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“You owe Varric an apology.”
Cassandra looked up to see a young woman standing at her table. She was medium height, long dark hair, and pretty in a ‘girl next door’ way. She stood with her hands on her hips, her head tilted to the left, and a scowl firmly planted on her face.
“Excuse me,” Cassandra said.
The girl’s scowl deepened. “I said that you owe Varric an apology.”
The dwarf in question appeared to the woman’s right, an ale in each hand. “Sunshine,” he said. “Come have a drink. I don’t think we should be bothering the Seeker with this.”
“Shut up, Varric. I didn’t ask your opinion.” The girl glanced at Varric for only an instant before turning her glare back on Cassandra. At the present time, she wasn’t exuding much sunshine.
Cassandra stood and looked down on the young woman. “And who are you?” she asked imperiously.
“Bethany Hawke,” the woman replied. “As soon as you apologize to my friend, I’ll leave you to your drink.”
Hawke’s younger sister, Cassandra thought. She stood a little taller, raising her chin to better look down on the younger mage. “Why should I apologize to the Dwarf?” she asked.
“Well,” Bethany answered, holding up her hands to count Cassandra’s faults on her fingers. “You interrogated him like a criminal, you stabbed his book, you kidnapped him, and you tried to beat him up when he gave you what you wanted.
“You should apologize, and I’m not going to stop bothering you until you do.”
“You will be waiting a long time for that, Mistress Hawke,” Cassandra snapped.
The Seeker sat down, took a sip of wine, and picked up her book.
Bethany, however, wasn’t done. “Where did you get the idiotic idea that Garrett would be able to help stop the conflict?”
“I did read Varric’s book.” Cassandra hadn’t even bothered to look at Bethany when she said it. “Hawke was there when it all began. It stands to reason that both parties might have listened to him at the Conclave.”
Cassandra’s wine goblet almost tipped over when a copy of “Tales of the Champion” landed heavily on the wobbly table.
“This book?” Bethany asked scornfully.
“Yes.”
Beth pulled up a chair and sat facing the Seeker. There was a crowd forming, and Varric looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
“So, Seeker,” Bethany said. “I want you to take that book and show me a passage where Garrett actually talked his way out of trouble.”
“I…” Cassandra stuttered.
“Go ahead,” Bethany said, smirking. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”
Then she Bethany took an ale out of Varric’s hand and took a long drink.
Cassandra sat, staring at Bethany like she’d just been slapped with a dead nug. Truth be told, Bethany found the moment very gratifying.
“Look, Seeker,” she began. “I love my brother. He’s one of my favorite people in the world. But, and I hate to say it this way, but he’s not a very good problem solver.”
Somewhere in the background, Garrett Hawke was heard to yell, “Hey…”
Bethany answered without missing a beat. “Shut up, Garrett. You know it’s true.”
Bethany wasn’t through. “The two most common sentences out of his mouth are ‘I have matches,’ and ‘That didn’t turn out like I planned.’”
“She’s not wrong,” Varric said quietly.
“His basic methods for problem solving are killing it, setting it on fire, then killing it again.” Bethany was on a roll now, and the longer she talked the redder Cassandra got.
“He may have actually put out a fire once, but he probably just had to take a pee.”
“Ouch…“ Garrett answered. “That left a mark.”
“Mages and Templars were killing not only each other, but a lot of other people, too, and your idea was to add someone whose response to everything is to kill things?” Bethany paused for effect. “How in the absolute fuck did you think that was going to help?
“Make it make sense, Seeker,” she added. “I’m just not seeing it.”
Cassandra just stared for a few minutes while Bethany stared back.
Finally, being able to stand it no longer, Cassandra broke the silence. “When you put it that way…”
Bethany rolled her eyes. “So, you could say, that by refusing to tell you where Garrett was, Varric was actually keeping things from going worse.”
Bethany raised her eyebrows. “Right?”
Cassandra sighed.
“So, you should not just apologize, but thank Varric.”
Cassandra made a disgusted noise deep in her throat. That, she thought, was a bridge too far.
“I can see where an apology might not go amiss,” Cassandra admitted. “But I will not thank him for lying to me. He should have told me the truth.”
“I’ll accept that, Seeker.”
Cassandra picked up her book, then looked at Bethany as if wondering why she was still there. “Now would be an excellent time for that apology,” Bethany said.
The Seeker sighed. She would have preferred to do this without the audience, but it was clear that Bethany Hawke would not allow that. “I apologize, Varric, for… overreacting to Hawke’s appearance. It was ill done.”
Varric was all smiles and graciousness. “Thank you, Seeker. Your apology is acceptable.”
Beth stood and made a small bow to Cassandra before deftly catching a bag of coins.
Cassandra stood. The table shook and the wine glass tipped over. She quickly grabbed her copy of “Swords and Shields” before the wine reached it. “It was a bet!” she yelled.
“Of course, it was.” Bethany smiled sweetly. “Varric said I couldn’t do it, but years of negotiating between Carver and Garrett made me very persuasive.
“And you were unfair to Varric.” Bethany tossed the purse up in the air then caught it. “He really did deserve the apology.”
Her hands were balled into fists, and her eyebrows low enough to meet in the middle; Cassandra stormed out of the Herald’s Rest, determined to find the nearest training dummy to pummel. As she moved through the tavern, the crowd parted. No one was stupid enough to block her way out.
Bethany giggled and sat back down. “Buy a girl another drink, Varric?” she asked.
“Anything you want, Sunshine,” he answered, waving down a barmaid. “Anything you want.”