I've Got This Friend (irradiatedwarden)

[HoneyedHopes]

The coin quaked between her thumb and her forefinger, heating from the pressure of her fingertips. She knew she held the coin incorrectly, and that every gambling elf in her clan would have cringed at her grasp. But every time her heart groaned over her stupidity, begged her to put the thing away and call it all off, the wind would wrap around her wrist and hold it steady. It was the reminder that Falon'Din guided her fate today, and finally she would decide her future.


Heads, she would stay. Tails, and... Her gaze flicked to the towering gates of chains which made the entrance of Kirkwall. It caused her throat to tighten, butterflies roaring in her stomach. She flipped–threw–the coin, said a small prayer to the god of the dead, and waited to hear the coin nestle into the grass at her feet.


Of course, it hit her head instead.


Did that count as heads? Was Falon'Din laughing at her, punishing her for her foolish antics? But when she bent over to retrieve the silver coin, she was met with Mythal's flowing locks of hair tumbling down her backside. She smiled.


The walls were taller than she had expected, as well as the humans which clogged up the Gallows, all but blocking her entry. From under the hood of her green cloaked, she peered up at everything– the copper statues, weeping oxidation, the stairway which led to the center of the city, the gleam of import that bounced off every soldier's chestpiece. All of them were marvels.


But she could not marvel long at the city of chains, lest she stand out amongst the crowd. That wouldn't get her inside. So, she bowed her head and huddled against the edge of a gaggle of children, her shorter stature allowing her to disappear amongst the heads. It was a large family, with six or seven children, all crying out with hunger pains. The guards allowed the mother to pass and she ushered her kids along. Neither the guard nor the parent thought twice of the extra head that slipped past.


Finally, she made it to her destination, a vast courtyard filled with stalls and stalls of goods. She ignored most of them, eyes keen for one particular merchant. When she saw her, she rushed over, not bothering to contain her broad, giddy grin.


There weren't many novels to choose from, which disappointed her, but nonetheless she was grateful for the chance to look at new material. She wished she could buy them all. She felt the cinch of metal in her coin-purse as she shifted her hip, and knew that she'd barely have enough for one book, let alone two dozen. So, she picked out the one that looked the best. Vines and flowers crawled up the painted edges of one, encircling a proud couple with golden crowns. That would do nicely.


"How much for this one?" She asked.


"Twenty silver," the bookkeeper said, two dark eyes staring down a crooked nose. She pulled her cloak a little tighter and said, "What about 10 silvers?"


"You playing me for a fool, girl?" The woman spat.


"No, no, it's just that, I only have twenty silvers on me at the moment, and I need enough to buy bread for my family. Please, I'll come back tomorrow with more and I'll buy another book. Please?" She continued to plead silently with her large, mossy eyes.


The bookkeeper spat again, but nodded. She thanked her quickly, and rummaged through her purse, collecting the coins which she'd borrowed–admittedly, stolen–from her keeper the day before. But when she set them on the counter, the woman's darker glower grew darker.


"You do take me for the fool, I see. This ain't worth shit."


"What?" She stuttered. That couldn't be right. They'd had the coins for years, and used them when rations were low. "That can't be right."


"Give me back my book," The woman growled. Instinctively, the elf moved backwards, clutching the book to her chest. It was the wrong move. Before she could think, apologize, give the book back, the woman already had the call for the guards at her lips.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

The people. That was what always got him these days. So many people crawled in to the city in droves, in waves of sorrow and angst. This place wasn't their home, and Maker, sometimes he thought that they would have been better off staying wherever they came from. Most of them would fall to the wayside, be crushed under the heel of the statues and choked by their chains. Except...one.


Varric pondered the thought, trying to line out the plan he'd been working on when a voice caught his attention. It shouldn't have. There was nothing special about the voice, nothing romantically lilting or ground-trembling commanding. It was just a voice. But still, he paused.


Turning his head the dwarf looked to the stall, recognizing it instantly. Of course he would, what with his own line of work. It was the small elf, however, that he didn't recognize. His boots kicked up fine dust that had settled on the stone as he smoothly closed the distance between himself and the situation that seemed interesting.


"Now it might just be me, but I feel like there might be a problem here." A lackadaisical grin showed his teeth and painted his words with a warm friendliness that made him popular at bars.


He placed himself next to the elf, leaning on the counter of the stall as he looked between the women. The warmth of his words was mirrored in his eyes, though, a certain sharpness glimmered there as well. Oh yes, he was thinking, slowly piecing that same plan together once more. Varric could see a story here, a thread that he thought would weave well with the narrative he had already drawn together in his thoughts. The elf looked scared, bewildered perhaps.


Yeah, she'd do.


"Anything I can do to help sort this little mess out?" The question was aimed at the shopkeeper.

 

[HoneyedHopes]

It was not a human guard who came to collect her, but a dwarf, clean shaven and wearing a lazy grin for all to see. it was enough to pause the shopkeeper's shouts for help, but not enough to keep her from growling, stalking out from behind the table and yanking the elf by the arm with her iron fingers.


"This brat tried to steal from me. I'll get what's due," the woman cursed, voice warbling with fury. The elf tried–though not with much effort–to free herself from the grip.


"Please, it's not like that. I have money, she just won't take it!" She would've held out her hand to show the dwarf, but the the woman rattled away at her arm, making it impossible to hold out a steady hand. "I'll give the book back, I swear it. Just let me go."


The woman hissed through broken teeth. She would not budge until she saw the elf in a cell.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Ah, so that was the situation. Maybe if it had been someone else Varric would have assumed the worst, but the elf girl seemed genuine in her words, her pleas, and yet, it was her eyes that did him in. Maker he was always a sucker for the puppy-eyes wasn't he? Got him in to more trouble than he'd ever like to admit.


He moved again, placing himself in front of the shopkeeper so she was effectively barred off from the rest of the square. Well, as effective as he could be at barring people off. His arms spread easily at his side, a welcoming gesture.


"Well it seems to me like this is all a misunderstanding, one the guards are more likely to huff at than anything, right? They have more important things to do, like chasing down terrifying Fereldens and dashing rogues than dealing with such a small matter."


He winked at the elf at the mention of dashing rogues.


"Surely we can handle this ourselves, right? How about this, you tell me what that book is worth and I'll spot the girl."

 

[HoneyedHopes]

The shopkeeper eyed the dwarf for a few seconds, then pushed the elf with rough force towards him. Toes caught the cobblestones, and she barely caught herself on his shoulder before her face met with the pavement.


"Twenty-five silvers," growled the woman.


The elf floundered. "But earlier you said twenty–"


"And now I'm raising it for all the trouble you've caused me, brat. Twenty-five silvers." They both stared at the dwarf, the bookkeeper glaring, the elf wringing her hands.

 

[Interstellar Bun]

The force on his shoulder startled him for a moment, but he remained steady as the elf righted herself. After sparing her a glance to make sure that she was okay, Varric turned his gaze on the shopkeeper. What a piece of work.


"Not the first time that's happened when I was involved."


Reaching into his coin purse, he counted out twenty-five silvers and placed them on the counter.


"I wish I could say it was a pleasure doing business with you, but I'm afraid I'm not the best liar." He turned to look at the elf, face relaxing into that same easy expression once more. Twenty-five silver was nothing compared to what he was aiming for.


He just had to get all the pieces together.


"Come on, let's go chat for a moment before you manage to go find any more trouble."

 

[Interstellar Bun]

The elf had come out of no where. It was only when her hand touched him, weight pressing against his body that Nathan even realized she was there. She said something, the word a blur in his thoughts before she was off running again. His hand went to his hip, fingers brushing against the empty space where his coin purse once rested. Panic sunk in, head snapping to watch as the thief ran.


Starting off after her, Nathan barely started to close the distance when the woman stopped, pinned to a wall with a bolt that seemed to have come out of nowhere.


He slowed to a stop, watching as Varric made his way out of shadows.


He paid the elf no attention aside from giving her a reassuring glance that lasted no longer than half a heart beat. Reaching out, he took the coin purse from Daisy and offered it to the older Hawke.


"The name's Varric Tethras, at your service."


Nathan looked to his coin purse, holding it tightly in his hands before he hooked it back on to his belt.


"You have good aim." The words came softly, low and rumbling like thunder in his throat. "Thank you."

 

[HoneyedHopes]

She'd agreed to steal the purse–only under the assurance that she could return the purse–but she hadn't realized the agreement also entailed getting shot.


Nor did she realize how badly arrow wounds to the shoulder could burn. of course she'd when injured before; she'd broken her arm twice falling out of trees. The throbbing pain of a broken limb was nothing like the piercing flames that licked at her now. Plus, she could feel the blood trickling down her pants. 


After Varric tossed the purse back to the human, he turned his attention to her briefly, if only to pluck the arrow from her shoulder and threaten her with a convincing amount of bravado. If not for the wink, Daisy might've believed the venom in his tone. She was set free, so she fled around the corner, still within earshot. She wanted to hear what she had bled for. 

 

[Interstellar Bun]

Varric glanced at Daisy as she ran off, a pang of guilt hitting the back of his thoughts. He pushed it to the side, opting to worry about it later. No, right now he had business to conduct and he had two fantastic people to conduct it with. That charming smile still on his lips, he weaved his tale of opportunity, gauging the boys' reactions. For a brief moment he wondered if they'd even be interested, but he could see the glimmer in their eyes, the look of hope. He had them, and he knew it. Or he thought he did. That worry came back when he saw Carver tap Nathan's shoulder. Instead of pulling him aside, his hands moved easily, like water.


Nathan responded in kind, his own hands weaving poetry that Varric couldn't understand. And yet, as soon as their conversation started, it stopped.


"We'll get the gold."


That was all Varric needed to hear. Offering to meet the brothers later at the Hanged Man, he politely excused himself and slipped away. Looking unperturbed, he rounded the corner Daisy had vanished behind. She...didn't look so good.


"So a thief and an eaves dropper?" He 'tisked' at her, that warm smile still lingering on his features. "Should have known you'd be trouble."

 

[HoneyedHopes]

Daisy, of course, blustered. "Y-you shot me!" She had been crouching, leaning against the mossy brick wall, but now she stood up to tower over the elf. She still held her bleeding shoulder, with blood trickling between her fingers. "Who's the real criminal here? I should turn you into the guards."


She huffed, feeling moderately out of breath, silence hovering between them.


"Who were those guys, anyway?"

 

[Interstellar Bun]

"Oh come on," he held his hands out, a friendly motion, "there's no need to get the guards involved in a simple business transaction is there? Here, let me make it up to you. I happen to know someone who does decent patch work, and I'll even buy you a drink after. How's that sound?"


He paused, realizing her second question. He looked back over his shoulder, as though the two might still be there for him to motion at. They were, in fact, not. 


"And those, Books, are the Hawke brothers. Have you heard of them? They've been doing some...interesting work, made a pretty decent name for themselves in the past year in the right circles. Or, wrong circles I suppose." He started walking, motioning for Daisy to follow him. Getting the guards involved for shooting someone wasn't exactly his plan at the moment, and he figured if he could keep her with him, he'd be fine. "Well, mostly the tall one has, the one you happened to steal from."

 

[HoneyedHopes]

A snort escaped her. 'Happened to', yeah right. But she wouldn't say no to a patch up job. She was feeling more than woozy. So she followed the dwarf, peering over his head as the clean, well-kept buildings gradually disintegrated into poverty. Before she knew it, she was staring at a swinging sign, the picture of a man hung upside down.


"Nice place," she said, sarcasm clouding her voice. She missed her forests. They stepped inside, and through the loud bar chatter, she asked, " And why, exactly, do you want these Hawkes to work for you?"