.”
The fire crackled softly, its light flickering against the walls, as Ariana steeled herself for the next chapter of her journey.