Truth Is Weirder Than Fiction [Complete]

[Varric Tethras]

“I’ve usually found home is where the people you care about most are.” Plainly spoken, but there was a decidedly melancholy cast in the violet eyes.

“I’ll talk with Ruffles and Nightingale,” Varric promised Sati. “Between being nice and being sneaky, they ought to be able to track down any Valo-Kas who survived the explosion.” And if being nice and being sneaky didn’t work, Curly could send in people with big swords. Nice to know they had all possible avenues covered. “Some of them had to have made it.” And hopefully stayed clear of any panicked Fereldans, who tended to be suspicious of outsiders at the best of time.

For now, the first priority was keeping the Herald from freezing to death … and maybe get her some clothes that didn’t look like she’d stolen them. She accepted that offer with an alacrity that had Varric itching to give a certain Seeker and spymaster a piece of his mind. If they honestly thought that Sati Adaar was the only one who could straighten out this mess, they might want to start treating her like an ally instead of a prisoner.

His offer of a copy of his latest book seemed to please her, as well. “I imagine it’d be useful to have an understanding of where a lot of the conflict started,” she remarked. “Thank you. And I could stand to read something other than messages from people who want to cut my head off.”

“I’m guessing that would get tedious,” Varric agreed, ducking into his tent to retrieve his copy of 'The Tale Of The Champion'. He emerged and held it out to her. “Ignore the inscription in the front,” he said with an uncomfortable cough. “I intended to give it to the Divine at my audience with her, but -” He trailed off with a shrug. He’d been pissed and didn’t care who knew it at the time, but now the words that he’d scrawled seemed a bit much:

To Divine J

In honor of my first ever command performance and in thanks for the role the Chantry played in burning my city to the ground.

Your humble prisoner,

Varric Tethras

 

[Sati Adaar]

Varric offered to speak to ‘Ruffles’ and ‘Nightingale’, drawing a soft snort from Sati. No query as to who each moniker belonged. “Between being nice and being sneaky, they ought to be able to track down any Valo-Kas who survived the explosion. Some of them had to have made it.”

Sati nodded. “Thank you.” Wallowing in grief as she had been, she had forgotten that death had come for every member of the Valo-Kas multiple times before, and been rebuffed accordingly. There was no reason to believe that none of them had survived. “They’re a tough lot. If anybody could have survived that blast…”

Kaaris hadn’t. But others on the outskirts might have been blown onto the snow-covered hillside, and somehow evaded getting hit by falling debris.

Speaking of snow, the cold was beginning to get to her, and Varric offered both better clothing and a distraction. Sati accepted, pleased that she would get to read something that wasn’t another condemnation of everything she was, or a graphic description of the execution she supposedly merited.

“I’m guessing that would get tedious.” Varric ducked into his tent and was back in moments, holding out a thick tome. “Ignore the inscription in the front. I intended to give it to the Divine at my audience with her, but…”

Following that and the dwarf’s suddenly awkward shuffle, Sati had to see what was written. It took only moments to read the few lines there, but as she did, something started to crack in her, and for the first time in days, she was smiling – no, laughing. Not hysterically, but with the plain relief of somebody discovering they still could laugh.

“It is a little out of place now,” she admitted, when she could breathe again. “But had it come to pass, I’d have given both horns to be there when you presented it.” The Divine had seemed nice enough, from a distance, but there was no doubt the Chantry had made a spectacular mess of things following the uprising in Kirkwall. She tucked the book under her arm. “I will give it back when I’m done. Don’t worry, I’m quite careful with books.”

 

[Varric Tethras]

Varric wasn’t entirely sure what the Right and Left Hands of the late Divine would make of his inscription, and he hadn’t been in any real hurry to find out. He’d fully intended to keep the book stashed away from all eyes, but Sati had the definite look of someone in need of a diversion, and wasn’t that one of the reasons that he wrote in the first place?

He wasn’t surprised when she flipped immediately to the front plate, and he was more than a little relieved when she burst out laughing. Sure, she’d said that she wasn’t a fan of the Chantry, but the Qunari - or Vashoth, or Tal-Vashoth, or whatever - that he’d encountered hadn’t had much in the way of a sense of humor.

“It is a little out of place now,” she agreed, still smiling “But had it come to pass, I’d have given both horns to be there when you presented it.”

“Give it a few weeks and we can leave it out where the Seeker can find it,” he promised her. He wasn’t enough of a bastard to drop it on Cassandra right now, but a few more weeks of her snarky comments and glares and he probably wouldn’t feel too bad about it.

“I will give it back when I’m done,” she told him, slipping the tome beneath one arm. “Don’t worry, I’m quite careful with books.”

“I trust you,” he replied with a smile, tipping his head toward the path. “Now let’s see about getting you dressed for the weather.”