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A Morning to Remember
Hawke walked through the streets of Lowtown, fur collar hugging her neck. Hooded figures in shadowed alleyways glanced up at her as she approached, but quickly averted their gazes when she looked up at them. A younger man with sharp cheekbones and buggy eyes didn’t avert his gaze when she noticed him, looking a little too long. Long enough for Hawke to make eye contact. She winked and he gaped. A fast hand clapped him behind the head and Hawke heard the hissing of a lecture.
‘Sorry,’ she mouthed and continued on her way to her favorite place in the city.
The Hanged Man was quiet this morning except for the waitress who was playing a game of cards by herself next to the fireplace, and a drunkard who had passed out—face planted sideway on the table, his mouth hanging open and a pool of drool starting to form below his face.
The waitress nodded at Hawke when she saw her. By this point, she was used to seeing the Champion at the Hanged Man all hours of the day. Hawke stepped past the waitress and conked out man, making her way up the stairs to the rooms in the back.
Varric’s door was open slightly. She smiled at that and pushed it open more with some polite knocks, making sure that it opened to her posing casually against the frame of the door.
“Boo.”
“You always had that flare for the dramatic.” She found her favorite dwarf over a table filled with breakfast foods. He slathered some piping hot bread with butter and looked up at her standing in the doorway. A fire crackled in the corner, warming her chilled bones from the walk over.
“Get in here, silly woman.” Varric gestured to the food in a way that said ‘help yourself’.
“Door open?” She asked.
“Closed.” He paused his slathering. “What? Did you think I was expecting more company?”
Hawke closed the door behind her. “Well, you are very popular these days being a famous author and all. Don’t you have admirers swarming to you and that magnificent chest hair?”
“Sure, I do. But do I want those fans anywhere near me? I think not. Fans are crazy, Hawke. They’d probably try and cut some of my chest hair off and stick it in some creepy locket.”
She sat down across from him and couldn’t help but smile. Varric always put her in a good mood.
“Anyway…” he pointed the butter knife at her. “Do you really think I give away my friendship so easily?”
“Hmm…” she grinned. “So what if I asked for a tuft of that beautiful chest hair?”
He paused, quirked an eyebrow, shrugged and pulled a dagger from his boot. With a quick motion he grabbed a bit of the red hair on his chest, sliced and handed it over before Hawke stop him.
“Here,” he said.
She gaped.
“Your hand, please.”
She held out her hand, her mouth still not closing properly. He chuckled. One spot of hair on his chest was now shorter than the rest.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she finally managed.
“You keep underestimating our bonds, dear Champion. You can ask me for anything.”
“Well then…” She took the lock of hair and tucked it into a hidden pocket by her own chest. “I’ll just keep this right here. Like a creep.” She winked.
His eyes gleamed and he smiled, raising a glass to that.
She took a mug and walked over to the fireplace, grabbing the metal pitcher there with a nearby glove to pour the contents into her mug. It smelled of darkly roasted coffee beans.
“Antivan?”
“Of course. Their stuff is the best.”
She sat back down and Varric slid her a plate with everything loaded on. Eggs. Bacon. Fresh bread. Berries.
She dug in.
It didn’t take her long. And when she was stuffing the last bite into her mouth, a card landed in front of her.
“One round?” Varric asked.
She knocked on the table, signaling she was in. “You better watch out. I’ve been practicing with Isabela.”
“Riviani is talented at many things. This being one of them, I agree. But she’s an amateur compared to me.”
“Oh yeah?”
He dealt the cards.
“What are the stakes then?”
“If you win, you stick with your original plan and leave this afternoon. If I win, you spend the next two days with me and we party together—one last time. Don’t worry. I checked with Fenris and you can lie low at his place if you need.”
Hawke leaned in. “How about we up the stakes?”
Varric had a great poker face. Nothing could crack him. And more than anything, Hawke wanted to see him lose his cool.
“If you win, I’ll stay and party with you, like you ask. But if I win, instead of going off to Fenris’s place…I stay here, and we spend the night together.”
Varric’s eyes widened and he swallowed. He smiled—a cautious smile. “I’ve told you already, Hawke…” he tried to put on his normal, jovial air.
“I know, I know. Bianca.”
His smile cracked.
“I won’t try anything funny—promise. I…I want to be close to you just once…” she gulped, feeling her cheeks flush. She had promised herself she was never going to reveal anything to Varric, and yet, here she was—giving away all her secrets to him. Again. “I need this.”
“Hawke…”
“I know you love her. Don’t worry. I won’t cross any boundaries. We’ll be like two old people who have been paralyzed from the waist down.”
He sighed but he wasn’t protesting.
“I know you can’t love me like that. So, this will be the small gift you give to me before I leave. A memento of sorts.”
His smile was gone and his face looked pained. It made Hawke’s heart clench. Shit. She didn’t want to give him that face….
“Come on, Hawke. I’ve stuck around for seven years.” He looked up at her. “I wouldn’t do that for anyone.”
“Because I’m your best friend, right?” She smiled but her lip quivered. Come on, don’t cry. Not now.
“Yes, you’re my best friend.”
She smiled wider to try and cover up the feeling of her heart clenching and the tears threatening to gloss over her eyes.
“But…” he took a deep breath. “I care about you as more than just a friend too. I…” He reached a hand over the table. Hawke took it and noticed that small patch of chest hair that was shorter than the rest. But more than that, she noticed the faded scars all over him. Over both of them. They had been through everything together and protected each other through it all. Varric always had her back just as she always had his.
“Hawke…no…” he shook his head. “Marian.”
That was it. The tears came free and when he saw them, all his walls came crumbling down before her. His face softened and his eyes met hers. “Great Ancestors, Marian, I love you. I do. So much. Maybe too much.”
“W-what?” her voice shaked. “But I thought…”
Varric nodded, reading her thoughts before she could finish her sentence. It happened a lot with them. After seven years, spending nearly every day together, you grew to really know a person.
“I know. And I do love Bianca but it’s…different. That was an alliance that grew out of convenience and sex.”
Hawke winced.
His jaw clenched. “Sorry,” he said, noticing her reaction. He let out a slow breath. “Look, Bianca is brilliant. I admire her for that and I wanted to help her reach her goals…but I always knew that if the stakes were high enough, she would use me for her own gain.” He shrugged. “And I was okay with that. I had accepted that as our relationship.”
He squeezed Hawke’s hand. “But with you, it’s more. I would do anything for you, and I think—I know it in my bones—that you would do anything for me too. I can feel it. I can hear you think it sometimes. Is that crazy?”
He lowered his head, shaking it. “Do I sound crazy?”
“No. You don’t.” She squeezed his hand back.
He lifted his head to meet her eyes once more, his face a mixture of all kinds of emotions—joy, elation, confusion, compassion, wonder….
“I love you, Marian Hawke. More than I’ve loved anything or anyone. And it scares the piss out of me.”
Her heart burst inside her, threatening to make her glow. She could feel it pouring out of her cheeks, causing her to flush and warming the faster-falling tears.
He let go of her hand and walked around the whole of the table to come sit by her, holding out his hand once more. She took it. The proximity to him felt wonderful. She wanted to be closer but she held back.
He wiped away her tears with a gentle thumb. “I can’t stop it. Believe me, I’ve tried. You want to know the truth?”
Hawke nodded, wordlessly.
“Bianca and I haven’t…connected…in years, Hawke. We were in communication for a little while after I met you, but as you and I spent more time together, I found myself not writing as much. When I did, it was all business related.”
Wait… Hawke thought. Did that mean all this time when he would talk about Bianca to everyone…?
“Then, about four years ago, I broke things off with her.”
No way….
“I’ve been in love with you all this time, but I never wanted you to feel…I don’t know…regret.”
“Regret?” Her voice cracked a little from the crying. “That’s impossible.”
“Hawke, c’mon,” he said in that husky voice, a hint of an unhumorous chuckle at the edges of it. “Our union wouldn’t exactly be normal. In fact, it’s looked down on by many. There’s a reason why you can’t find any good books in this world on humans and dwarves.”
“You’ve written one. If I recall, we’re flirting all the time in it.”
“My way of coping. Both in the book and in real life. Our jokes and flirtations keep me sane.”
“You too?”
There was a pause. A moment that they just looked at each other, feeling the closeness. And there was that feeling…as if they were in one another’s heads, hearing what the other was thinking…feeling what the other was feeling. The touch of their hands became unbearable. It wasn’t enough.
Hawke needed more.
In a swift motion, he stood, a leg on either side of the bench—so he was a good deal taller than Hawke. He leaned down and kissed her. The hand he wasn’t using to hold hers went to the nape of her neck. Supporting her as she had to crane up to keep her lips locked with his. And she never wanted it to stop.
She certainly never thought she would have to crane up to kiss the man.
She squeezed his hand before pulling her own hand away a little so she could move it to his chest. It did feel quite amazing. More than she thought.
He moaned a little into her lips which made her even more frenzied. She opened her lips so he could have better access. He was gentle at first. Tentative. But the moment their tongues touched, things got…heated. Fast.
She knew she loved Varric. But Maker, she didn’t expect to be so…so…
His free hand made its way around her back and down to her waist. He supported her as they kissed fervently.
With a groan against her lips, he stopped himself.
“Nooo…” Hawke whined and pulled him back to her.
He obliged and kissed her once more, pulling her tight against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he wrapped his other arm around her waist. He was strong. Stronger than she expected.
He broke off the kiss but before she could complain he swooped her up and brought her to the bed, setting her down gently. She looked down at the bed then up at him in surprise. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
“Me neither.”
She grinned and grabbed his collar, tugging downwards. He followed her down to the mattress.
“Hawke…Marian…” he was breathless now. “Are you sure?”
She realized that she had never actually said the words back.
“I love you, Varric Tethras,” she panted. “I have for a long time. A painfully long time.”
She looked into his eyes—those beautiful eyes that resembled the setting sun on gray stone. She craned her neck so her lips touch his—barely. “I need you,” she whispered into the kiss.
All the tension he had been holding in his body to stop himself melted onto her so that they became a tangled mess, losing a shirt here, a shoe there, shedding garments until they were both completely naked.
Hawke shivered at the feeling, goosebumps rising on her skin, despite being completely overwarm.
She had no other way to describe this feeling other than right. Totally and completely right.
It was so odd. She’d often daydream about this moment, thinking of it being awkward in some way or another because of the height difference or the pure, unfiltered access to the chest hair that everyone always joked about….
But it wasn’t. Notin the slightest. It all just felt…strangely and wonderfully right.
He paused for a moment, hovering above her prone form, his eyes checking in with her without a word. She nodded to him. He pressed into her slowly.
She moaned. Without thinking, she grabbed his buttocks and pulled him into her, surprising them both with the sensations. Sensations that reached Hawke from the tip of her fingers all the way down in her toes and alighting at her center. Waves of heat, and pleasant, slow-motion electric shocks took turns coursing through her.
“Mmm…ah..M…”
“Maker…”
“Maker…”
They said in unison. Both laughed a little, causing a whole range of new sensations to course through them and the laughter turned to moans.
She pulled him deeper and he didn’t fully resist her, but instead went torturously…delightfully…slow.
“You…” she breathed. “...tease.”
Varric groaned, shaking his head. “No, love. I won’t tease you. Not today.”
He rested fully inside her now, not daring to move. They both breathed heavily.
“How is this possible?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” he responded.
They weren’t even moving and she felt like she was already on the edge of climaxing.
He moved. Barely pulling out. Yet it still caused them both to gasp the other’s name.
“Merciful Andraste, I won’t be able to last long like this Hawke,” he moaned as he shifted back into her.
“Me neither. I can’t…ah!” her words cut off as he found a smooth rhythm, grinding into her.
She was pulled to the edge once more and felt herself becoming lost in Varric. Without thinking, without needing to think, her own hips began moving in time with his—finding a perfect unison.
Much like their synchronicity in battle, they matched each other's pacing perfectly and complimented the other’s movements without having to communicate it.
There was no more doubt about it. They had crazy chemistry.
“I can’t—I can’t hold on anymore…!” Hawke cried out, her mind going white. She reached out for Varric but he was already there with her, holding her close to him, his body covering hers as he fell with her into an ecstatic oblivion.
They laid there, breathing fast, not daring to let each other go. As the minutes passed, their breathing slowed and their heartbeats stopped drumming frenetic rhythms into each others’ chests.
They both took the same, deep breath in unison.
“Paragons have mercy,” Varric said.
“Andraste’s breath,” Hawke said. “What just happened?”
“Ummm…I think the both of us just died. And were reborn.”
Hawke nodded her head, the sensation feeling pure and new. “Yep. Sure. Makes sense.”
“I feel like I could fistfight the Maker right now. And win.” Varric shifted his weight and rolled to her side. She curled up next to him.
“I feel like if someone burned me to ashes, those ashes could heal all the abominations in the world.”
He stretched out his arm so her head had a cozy spot to rest, and began massaging her scalp affectionately. “I feel like I could fend off a thousand archdemons with a single punch.”
“I feel like I could beat Aveline in a one-on-one duel.”
“Well that’s just going too far.”
“Damn it. You’re right.”
A contagious laugh bubbled up from within Hawke and immediately infected Varric. He shook beneath her as they both lost all control.
All they could do was laugh:
Laugh at how they met. Laugh at how they became friends and constantly bantered and joked with each other. Laugh at the years they had spent loving each other and not daring to tell the other—opting honesty for aggressive flirting that drove the rest of their companions mad. Laugh at how perfect they fit together now, when they were off the battlefield and in a bed.
The sparkling laughter died down and Hawke dried her face from new kinds of tears. Tears of pure joy. Ones she hadn’t had…maybe ever.
Varric turned slightly and wrapped his other arm around her to hug her—squeezing her and kissing her forehead.
She breathed in deep and sighed contentedly. “Wow.”
“You can say that again.”
“Wow.”
“Smartass.”
Hawke pointed over to the table with their abandoned card game. “Still feel like playing?”
“If you plan on ditching me right after sex like a cheap date, you can bet your perfect asscheeks we’re playing.”
“How about this? If I win, I’ll stay and face the Seeker of Truth with you.”
Varric’s face turned solemn now. “No way, Hawke. There’s no way I’m letting them get to you.”
“Then you’ll have to beat me, Tethras.”
He nodded. “I will. And I’ll be facing the Seeker alone.”
Hawke smiled sadly. Despite Isabela training her on Wicked Grace, Isabela had never beaten Varric when he was serious about winning. No one had.
“Then what do you bet?”
“One final day with a sliiiight change of plans. We move the party to the bedroom.”
She grinned and kissed his chest. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Varric Tethras.”