#cassnadra and varric

[noire-pandora]

That's What Friends Are For

Now that the reveals happened for the Platonic Exchange, I can share the Varric & Cassandra fic I wrote for @ocean-in-my-rebel-soul​  I hope you enjoyed it.​

Varric loved Skyhold. In the bustle of activity, where dozens of voices blended into a deafening cacophony, numerous story threads awaited for him to be plucked, bent, and spun into wild tales of adventure, love,and heroism. Varric had only to listen as the energy of the people there whispered new stories and characters to him.

Every morning, after sending the most urgent letters to those who were waiting for them, he would stroll across the courtyard of Skyhold, the crunch of snow beneath his feet a pleasant background noise. As soon as he appeared there, many of those walking around with problems to solve waved at him, or even stopped to share a few words of joy, sorrow, or news spreading around Thedas like wildfire. Sometimes a delicious rumour or a sneaky gossip would reach his ears and he would make a mental note to keep it close to his heart and share it with the Spymaster, a new tool for Leliana to use like no one else.

Some days, the hustle and bustle and the gossip tickling his ears failed to inspire him. No matter how hard he tried, the little wheels of his mind refused to budge, rusty and stubborn. And today was one of those days when, although the fresh snow crunched under his shoes, encouraging him to write about the people running around him, no bright idea came to dispel the melancholy that gnawed at him.

Melancholy triggered by Hawke's trip to Weisshaupt. Even if he agreed to stay behind and help the Inquisition, he could not help but feel left behind.

"Maybe I'm just bored," he muttered under his breath, hands tucked into his pockets. Today, the cold of the mountains around Skyhold stung his eyes even more than before.

The noise of rising voices offered little comfort. Instead of awakening the joy at finding new ways to spin the words in a story for all to love, the clamour scratched at the back of his head like a nervous cat scratching the furniture.

No matter where he went, from the stables to the training grounds to the healing stations, Varric's legs refused to stay in one place, fueled by memories of his friends, all away, going about their important business, barely giving him a second thought. And he missed them all: Rivaini and her snarky replies, Daisy and her sweet giggles, heck, even Blondie with all the weird shit he was up to.

A melancholy so unfamiliar to him gripped his heart and threatened to suck all the joy out of him. No matter how fast he spun in circles in the snowy yard, dodging people and grunting to those who spotted him, the emptiness in his chest refused to be dispelled. The more time he spent thinking about the golden days running around Kirkwall with his friends, the more his breath caught in his throat.

He had to get out of the cold, out of the stifling music of people seeking his attention. Before his patience wore thin and words he would later regret fell in torrents.

He stopped in the middle of the courtyard, ignoring the cheers of the children calling to him to join them in a game of hide and seek. Where could he find a warm place, away from the children who were now shouting to get his attention?

As he scanned the courtyard, his eyes lingered on the wooden door of the tavern. Normally, the busiest place in Skyhold at night. But in the morning it stood almost empty, as the people hurriedly went about their business.

"That should do it," he muttered under his breath. The children's disappointed whimpers stirred his guilt, and he made a mental note to make up for it later in the day. For now, he needed time to process the troublesome feelings that plagued him.

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