#( 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 ; Varric )

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

( V.arric T.ethras ; continued )

        𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐧-𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐬, 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. He allowed the rest of the group to play the hero in his steed, leaning back in his chair and extending out his legs, hovering an inch above the floor. He sighed and intertwined his fingers over his stomach breathing in the smell of wet pine and a babbling brook nearby. He leaned out of his chair, widening his half-lidded eyes as a cup of tea was placed in front of him. He mumbled his gratitude, reaching forward and savoring the warmth that washed down his throat.

        He had to laugh when she mentioned Chuckles. He was… something else. Varric trusted him, but there was something unsure about him. That was only how he could explain it. ❝ Chuckles won’t mind, but Sparkler--Dorian--might. ❞ He looked over his shoulder and watched as the rest of his group watched over the perimeter, staring into the dark depths of the forest around them for any nasty beings lying in wait. ❝ I think Chuckles will be grateful that you offered him a bed to lay in for the night. He doesn’t mind tents, but there’s nothing better than a proper bed to sleep in. ❞

@miss-polly

[shxrp-teeth-after-dark]

archaeval asked : ღ an au where ruby and varric don't pine for 300 years before getting frisky shdhsds

Put a ღ in my inbox to my muses’s reaction to yours pinning them down on the couch (or any location). / @archaeval​​ -- accepting

       𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫, 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬. The chair’s cushioning was soft under his body, but that didn’t mean Ruby’s touch didn’t have some weight to it. As there was pressure weighing down on his shoulders, he could feel Ruby’s warm breath on his skin as she looked down at him, a grin of his own meeting her gaze.

       For once, she might’ve rendered him speechless.

       The author’s eyes wander from her gaze down to her lips, cheekbones, and then to her neck and collarbone. The sun shone perfectly upon her skin so that he could take notice of every inch of her exposed skin. Any freckle, birthmark, or indention on her perfect skin was easy for him to observe from how close they were and he already lost track of whatever line he was pondering over to say to her next.

       He had to think of something, but anything that came to mind seemed too… inappropriate. Or at least for now.

       He raised his brows for a moment, a smirk tipping the corner of his lips. ❝ Did you find what you were looking for, Miss Ruby? ❞

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

( V.arric T.ethras ; continued )

        𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦. He had jumped back of course--he can blame Cassandra’s punch for that knee-jerk reaction--but the fork had barely touched him, only briefly scraping over his red tunic. It hadn’t hurt and all Varric could respond was a voice of disbelief.

        He chuckled, voice full of surprise, when he looked up to see Polly’s wide-eyed, tightened lip expression on her reddened face. As expected, Polly stammered, but unexpectedly, she mustered up the courage to blame Varric, of all people. 

        ❝ I deserve to have a fork thrown at me? ❞ If she didn’t hear the chuckle that left his lips, he sounded as if he was offended by his high-pitched voice. ❝ My apologies for interrupting your breakfast, Flower. ❞ Varric’s voice lowered, but it still held that playful edge to it that was common for the dwarf. ❝ I was going to ask if you would prefer your character to have a flower crown in my novel, picked up from one of her adventures, but now I’m debating if I should give her a fork for a weapon instead. ❞

@miss-polly

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

archaeval asked : ❛ she said you’d come, & i swore to eat your heart. ❜ / dealer's choice

DEATHLESS. / @archaeval -- accepting

        𝐈𝐟 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡, 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝. 

        It had hardly been an hour into their time at the Hissing Wastes’ camp when Varric began to complain of the sand wedged between his toes and the bottom of his shoe, of the Sun and its heat, and the way his tunic started to cling closer to his body than usual. But he would be a fool to complain here and now when he heard Ruby’s words, accompanied by a grin that started to creep upon his lips. 

        ❝ I missed you too, Dressy. ❞ She may be taller than him and he didn’t doubt that beneath her lush dresses and beaded jewelry, she could throw a punch, but he believed there were other… more deserving people that she would rather punch than him. He was in safe company, for the most part.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

      𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲’𝐬 𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝. He slowed his steps and then stopped at one point to listen to the entirety of her words. Shit. He knew a good joke wouldn’t unwind the fear within her, but he thanked Andraste herself that he wasn’t placed in the Inquisitor position. He could charm an Orlesian, but the entire ordeal of convincing them to join the Inquisition’s side was a battle he would wish to avoid himself. 

      He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, combing back his hair to somewhat control it against the relentless humidity. He pieced together the guidance he could provide.

        ❝ Have you spoken to Josephine about this? Or Leliana, for that matter? They would have more words of wisdom than I could offer. Shit. I’m sorry, kid. I would advise you to be truthful, but sometimes a well-crafted lie is better than the truth. ❞ He wanted to tell her to be truthful about her doubts about being the Herald of Andraste, but if it was to win the Orlesians over, and if she wanted to go the route of building a convincing image, he understood how a lie could win him some favors with the right company. 

@miss-polly

Polly tried to laugh at his joke, but her smile faltered quickly. She glanced around for a moment before leaning in and insisting, "I'm sorry, but she really is so scary, and I think she hates me. And The Lady Seeker is talking about going back to Val Royeux, and --" She shakes her head, presses her lips together, visibly working to regain her composure.

When she speaks, her voice is lower in pitch. Slower, more controlled, with the illusion of confidence barely covering her terror. "I want to do this right. If they think...If they think I'm the herald of Andraste herself, then I have to do it right. Orlais is a valuable ally, and the easiest to offend. If I'm not a fool, I'll learn how to behave in front of them, and let my advisors go from there." Words she was echoing from one of said advisors, but she'd be more than a fool not to heed them.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

( Varric Tethras ; continued )

        ❝ Are you sure? Not even Curly? ❞ he asks with a chuckle and a hint of surprise in his voice. Well, Varric didn’t think he was absolutely hideous to look upon, he had some desirable traits that attracted some, but to be the only one Roland had his eyes on? Varric was surprised, to say the least. ❝ Or Blackwall, if that's your fancy. ❞

        What Varric could agree upon was a time out with friends was never any wasted time. The way he spoke so admirably and delightfully about his companions reminded him of his own friends back in Kirkwall, or wherever they scattered to these days. They didn’t spend their time in theaters, no, rather in the Hanged Man most nights, speaking their own version of poetry. When he was around them, inspiration flowed like water. ❝ Seduce? ❞ he chuckled, not being able to stop himself from doing so, raising an eyebrow as he looked over at Roland. ❝ I think this is becoming less of an inspiration piece for my next book and more of an excuse to flirt with me. ❞

        Well, Roland did say that he was the only one he had been honored to woo, so go figure. His jest might be closer to the truth than he thought.

        Varric was intrigued by his words. It sounded fantastical and here Varric was, mulling in his mind on how he could mimic Roland’s voice for a character, just to intrigue the reader as much. A jester in a royal court? No, no, Roland deserved better than that. A bard, perhaps, might be more honorable. It might be more suitable as well. 

        He ran a hand through his hair, pushing back the blonde flyaways in his hair. ❝ Usually, I stick by the hearth in the throne room. I tend to dabble in my writing there if Cassandra isn’t trying to persuade me into writing another book. ❞ He crossed his arms and looked down, muttering to himself in a statement that was intended to be mirthful. ❝ Sometimes violence is included. ❞

@eritvita

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

flcralist asked : ❛ forests have secrets. it’s practically what they’re for. ❜ from polly to varric

DEATHLESS. / @flcralist -- accepting

        𝐓𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. In the long stretch of woodlands around them, the house of that family of four seemed like a faraway dream. Blackwall trudged along, his massive sword all across his back, and yet he was the only one that managed to not get any blisters in their hike through the Hinterlands. But in this long, rather painful walk, Varric had his mind stuck on his next book, and overhearing Polly’s observations had only helped stir his mind in that direction.

        ❝ I overheard that the creation of forests was by the Dalish. ❞ Whether that was true or not, he would have to ask Solas. ❝ Long ago, they transformed a prairie into the vast woodlands we see today. ❞ As he began to explain his tale, he was starting to doubt that claim more and more. But what he could believe--if only a little--was that the forests could hold secrets in them. Rituals under the moon, deep in the shadowy forests, apostates hiding inside a burrow to escape Templars. With how long these large trees have nested in the soil, there wasn’t any doubt that a thing or two had occurred around them. Whether the trees truly spoke of these “secrets”, stranger things have occurred.

        ❝ And do they whisper these secrets to you? ❞ He had also heard that plants responded well when they were spoken to, but whether they communicated back, he didn’t know. With Polly’s inclination to magic, she might be able to solve that mystery for him.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

        𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐬 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝. Despite the large presence of readers across Thedas (his publisher could attest to this by the sale of his books alone), some found more entertainment in swinging a sword, shooting an arrow, or participating in a tavern song, but he would imagine at some point his fingers would grasp the page of a book. Whether he retained anything from it, that’s a different story entirely.

        ❝ Not a single one? No paint-by-numbers? Locate the missing Nug? ❞ It was a crude attempt at a joke, but it held some inkling of curiosity. Even Sera had stated before that she read a book (but only the first page before she grew bored with the activity altogether). But Varric reasoned then and now that all it took was a plot or a genre to grab someone’s interest. They just had to discover what their interests were. There was bound to be a book that would be just the right fit.

        ❝ Have you ever heard of Hard in Hightown? You might come to enjoy it. ❞ 

open ;

"Yes hello, I am Robby Lunch, and I've never read a book in my life. What can I do for you?"

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

eritvita asked : 💬 to Varric!

Send 💬  for me to make you a starter with a random line of dialogue from this generator. / @eritvita​​ -- accepting

       ❝ Perhaps you'll take me out one day - or do I have to make an appointment? ❞

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

( V.arric T.ethras ; continued )

      𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐉𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭: the people, the dresses, the Inquisition's uniforms, the food, oh and don’t forget the drinks either -- all went in one ear and out the other. For a moment all of these joyful words sat, but not for any considerable measure when it was quickly tossed out with one reason or another of his own for why the formal party at the Winter Palace was going to be a headache and a half. 

      Well, it was his publisher that was going to have a headache once he was back in Skyhold through a hearty and heavy-worded letter to figure out the reason why they said his books did horribly in this area of Thedas. He busied his idle posture with a drink, but it seemed only a few swallows were taken from the once-full drink. He tried another sip of the rather sweet drink when he heard Ruby’s voice say his name so sweetly and so tenderly floating through the air.

      He smiled at her comment, never taking her word seriously until… Well, until there were moments he wondered over the intention of her words. But, he was looking too deeply into things now, maybe the drink was indeed worthless to keep around if it brought these reflective thoughts to light.

       ❝ Like everyone else, I know my strengths and weaknesses. I can’t be talented at everything, Dressy, that would be no fun, ❞ he chuckled. ❝ I knew dancing was not my forte when I started learning. It all went downhill from the very start. ❞ He never had a reason to dance. Usually, his friends stuck to taverns where maybe there was a bar dance or two when the drinks were flowing, but nothing as particular and technical as formal dances tended to be. Ruby was right to some degree, it felt odd not having to pride himself all the time in another’s presence, even if it was for a joke and the way sarcasm lingered deeply throughout his words, but at least in front of Ruby, he loosened up slightly. He did wish to impress her to a certain degree as he did to anyone (or so he liked to think), but his stay in the gardens didn’t speak that of a party animal.

      He looked up at her, swishing the liquid in his glass. ❝ How is the Inquisitor? Chasing off their admirers, I assume? ❞

@archaeval ​​

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

        𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞. He was more confused than annoyed over his name, but when Varric would press a little further, egging him on to pick his own name, Solas was even more perplexed. Every name he suggested was met with a shake of the dwarf’s head and a discontent reply, stating that it didn’t quite suit him. 

        Varric smiled into his teacup, downing the last of it before setting it back on the table. ❝ Oftentimes, no, ❞ he answered, leaning back in his chair. ❝ Why not make things interesting? I’m a storyteller, there has to be some fun somewhere. ❞ There was no method to his madness. He found it boring and too formal to address others by their names, which was reserved for the merchant guild and his editor. He assumed he would be killed by either party if he said anything but their name. 

        He stared out into the forest where his friends were. His eyes latched onto Dorian, a smile lifting the corner of his lips when he thought back on their previous interactions. ❝ Sparkler… Well, besides being a mage, Dorian has this quality to him that makes him sparkle. It’s a compliment, really. His wardrobe is eye-catching on purpose and his personality is like no other. His temper can be... sparking as well. ❞ His eyes moved to the next person: Solas. He clung to the back of the group, looking out for anything that might’ve gone unnoticed or missed. ❝ The reserved, quiet types often come to enjoy their nickname after some time. Stoic isn’t exactly a nickname that’s taken lightly. ❞

        His gaze swiveled over to Polly, tilting his head to look up at her. ❝ Have you ever given someone a nickname? A pet, a relative, a friend, perhaps? ❞

She can't help but giggle, though it was a relief to know the most stoic of the group seemed to be softer than his hard expression let on. Dorian seemed perfectly charming, though a part of her couldn't help but worry that he would harbor some small resentment. She tried to remind herself there was nothing to be done for it, and focus on the matter at hand -- the names Varric seemed to be using.

 "Chuckles…?" Polly had heard many a strange moniker over the years, but, even as a nicknamem that seemed far more fitting for a court jester than a seasoned mage. "Do you call anyone by their name? Sorry -- I don't mean to sound rude or anything. just..." She chuckled again, shrugging. "Sparkler? Where did you come up with that?"

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

mercyburned asked : ❝  i want the sun to burn me. i want it to scorch me to the bone.  ❞ / Margo to Varric

Circe Sentence Starters. / @mercyburned​ -- accepting

       ❝ If I knew you were so lyrical, Hawke, I would’ve considered hiring you as my ghostwriter for my romance book. ❞ Perhaps then he could’ve solidified a larger audience and the publisher would’ve been cheaper about the whole ordeal. 

      ❝ That’s an overtly dramatic way to say you want a tan. ❞ he chuckled, walking up to stand beside Hawke. The red, billowing curtains that stretched far wider than the glass pane of the window and the stone arch around it were lightly dancing to the rhythms of the wind. Varric pressed down on the circled lever to crack open a crevasse in the window to cool down the heat in his room. 

      If Hawke wished to go out on Vivienne’s balcony and bask in the sunlight, it didn’t matter to Varric. He was in the process of editing this first draft, and while this was a nice distraction, he knew his publisher was president about a new release. It appeared somehow the second copy of Swords & Shields was what whirlwinded the series into popularity.

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

( V.arric T.ethras ; continued )

       𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐄𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐡'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟’𝐬 𝐞𝐲𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲. Being an Inquisitor wasn’t easy, and being given the title “hero” was less so. From his times being by Hawke’s side, he was well aware of the way titles, pressures, and external conflicts and influences affected a person.

       Even as Elizabeth stopped her pacing and sat down for a second, Varric couldn’t help but extend a helping hand, a wisdom of sorts if he could offer it. It looked as if even stationary, she still was grappling with an anxiety of some kind. Elizabeth stood out so easily to him and to the others, it wasn’t hard to miss her when he glanced around at his surroundings.

       A tear opens up but Varric misses it, even as he hears the startled voices of the healers nearby, he draws no attention to it. His unwavering stare is on Elizabeth, his head tilted upwards a bit to look up at her from his seat on a bench. His fingers fidget with the crossbow--Bianca--in his hands as he listened, trying to piece together this story piece by piece as much as he could with how fictional and foreign it seemed. A man by the name of Booker? An airship? Her world? If he didn’t see how it affected Elizabeth so greatly, with how anxious she seemed, and how he could tell it was straight from the heart -- he would’ve assumed she was spinning an imaginative story to impress the author. Even as outlandish as it was, it only made Varric more curious and interested in her retelling. Maybe he was the first person she fully opened up to about this?

       Though Elizabeth seemed to note that she wasn’t part of their world--whatever that meant--he wondered if this had some attachment to The Fade. It seemed as if anything could occur in The Fade by how Solas spoke about it.

       Even as much as Varric would like to offer her reassurance that she would make it back to her own world with how her voice cracks and the emotional turmoil this all appeared to have on her, he knows that would be a promise he could not give. He wasn’t magically inclined like Solas and Dorian were, he could hardly make sense of the hole in the sky that was right above them. So, he took it step by step, only making sense and fixing what seemed the easiest. 

       The author sighed and shifted in his seat, trying to formulate something to make her feel a little better. ❝ From my understanding of it all, life itself, I’ve learned that even the most self-assured looking people don’t know half of what they’re actually doing. They just take life as it is, and do what they envision is right. There’s no book hidden somewhere that gives you all of the world’s secrets. ❞ 

       This story of hers was something more than himself, he couldn’t give her the end-all solution on how to deal with the hole in the sky, how to get back home, and how to save Booker. ❝ If I know anything about dealing with oddities, it’s Solas you should speak to. He might be able to figure out a way for you to get back home. This magical business isn’t my area of expertise. ❞

       Then a question occurred to him that he couldn’t pass up. He raised a hand as if to pause her next reply. ❝ This might be a strange question but hear me out on this: do you believe in fate at all? Divine timing? That you were placed here for some reason or other and it wasn’t just up to chance? ❞

@cewyll​

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

archaeval asked : ✨ varric to ruby :0

Send ✨ and my Muse will state one thing they think is aesthetically attractive about your Muse. / @archaeval​​​ -- accepting

      𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭? As a proficient writer and businessman, he was always observant. Though both tended to go hand in hand, look over body language to tell the readers about a character, to be able to charm the other person in a business arrangement, he did take note of his surroundings to incorporate into his next novel in vivid detail. Whether that would be the scenery itself to describing a person’s face, Ruby was not exempted from his attentive eye.

       ❝ Just one? That’ll be one hell of a challenge. ❞ He rubbed his chin, clicking his tongue as he thought. This is all from a visual point of view, right? No toying of personality traits? Does he mention her hair, her eyes, or her figure? Or does he get more specific? To her face shape, the way her neck and collarbone always drew his eyes?

       ❝ Her hair, ❞ he finally decided. ❝ While her attire is always one to admire and frankly, inspiring, her hair is what draws my eye the most. Always perfectly pinned in place, untouched by oils and grime, layered with a careful touch. Never a strand out of place. It’s enchanting, truly. ❞

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

        𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐮𝐛𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭, for both his own comfort and hers, and for any prying eyes. He would say there’s no rhyme and reason for it. They crossed paths periodically, he enjoyed their banter. What more could there be between them? 

        Yet, that was far from the truth about why he visited her. And the reasons why he kept his feelings under wraps were justified by their interaction alone. As long as the Inquisition still lived and breathed, and Corypheus had their sights on them, there was a war to fight. Besides that, he was to return to Kirkwall. Surely, Ruby had no interest in following him there with all her finery. 

        He chuckled and crossed his arms, looking up at her with a mischievous grin. ❝ I write stories for a living, Dressy, surely I would get tired of my own stories by now. Why don’t you give me something to work with here? ❞

open ;

RUBY HAD TOO MUCH WORK TO DO to trifle with things like going out and drinking games and having fun. There were treatises to review and annotate, correspondence to manage, and the eternal task of trying to get the archives under control. She sighed.

It was smart to bond with those she's meant to work with. Get on their good side and make sure they got along well. But no doubt they'd want her to smile or talk about herself, or, worse, share from her bottomless well of gossip that she'd rather leave for official blackmail. "I'm sure anything you come up with will be a more interesting excuse than the truth, I'm afraid. Tell yourself a story, and pretend I said it, and all will be well."

[sharp-teeth-and-archived]

archaeval asked : Ruby absolutely has a crush on Varric but she will NOT acknowledge how obvious it is thank you

Send💘 if your muse has a crush on mine (I’m assuming?) / @archaeval​​ -- accepting

Everyone else in Skyhold: Oh no those two are flirting again

Varric & Ruby: