Since I didn't post this when I actually wrote it, I figured now would be a good time to do so. It's part of a
longer oneshot about Lady Hawke and Varric. I'm... okay with this now. I know that Mary will have written an amazing character for us, and I'll enjoy him just as much without being able to get my romance achievement when I play my main Lady Hawke. It's... okay. I'm glad everyone has the romance they want. I've survived on fanfiction alone for a while now. That won't be changing anytime soon.
I really hope the formatting isn't horrendous.
"I wonder, Varric, if you truly understand the importance of this interrogation," Cassandra interrupted. She'd stopped her pacing mere moments before, hands crossed behind her back and her eyes focused on him. "I am not interested in whatever 'relationship' you've conjured up. I want to know the facts."
He couldn't help but sigh. He didn't have fingers and toes enough to count how many times this Chantry Seeker had been quick to deny the fact that he and the Champion had been involved. "Is it really that hard to believe, Cass?" The book of information she'd thrown at him days before lay open in his lap to the page with six portraits, of him and of the people he'd grown close to over the past ten years. Dragging his gloved finger in a semi-circle around them, trailing over their faces as he met hers with a look of utter boredom, he continued, "You've visited with all the other important men and women in her life. Can you honestly still think I didn't have a chance?"
"I think you're a man who is prone to weaving tales with little to no truth behind them." Her words were clipped; staccato. She'd long since grown tired of listening to him speak at length with a single strand of truth threaded through is story. "I would ask you to speak plainly, but I imagine that is beyond your capabilities."
"You drag me in here. Throw me into this extremely uncomfortable chair. Threaten me by the edge of your blade to talk about Hawke for hours on end." Varric shut the book with a flourish, casting it onto the table at his side with such a lack of care it slid across the top and fell to the floor in a puff of dust. "You're expecting me to betray her. To tell you where she is, why she did what she did. You haven't given me a single reason to trust you enough to tell you the full truth."
Even as she opened her mouth to speak, he kept on. Since the moment she'd met him, he'd maintained an air of almost chilled insolence. He flirted, teased, and continued on, not caring a shot whether or not she believed him. However, everyone had a breaking point, when their attempts proved so useless they just couldn't take it anymore, and this was his. "Then you go ahead and tell me I'm lying to you about the woman I love and have loved for years. Years. You want the sodding truth? I'm giving it to you, but you're too thick-headed and prejudiced to believe me."
Cassandra took a step forward only to have him rise up out of his chair in surprising defiance. "No matter what you've heard about me – and I wager you've heard a lot; you seem to be very good at keeping your ear to the ground – I can speak plainly. I have been speaking plainly. The people in that little book of yours have no reason to lie about her."
"Sit," was her only reply, and he did as he was instructed. When she turned around to head back to her table across the dimly lit room, she could hear him chuckle. The hairs on the back of her neck stood as her entire body tensed. Bracing herself on the rough tabletop, Cassandra took a deep breath through her nose. "What is it? Why are you laughing?"
Leaning against the high back of his chair, Varric laced his hands over his stomach. A smug tilt of a grin replaced the impassioned expression he wore no more than a moment before.
"You know, Cass," he replied, that infuriatingly warm, teasing tone returning to his voice. "I think you're just jealous."
If she wasn't going to believe him, why should he fight it?
He knew the truth. That was what mattered.
Modifié par Calla S, 14 février 2011 - 10:38 .