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jellydishes · 9 months

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Hidden beneath Bethany’s leggings was a flash of cream colored cotton that made Varric’s chest go strangely tight. His eyebrows went up as her leggings went down, baring a pair of thigh high stockings. He stared. They were soft to the touch, the cotton clearly of a higher quality than he usually saw her wear, which meant that they had been specifically saved up for. He didn’t have to look up at Bethany to know what expression she would be wearing on her face, and in a way he was more than a little uncertain about doing so.

He stared.

Threaded through the cuff of the stocking was a silk ribbon. It was thin, and worn to the point that it was hard to tell if it had originally been black or green, but the rasp of it against his calloused palms sent shivers up his spine.

The garter belt it was attached to, however, was much newer.

If he hadn’t already been kneeling, that may well have brought him to his knees. Varric didn’t say a word. Couldn’t. His tongue felt too thick and clumsy for something that felt so delicate, as liable to come apart in his rough hands as an old bit of silk. He felt Bethany go still where she sat, and Varric had to pause again, eyes falling shut against the words clamoring to be said.

His silence was full to bursting as Bethany bent to press her lips to his forehead, her curls tumbling down to curtain his face. They hid her expression just as effectively as they did his own, which was perhaps the point. “Do you like them?” If the room hadn’t been so still, he would have had to strain to hear her. As it was, the only thing he heard more clearly was the thundering beat of his own heart.

“Sunshine,” he said in a tone just as hushed, just as careful, “Bethany. If I liked these any more, I would have dropped dead on the spot.”

She made a soft noise that might have been a laugh, and wrapped her arms around him. She didn’t care about her state of undress anymore, or if she did, she had set aside that particular bit of self-consciousness in her relief. For his part, Varric was certainly well aware of it. Actually found it easier to touch her in some ways when all he could see was her face, especially when his hands swept across the raised, puckered burn scars that spattered the front of her thighs.

They were small things, no larger than a droplet, but almost a dozen of them were scattered across her skin like someone had been shaking rainwater off of their hands. According to Bethany, that was almost exactly what had happened, except that it hadn’t been water she had been practicing summoning with her father that day.

“Bethany.” He kept his eyes trained on hers as he bent his head and pressed his lips to each one. “Every one of these is more than reason enough to find you…” He paused, and he knew she thought he was going to say ‘beautiful,’ the way everyone did. Instead, he dropped his eyes away and kissed the nearest scar again as if he could kiss away the fear and guilt she had described seeing on her father’s face, that he saw again in hers every time he looked at these scars. But less, every time. He only wished, lips curving in a silent prayer, that she would want him beside her long enough to see the day there would be nothing in her eyes but happiness at seeing him.

#I DON'T REMEMBER WRITING THIS????#except the part about the scars #the rest of it might as well have been written by anybody #bethany x varric #varric tethras #Bethany Hawke #Dragon Age

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psalacanthea · 2 years

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banter just because >)

...

Bethany: You two are the absolute worst.

Varric: What do you mean, Sunshine?

Bethany: If anyone offends you, even the slightest bit, you hold onto the grudge far beyond what any reasonable person would.

Varric: Hey, I try to be forgiving.

Bethany: No. You hold grudges for my sister, and she holds grudges for you. You two never forgive anyone who offends the other. You’re vengeful, protective monsters.

Varric: Now that’s not fair.

Bethany: No? So you’re just torturing Sebastian because my sister wants you to?

Varric: (Laughs.) I’m sorry, are you sticking up for him?

Bethany: She forgave him. You’re bullying the Prince of Starkhaven, to the detriment of your entire city, because he once broke your wife’s heart.

Varric: Here’s a thought, maybe he shouldn’t be so easy to bully.

Bethany: I can’t believe we ever thought you two weren’t in love with each other.

Varric: Just to prove you wrong, I’m not going to give him the wobbly chair at the Tourney feast.

Bethany: Yes you are!

Varric: Well, someone has to take it.

#Varric Tethras #Bethany Hawke #Dragon Age Banter #post-canon #Hawke x Varric

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mass-effect-galaxy · 1 year

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youtube

Dragon Age 2 - The Movie

This is the "Tale of the Champion" who came to Kirkwall as a poor refugee and rose to the rank of the Champion of Kirkwall - losing everything she had on that path.

#dragon age #dragonage2 #dragon age 2 #marian hawke #femhwake #female hawke #varric tethras #bethany hawke #aveline vallen #isabela #hawke x anders #Youtube

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renegade-inator · 1 year

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I have discovered my art folder from 2014 so uH this would be part 1: a Dragon Age 2 modern AU

^ Fenris and Hawke already knew each other when they met an a dance class (yes idk either)

^ tHE SCENE

^ Hawke you’re drunk

^ Sebastian’s younger days

Hawke and HoF taking a selfie

#dragon age #dragon age 2 #female hawke #sebastian vael #da2 fenris #sebhawke #varric tethras #aveline vallen #bethany hawke #sebastian x hawke #hero of ferelden #I did not improve since then and it’s kind of sad)

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eeveevie · 4 years

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february ‘20 fic masterpost

Remember how I went on a crazy 29 day T-Swift song inspired ficlet post frenzy?!

what a wonderful idea that was, ME! (see what I did there) oooohhhoooo~~

Anyways, as always, here’s all the stories I posted in February–everything you may have missed in the month, all in one convenient place!

Dragon Age:

Alistair x Evelyn Cousland (F! Warden):

I Think He Knows | 859 words

Morrigan is thoroughly disgusted by how completely lovesick Evelyn and Alistair are. Okay, okay, she can be a supportive friend, when needed.

Ours | 877 words

Alistair and Evelyn find themselves isolated, despite knowing they have made the right decision for their future.

State of Grace | 671 words

Evelyn and Alistair spend some quality time in their little love nest. (Modern AU)

Dress | 981 words

Agreeing to a real date was probably the worst idea ever, right? Alistair in full blow panic mode, and Evelyn is oblivious, or is she? (Modern AU)

This Love | 656 words

Alistair and Evelyn reflect on the emotional setbacks they’ve taken to get where they are now. (Modern AU)

Mine | 648 words

Alistair and Evelyn struggle to figure out the finer details of being together, swearing to never end up like their parents or failed relationships. (Modern AU)

You Are In Love

Evelyn comes to a startling revelation while sharing night-guard duties with Alistair.

Varric Tethras x Bethany Hawke:

Gorgeous | 816 words

Bethany likes Varric. Loathes the fact she does, but can’t escape it. Oh well, what’s a girl to do?

It’s Nice To Have a Friend | 778 words

Varric and Bethany spend some quality time together, even if it is just the two of them sneaking around the city at night.

Getaway Car 985 words

Bethany contemplates a future with Varric, despite that they are (currently) no longer together.

The Lucky One | 753 words

Bethany thought returning to Kirkwall would be easier, but at least with Varric around, it isn’t so bad.

New Romantics | 787 words

Varric and Bethany drunkenly discuss the woes of their romantic pasts—or lack thereof—and toast to their future.

Elder Scrolls: Skyrim:

Brynjolf x Fiona Bloom-Holt (F! Dragonborn):

The Archer | 957 words

Fiona struggles with her insecurities when faced with becoming Guildmaster. Brynjolf reminds her that she isn’t alone.

King of My Heart | 672 words

Fiona daydreams about taking a break from thieving to try the domesticated life with Brynjolf. There’s always time for rooftop romance.

Paper Rings | 1266 words

Brynjolf’s proposal doesn’t go according to plan, but it isn’t the end for his relationship with Fiona, despite his lamenting.

Lover | 1262 words

It’s Fiona’s birthday, and she would rather spend it alone as she’s always done. Brynjolf quickly changes her mind.

Blank Space | 1022 words

Fiona travels to Solitude, following a lead on the Stones of Barenziah. While there, she meets a rather insufferable, yet charming, red-headed thief.

Daylight | 854

Fiona expresses more of her feelings to Brynjolf. He thinks it might be time to do the same.

Shake It Off | 734 words

Fiona is the master of her own destiny; don’t try to tell her otherwise.

Call It What You Want | 760 words

Fiona and Brynjolf engage in some early morning pillow-talk, unable to escape their love-nest.

Fallout 4:

Danse x Madelyn Hardy (F! Sole Survivor):

Wildest Dreams | 1054 words

Danse knows he needs to leave, but his regrets concerning Madelyn are holding him back.

New Year’s Day | 797 words

A slow dance in a restored home on New Year’s Day.

Our Song | 720 words

Madelyn teaches Danse that you don’t always need music to have a song.

Deacon x Madelyn Hardy aka Charmer (F! Sole Survivor):

Delicate | 949 words

Madelyn can’t stop staring at Deacon, desperately trying to get a peek of those baby blues again. Oh, and her tipsy inner monologue.

Treacherous | 818 words

Daydreaming is all well and fine, unless you find yourself focusing on your partner’s lips longer than you should.

False God | 2441 words

Deacon tries to make the best of a lover’s quarrel in one of the ways he knows best. With his mouth. (NSFW)

Style | 985 words

A little bit of flirting goes too far and Madelyn worries shes fractured the first real bond she’s made since leaving the vault.

Holy Ground | 1181 words

Madelyn has another biblical lesson for Deacon, this time with dance instructions.

Madelyn Hardy x Nathaniel James (Sole Survivor Spouse):

Red | 1079 words

It’s an anniversary, of sorts. Madelyn describes to Nick what her husband was like.

#dragon age #alistair x f!cousland #varric tethras x bethany hawke #fallout 4 #deacon x f!solesurvivor #danse x f!solesurvivor #elder scrolls: skyrim #brynjolf x f!dovakin #dragon age au #fanfic #t-swift february fics #long post

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blighted-elf · 3 years

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My favourite Varric/Cassandra banters about Hawke

#Dragon Age #DAI #Dragon Age Inquisition #Hawke #Marian Hawke #Hawkebela #Isabela #Varric Tethras #Varric #Cassandra Pentaghast #Cassandra #Bethany Hawke #Hawke x Isabela #DA banter #OC: Marian Hawke #Blighted Posts #Couldn't get the 'I spy' banter to trigger but that one too lmao

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fanfoolishness · 2 years

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under a new morning sun (3/?)

Turns out, being trapped in the Fade isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Rogue Min Hawke learned this at Adamant. Luckily for her, her lover Varric Tethras refused to believe that she was really gone.

Varric rescued Hawke from the Fade with the help of the Inquisition, but there were consequences. Spending time in the physical Fade has left them Fade-touched: Varric is now a dwarf who can dream, and Hawke has developed mage abilities. Together, they’ve returned to Kirkwall for a well-deserved rest.

Old estrangements, new powers, and ghosts from the past make for a homecoming that doesn’t exactly go as planned, even as the Inquisition’s mission marches on and Kirkwall struggles to rebuild. Hawke must find a way to master her newfound magic and strike a path forward with family, friends and Varric at her side.

Chapter 1: Rearranged | Chapter 2: Making the Rounds

Chapter 3: in the evening hour

“I’ve gotten better at cooking, you know,” said Hawke, peering at the market stalls in Hightown, searching for something for dinner. She paused over a tray of Orlesian cheeses, breathing deeply in the cool fall air. “Though sometimes, it’s the simple things in life that are best. Bread and cheese for a first course tonight?”

“I’m happy for anything that isn’t hardtack,” said Varric. “The last few days of the journey here were getting pretty grim. You know it’s bad when an eel pie at the Hanged Man feels like a decadent treat.”

“Well, once I get settled, I’ve got some ideas. Ooh, that looks lovely.” She peered at a display of goat cheeses and fresh butter. “There’s an Antivan recipe I want to try for a second course. Needs loads of spices but it’s absurdly good. We’ll see if they’ve got anything close here.”

“What’s this? A Fereldan, talking about spices? I’ve never heard the like,” said Varric.

“Come off it, you,” Hawke laughed. “I know I might have been a rubbish cook before -- I mean, I’d never really learned how -- but I’ve gotten more adventurous. You know the first thing I learned to make on my own?”

“Besides Kirkwall Surprise?” asked Varric. He made a face.

She chuckled. “I’ve come a long way since those Sundermount trips, Varric. No, the first thing was roasted rabbit, with herbed new potatoes.”

He considered. “Sounds fancy.”

“Anders and I were desperate,” she said, shrugging. “We hadn’t seen any game for ages, and were down to one last packet of hardtack with two days to the next town. Molossus saved the day, brought us a brace of rabbits. Anders wasn’t… well, you know how he was, leading up to what happened, and it was worse, after.” She sighed, handing over a beautiful little goat cheese adorned with chestnut leaves for the cheesemonger to wrap up. “So I tried to do something to cheer us up. I thought, really thought, of how my dad and Carver used to do roast rabbit and chicken back in Lothering. I cleaned them myself. Sniffed every plant around camp until I came up with rosemary and elfroot and thyme.”

She handed the cheesemonger a silver and slipped the wrapped cheese into her bag, heading to the next market stall where Seheron peppers, Rivaini maize and Fereldan potatoes spilled forth in huge tubs. She bundled together a few of the huge Fereldan potatoes, giving the stallkeeper a handful of coppers, but also picked up a few of the sharp, spicy peppers.

“Anders saw that I was really trying, so he started looking around, too. I thought he was crazy to pull up a bunch of green stems, but when I realized they were potatoes I was so excited. He got the fire properly hot enough with a bit of magic, and I was just guessing on the cooking times, really, but do you know, it’s one of the best meals I’ve ever had in my life.”

Varric glanced up at her. “You miss him, being back here.” There was no hint of jealousy on his broad, open face: just a quiet understanding, something that made her love him even more.

Hawke smiled fondly. “I miss everyone. I know Fenris has to do what he’s got to do in Tevinter, and Isabela is glad to be free with her ship. And I’ll always care for Anders, even if it’s all very complicated.” She let out a long sigh. “There were good times, despite everything, with all of them.”

“That’s Kirkwall in general.” He reached out, brushing his gloved hand against her arm, and she leaned into his touch.

Yes. Good times despite everything. That was Kirkwall all over.

***

Varric turned the key in the lock, opening up the front door to the Hawke estate. Hawke had made some noise about needing to carry the foodstuffs and being unable to get to her key, but Varric wondered if she’d remembered to bring it with them this morning at all. He couldn’t blame her. It was bound to take some getting used to, being back.

They were greeted by the scent of a fire in the hearth. Hawke stiffened, then set the sack of food down on the hallway bench. “Bethany?” she called. “Is that you?” She kept onward to the sitting room, and was abruptly bowled over by a big brown blur that brought her to her knees. “Molossus!” She wrapped her arms around the vast Mabari, weeping gratefully into his fur.

Varric followed, crouching down beside them and patting the old dog on the head. Molossus’ muzzle, once coal-black, was now snowy white, and his eyes were rheumy and gray. The bulk of him had shrunk some with the years, and Varric could now pick out the shadow of his spine beneath the glossy fur, but the nub of his tail wagged as furiously as ever as he slobbered all over Min’s face.

“Good to see the old boy,” said Varric. “I wonder if he’s still any good at Diamondback?”

“Was that you who taught him that?” asked Bethany, coming in from the drawing room. “You know, he’s getting better about his tells in his old age. I’ve been very impressed with him.”

“Bethany!” Hawke crowed, extricating herself from the floor and the still-wagging Mabari. She grinned at her sister and hugged her, closing her eyes and resting her head on Bethany’s shoulder.

Bethany returned the hug until the elder Hawke laughed in protest. “You’ll squish me to death!” The two sisters embraced for a moment before Hawke pulled back, wiping her eyes. “It’s been too long,” she said fiercely.

“Too long by far,” said Bethany. She let out a long sigh. “Did you two get in all right?”

“Yes, yes. We only ran into a few nests of bandits on the way, and we were more than enough for them. But what about you? You went after those darkspawn alone?”

“Not completely alone. Molossus was with me,” said Bethany. “I know he’s getting on in years, but he’s still quite the keen watchdog. There weren’t many. Just enough to be a problem for the colony on the Wounded Coast.”

“Colony?” Varric asked, raising his brows. “What are we talking? More Tal-Vashoth?”

Bethany shook her head. “There’s a small group of mages that escaped from the Circle living out there. They’ve built a small village in some of the more secluded areas, and without the templars to harass them, they seem to be doing quite well for themselves. But they’re mostly healers. Darkspawn were new to them, and I wanted to teach them how to handle themselves, should the beasts make another excursion here.”

“You’re all right, then?” asked Hawke, a tinge of anxiety sneaking into her voice. Varric sidled up beside her, brushing his arm against hers.

“Min, I’m a Warden,” said Bethany, her eyes tightening. “I know what I’m about.” The tension in her expression faded, and she turned to Varric, fixing him with a piercing gaze. “Anyway, we’ve got more exciting things to talk about than blasted Darkspawn. Varric Tethras. Seducing my sister. So you finally told her how you felt, is that it?”

Varric groaned, clapping a hand over his face, feeling his ears blaze red. “Are you kidding me, Sunshine? Everyone knew? This is some kind of nightmare.”

“That embarrassed about being smitten with me, are you?” Hawke asked, laying a long arm across his shoulders and bending down to kiss the top of his head. “Why, a woman might feel slighted by that sort of admission.”

“Yes,” said Bethany, winking, “a real man would never hide his feelings for the love of his life. Perhaps his devotion isn’t quite what he makes it out to be --”

“Of course I’ve loved Hawke for years!” Varric burst out, holding up his hands. “I just didn’t want to overstep my bounds. If you might recall, she had eyes for someone else at the time, and I didn’t want to be that ‘friend’ trying to get in the way --”

Bethany giggled. “I’m only teasing, Varric. I couldn’t be happier for the both of you.” She hugged him. “But I seem to recall the way you’d gaze at her even before we left on the expedition, and as far as I’ve been told, it wasn’t until after that Min set her eye on Anders --”

“Quite right you are, sister,” said Hawke in one of the most serious tones he’d ever heard from her. “Quite right you are.”

“Oh sure,” said Varric. “Everyone pile on the dwarf.”

“No, I think if anyone’s going to be on you, that’s all Min,” said Bethany, deadpan.

Hawke laughed so hard she nearly cried, and Varric couldn’t help but laugh, too.

***

Hawke pushed her plate aside and rested her elbows on the dinner table, leaning forward. “Well, that was a meal and a half,” she said. Quite literally, as Bethany had also brought home some things for dinner, and they’d wound up cooking enough food for a small army. For a moment she thought of taking the leftovers over to the Chantry for food donation; there’d always been a few sisters that hung around in the evenings to receive meals to distribute in Lowtown.

Then she remembered all over again, and a frisson went through her. She swallowed.

“This’ll keep ‘til tomorrow, don’t you think?” she asked, staring down at the cookpot at the end of the table, still full of vast quantities of a beef ragout with tomatoes and prickleweed. It wasn’t the meal she’d picked out at the market. She’d carefully bundled the food she’d gotten and set it aside for later, not wanting to step on Bethany’s toes or dinner plans.

“It ought to. I make it a lot,” said Bethany. “At least now that autumn’s coming in and it’s not so hot anymore. I made the mistake of making it once in the heat of summer and it spoiled dreadfully. Eight Wardens were puking their guts out before we realized they’d gotten into it when we’d meant to throw it out….”

“I thought Wardens had iron constitutions,” cracked Varric.

“That’s what they say, isn’t it?” Bethany asked. Her smile quirked to one side, fading, and Hawke felt a sudden frantic urge to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“So Bethany. I was wondering… have you got any advice on dreams?” she asked hastily.

“It rather depends on what you’re looking for.”

“Well, I can’t say as I know,” said Hawke. “It usually seems as if the dream’s taken me by the arm and is insisting upon marching me ‘round the Fade. It’s… I don’t care for it, sister. How do you manage?”

Varric raised a gloved hand. “Fade-touched dwarf with human-like dreams over here. I might be interested in a little friendly advice myself.”

Bethany looked from one to the other of them. “You don’t recall what Dad used to say? ‘It’s about will.’”

Hawke shivered. They were the words Bethany had shouted to her within the Fade, the words she had used to guide her home to the point that Varric and the others could pull her free. Yet she had never remembered her father speaking them. They must have been words for Bethany alone.

“I don’t think he said it to Carver and me,” she said slowly. “You had your special lessons with him, and Carver and I would go off and do chores. I don’t recall him saying much at all about dreams, really.”

“Special. Right,” said Bethany, the words stretching, quivering in the tense air.

“I only meant --” Hawke let out a long huff of air. “You know what I mean. Carver and I used to get jealous of your time with Dad. Kid stuff. That’s all.”

Bethany chuckled, and the tension deflated. “Oh, Carver. I miss talking about him. It’s been lonely, you know. Only being around people who never knew him.” She closed her eyes, still wearing a faint, wistful smile. “There were so many times I could scarce believe we were related at all, let alone twins.”

“He was born contrary, truly,” said Hawke. With a start she remembered Varric sitting patiently at the end of the table, waiting for them to catch up on their Hawke-only conversation. “Perhaps all brothers are that way.”

“A verifiable fact, I’d say, as the born-contrary younger brother,” said Varric solemnly.

“Oh Varric, I'm sorry. Of course I wasn’t being terribly helpful to you.” Bethany pursed her lips. “Well, think of the Fade as a place where want, and need, and desire, are all very, very real. Your wants, and the wants of those spirits or demons that are trapped there. If you’re not a mage, the demons pick up on all those wants, and try to make a reflection of what’s in your mind. It’s garbled and mixed up and strange, but it’s all you, in the end, with a twist. It can’t hurt you, if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

Varric took a drink of his wine, looking troubled.

“As for mages, like me…” Bethany took a deep breath. “-- and you, Min… Well, the wants -- the will -- you start to realize where you cast it. Where it takes you. You’re awake in a way that you aren’t, without magic. And that always stays on, sister. You can’t unring a bell like this, not once it’s been rung.” She reached out, gripping Hawke’s hand, and her grasp was far tougher than Hawke would have dreamed. “I’m sorry.”

Hawke curled her hand around her sister’s, trying not to tremble. “Nothing to be sorry about,” she said lightly. “I can use this. I can learn.” But she held Bethany’s hand tight, gripping it until her knuckles went pale.

***

Things felt awkward in Hawke’s bed that night. Somehow she was all elbows or knees or ankles, tossing and turning, unable to figure out a way to settle down. Varric lay there patiently, waiting for her to find a comfortable spot, not minding when she couldn’t seem to figure one out. At last she rolled onto her back and tilted her head to stare at him in the dark.

“Don’t you dare leave me, Varric Tethras.”

He reached up, tracing his fingers along her jawline. “So that came out of nowhere.”

She spluttered, rolling away from him. “Ugh. I know. I’m aware.” She hiked some of the covers over her head, then pulled them down again. “No, I know you’ve got to go back to the Inquisition at some point. You’ve given your word, after all, and words are your thing, and it’s the noble thing to do. It’s just… how am I to do this, Varric? Bethany hates me.”

Varric blinked. “Maybe it’s because I never had a sister, but I thought there was a distinct lack of death threats tonight… unless human sisters show hatred differently than dwarven siblings do.”

“You can’t just let me exaggerate in peace, can you? All right, fine, Bethany doesn’t hate me. But things are different between us, Varric. Ever since the thaig, and the Wardens. I don’t know that she’ll ever forgive me for it. I think she’s tried. I’m not sure it’s enough.” She flung her arm up over her face, taking deep breaths.

“Maybe she will, maybe she won’t,” said Varric. “But she’s here with you now, right?”

“Right…”

“So there’s a chance,” he said. “There’s time. If things are messed up, you still might be able to fix them. Why not give it a shot and see where it goes?”

I’m sorry, brother. The thought came unbidden, a knife in the dark. He closed his eyes.

“You’re right, of course,” she said quietly. She curled up against him, resting one hand over his heart, her fingers idly playing with the hair on his chest. “Do you ever wonder about Bartrand? If things might have been different?”

He held her close in the soft dark, brushed her hair with one slow hand. “You could tell I was thinking about him, huh?”

“You’re more of an open book that you know, storyteller,” she murmured.

He swallowed. “Sure I wonder. There’s a lot of regret to go around, about that thaig. Sunshine and Bartrand both paid prices. I still don’t know if --”

If I murdered my brother. Or if I saved him.

But that was a chapter he didn’t want to revisit, a tale he’d hoped he’d wrapped up years ago. He stroked her hair, trying to focus on its softness, the warmth of her against him in the covers. This was better. This was the chapter he wanted to linger in.

“It’s all right, Varric.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being you. It helps. More than you know.”

“Huh. Imagine that.”

Chapter 4: The Message

#dragon age #hawke x varric #varric x hawke #varric tethras #dragon age: inquisition #under a new morning sun #min hawke #bethany hawke

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baejax-the-great · 3 years

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Aches

Fenris x Hawke (G)

1850 words of banter about old injuries between even older friends. Mentions of alcohol, spiders, and aging.

Read on AO3

When Bethany summoned ice from thin air, Varric reflected for the umpteenth time what a fantastic waste locking up all the mages had been for all those years.

“Thank you, Sunshine,” he said while scooping it into a handkerchief. It would soak through eventually, but it was going to get the job done.

Hawke watched him with a raised eyebrow. “Was I the only one who thought the ice was for our drinks?”

“Ice in wine? Yes,” Fenris replied.

“I don’t know, it might have been nice to try it cold. Something new?”

Fenris shook his head.

“I’m an old man now,” Varric explained as he tied a knot to hold the ice in, “I have aches and pains, and in my time in the charming south, ice helped.”

“What aches?” Bethany asked.

“My wrist,” he replied. He rolled his eyes at Hawke’s failure to hide a childish smile. “There’s a cranking motion I have to do for Bianca and—”

Hawke was no longer pretending to listen seriously, giggling to herself, and Varric put his hands back on the table, regretting his choice to act out the motion in the air for more than just the predictable pain that came with it. He set the ice to do its work.

“Tell me more about how you crank Bianca,” Hawke said with a flutter of her eyelashes.

He shook his head. “I know I’m not the only one here suffering. Come on, Hawke, you’re practically a walking bruise at this point. Maybe you’d like to be put on ice for a bit.”

She grinned. “Well there was the old shoulder injury. And the knee injury, of course. Every time it rains it starts creaking. And I really did roll that one ankle too many times. It seems always on the verge of rolling again.” Bethany quietly began summoning more ice as she spoke. ”And, well who could forget my back that one time, except that the answer was all of you forgot my back or nothing would have happened to it in the first place…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Bethany tied up the ice and handed it to her sister, who only used it to gesture in the air as she said, “Honestly, at this point I take a healing potion prior to fighting just so I can make the stabbing motion without wincing. And I’m still not half as fast as I used to be.”

Fenris raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was whisky.”

“You thought I was getting drunk before fights?”

He nodded. “I was worried about you. Now I know you are in too much pain to hold a blade. That’s much better.”

“Not after I take one of these,” Hawke said, wiggling a small vial in front of him. She seemed to remember the ice in her other hand at that point and after some consideration she balanced it on her right elbow, her smile fading into consternation. “And then take three more the minute we’re done, or I’d have to make you carry me home.”

“Give me that—” Bethany said, snatching the vial before Hawke had the chance to protest. She swirled it in the light, popped the cork to delicately sniff it, then sighed. “You really shouldn’t be taking four of these in one day.”

Hawke snatched it back with her tongue stuck out. “It’s better than taking a knife to the gut, but I’ll keep that in mind. Not all of us can shove healing magic into our shoulders after every fight.”

“Maker, don’t remind me. All that twirling has taken its toll.” She sighed. “And Alistair—all that plate mail on his big body—his knees are practically dust at this point. I think magic is all that’s holding them together.”

Hawke laughed and offered her elbow to Bethany, who prodded at it a bit with some magic. Fenris was conspicuously silent through all of this, and Varric just couldn’t help poking.

“What about you, elf?” he asked, “Where’s your worst pain? No, don’t tell me. It’s either the shoulder or the elbow, and my money’s on the elbow.”

Fenris took a slow drink of ale, and Hawke, to her credit, didn’t shout out the answer. “I may not know my age,” Fenris drawled, “But I am now certain I am younger than all of you. My joints are fine.”

Hawke laughed. “Maker, but you were a haggard teenager when we found you,” she snickered.

“Bull shit,” Varric replied. “And here’s how I know it’s bullshit and that it’s your elbow. I haven’t seen you do that over-the-head hack move in two years. Now I know you’re strong enough to lift that enormous sword of yours, but I’m guessing your elbow won’t let you do the follow-through.”

Fenris shrugged. “It was an inefficient maneuver,” he replied simply to Hawke’s giggles.

Bethany, who had prepared yet another handkerchief full of ice, turned to Varric and asked, “Should we play pin the ice pack on the elf? Honestly I’m guessing there are no wrong answers.”

Of course, with her time spent healing, she had an eye for these things. She leaned over and whispered in Varric’s ear.

He grinned. “Alright Mister-Younger-Than-The-Rest-of-Us, let’s have a demonstration of your peak physical condition. We’ll start with something nice and easy. Put your hand all the way up in the air, as far as it will go.”

Fenris rolled his eyes and started to raise his hand.

“The other hand,” Varric and Bethany protested at the same time.

Fenris considered the hand currently holding his cup of wine. “No.”

Hawke accepted the ice pack from Bethany and placed it on his shoulder for him. “I really thought I’d be much older when all my conversations devolved into what hurt where and how bad,” she said, Seems like a conversation for people with white hair.”

Fenris gave her a very pointed look.

“I mean like Varric,” she sighed. “He’s not nearly gray enough for this conversation.”

“Thanks, Hawke.”

“Any time. Anyway I suppose we’ll really be lost when we start arguing over whose pain is the worst.”

“It’s you,” Bethany said simultaneously with Fenris’s “Yours is.”

Varric, who might have enjoyed a great sympathy for his poor wrist that started the entire conversation, had to agree. “We all saw—”

“Don’t bring up the Arishok,” Hawke interrupted flatly, “I’m so tired of talking about the blasted Arishok—”

“That golem-looking thing in the Deep Roads that crushed your foot,” he finished.

“I was going to say that time a Maker’s Fist blasted her right off a cliff on the Wounded Coast,” Bethany said, “I think she hit every shrub on the way down.”

“I was thinking of the Arishok,” Fenris said.

Hawke elbowed him.

“We all had our fair share,” she said, “What about that time Merrill got that spider bite and we had to carry her home?”

“That was nothing,” Varric said, “She was fine by the time we got back, but I think she was enjoying the ride. Void, she probably weighs less than Bianca, so it wasn’t some big imposition or anything. Whoever had to carry her staff got the worse end of that deal.”

“What about when Isabela got that nasty burn? I can still remember the smell,” Bethany said, scrunching up her nose.

“But you healed that in about a minute,” Hawke said, “She hardly suffered at all.”

The rest of the evening was spent arguing over not over which injury was the most grievous, but which injury was the stupidest in their history. Isabela’s hand blowing up twice its usual size because of what turned out to be a very infected splinter was right up there with the time a crab snapped Fenris’s bare toes and refused to let go until Varric bolted it. Varric personally felt that while Isabela’s injury was more serious, Fenris deserved the crown because he could have just done his lyrium thing at any moment to get away, but instead hopped around like an idiot for a solid minute before Hawke got him to hold still.

Regardless, the ice eventually melted, leaving them all a little soggy, a little nostalgic, and definitely ready for bed.

In their bedroom, after their slow, verbose goodbyes to friends and family that involved Hawke hugging everyone at least three times, including Fenris who was going nowhere, Fenris asked Hawke, “So what happens now?”

She frowned. “Well I was going to peel off this shirt and toss it in the hamper, and then normally I would take two more of these so I could go to bed, but Bethy just told me to limit myself to four.”

Fenris stared at the potion in her hand. “You’ve already had—that is not what she said—”

“Maybe a bath?” Hawke continued as if he had said nothing at all, “With those fizzy salts. That should help, right? Everyone always says those help. Have a bunch stored in a drawer somewhere.”

“No, I meant…” They had slowed down. Fenris had been mostly joking about the whisky, but he hadn’t really registered the extent to which Hawke was in pain. They were both in pain. “Are we…?” He didn’t even know how to phrase the question. What were they if not mercenaries, champions, and warriors? “Are we done?”

“With fighting?” She tossed her shirt away with a small grunt. “Maker, yes. That’s done. We’re old, it’s over, you couldn’t pay me to pick up my blades again, which no one does anymore anyway. May they rust wherever I dropped them last time we came home.”

He nodded, though he couldn’t quite tell if Hawke was serious or not. “Just like that?” he asked.

Hesitating a little, her flippant attitude smoothed into sincerity as she walked over to him and rested her arms over his shoulders. “Do you remember that time you got bashed over the head?”

“Not really, no,” he replied very honestly.

“Right. Of course. I do, though, and after tonight’s conversation, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The slower I get, the stiffer I get, the greater the chance it happens again. Only this time I might not finish off our assailants on my own, or get you to the healer in time, or be able to carry you at all if I have to.”

Fenris rolled his bad shoulder. That thought had crossed his mind once or twice, that should extraordinary circumstances occur as they often did around Hawke, there was less certainty of them prevailing. Still, he didn’t know what a future of quiet peace looked like.

Perhaps it looked like Hawke, slowly undressing as she spoke.

“So I’m done,” she continued, “Didn’t realize it until tonight, but I am serious. Someone else can clean up Darktown or mend the Wounded Coast. I’ll be in the bath, with my salts.” She tossed the rest of her clothes and sauntered toward the bath, pausing to look back at him. “Are you coming?”

Questions of the future aside, what could Fenris do but follow? She had certainly led him to worse places before. “Always.”

#hawke #lea hawke #fenris #fenhawke #fenris x hawke #bethany #bethany hawke #varric #varric tethras #my writing #alcohol mention #feels good to write a dumb one shot again

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mrs-theirin · 5 months

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Back in 2021, a fic was released titled the road, the hidden truth, & you. Gaining quick popularity, it garnered almost 3,000 hits and 144 kudos on ao3, even appearing on a ScreenRant article. Now, watch as your favorite Hawke/Varric modern AU fic gets a whole new twist, with updated worldbuilding, deeper character analysis, and a few extra chapters to fill in the blanks of the story that came before. the road, the hidden truth, & you (revisited) - coming to an ao3 near you January 22nd, 2024

#is this anything. i tried to be cheesy #anyway surprise! trthtay rewrite!#i hope you all enjoy #after i finished it i felt this gigantic weight lift off of my shoulders #dragon age #hawke x varric #da #da2 #hawke #varric #varric tethras #bethany hawke #carver hawke #fanfiction #fanfic #fic

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notabloodmage · 3 years

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Anders Clinic: early Act 1

hello! i am handers trash! here is the first time my hawke helped Anders around the clinic! thank u!

The clinic was crowded today. There was another fever burning its way through Darktown. Anders was stretched thin as it is, with very few volunteers in recent days to help him keep the clinic running and safely hidden. As it turned out-- operating for free meant that help was hard to find. His mana was low, even with the extra reserves that Justice granted him. The clinic was overrun with patients-- his little corner of Darktown a filled with a cacophony of retching and the groans of the ill. He shuffled tiredly, but with purpose, from patient to patient. He was grateful that Justice wouldn’t let him rest until the job was done. It wasn’t good for Anders, sure, but it helped save the lives of all these people, so it had to be worth it, right?

“Uh, Anders?” A familiar voice broke through the crowd. Hawke was… unexpected. The little rogue had weaved her way through the crowd somehow to make it to his side. He didn’t even look up from his work to greet here, focusing on blue fade-energy pulsing at his fingertips.

“Sorry, Hawke, but I really don’t think I can be of any help to you today,” Anders said balefully. He was knelt over an old woman, a Ferelden refugee not unlike the rogue before him.

“Er, actually, I was wondering if I could help you…”

That made him look up, and the sight was so beautiful it made his head spin (or perhaps it was the fact that he was going on 50+ hours without sleep).

Hawke was looking down with her signature crooked grin, brow cocked with concern at his appearance. She wasn’t wearing her armour like usual, he’d never seen her without it before, all that tan freckled skin in the open. She was wearing a casual peasant shirt with a hastily lased collar and simple trousers torn at the knees. He snapped his eyes onto her warm brown gaze to keep them from wandering. Her eyes always had a twinkle in them, somehow, like she knew something you didn’t.

She just had a way with people, Anders supposed, even the woman he was treating seemed to relax at her mere presence.

And more than that, he realised, she may as well have been handing him a pot of gold. She was holding out a basket of fresh picked herbs. Elfroot, Embrium, Blood Lotus-- everything he could possibly need to treat this flu. She beamed when he looked up at her incredulously.

“Bethany is here too, somewhere-- healing isn’t her speciality but Father did teach her the basics. And I may not be a mage, but I do know my way around a cauldron.” She winked down at him, turning toward the back of the shop. “You do have a cauldron, right? Or at least a pot I can cook with?”

“I… What?” Anders gaped--half-convinced the exhaustion had finally gotten to him and he was hallucinating. Hawke giggled.

“A cauldron, Anders, so I can make some healing potions for these people. Father used to make this awful potion for us whenever we were sick, it tastes like the void itself but it always works! I’m not as good as he was but I do know the recipe!” She looked back at him quizzically.

“There’s a cauldron on the fire near the back, miss.” One of his other patients, a young boy who had been in the clinic before spoke up for him.

Anders still couldn’t believe this was happening. This couldn’t be some kind of stress-induced hallucination, could it? Hawke wasn’t really just sweeping in to solve his problems again was she? First with Karl and now this...

“That’s… I…”

Before Anders could fully process the situation he was whisked back into his work.

The sunset bled the day into night, the work still hard but going significantly more smoothly now. He’d bumped shoulders with Bethany a few times throughout the day, who’d always given him an encouraging smile before returning to her work, she may not have been as adept as he was at healing but she did better than fine. Her proficiency with the elements kept the fire burning and kept them supplied with clean water so Anders could focus solely on his healing abilities. The atmosphere of the clinic had changed, it was no longer so frantic, and although he felt as though he was about to collapse with exhaustion, Anders was cautiously optimistic. With all the help they’d been able to give it looked like most of the refugees would actually survive this.

Plus, Hawke wasn’t kidding. She did know her way around a cauldron. Between patients Anders caught glimpses at her slicing up herbs at an alarming speed, Anders hadn’t considered that he proficiency with daggers would translate to something as mundane as chopping up potion ingredients. She’d brought more than enough, too. With this potion a little goes a long way, she’d assured him, and she proved herself right. Sip after agonising sip of the sludge-like fluid had patients perking up already. She’d even been able to slip in a lyrium potion or two to keep Bethany and Anders running late into the evening.

She hummed a cheery little tune to herself as she stirred away, serving patients with a smile and a joke. She made it look so easy, but she had to tired by now...

The clinic finally began to slow around midnight, most of the patients had cleared out and those that remained were asleep. Hawke had sent Bethany home before sundown-- Leandra got nervous when Bethany was out late, apparently-- so it was just the two of them that remained, in the back of the clinic. Anders was warming himself by the fireplace, hands gripping his mug tightly to keep them from trembling with exhaustion, as he sipped the tea Hawke had pushed into his hands. It smelled like like home somehow-- Ferelden.

Mint, fennel and elfroot, sweetened with honey.

Hawke bit back a yawn, she was sat on a stool, scrubbing out his old cauldron-- he’d gotten it second-hand after he’d set up shop down here.

Her curly brown hair was tied back with a white rag, and at some point she had lost her overshirt, leaving her in tight camisole. Anders tried desperately to ignore how it gave him the perfect view of the way her chest heaved as she worked. Her toned, tanned arms were in full view, every inch of her skin patterned intricately with freckles. Sweat dripped down her neck into the valley between her breasts and Anders cleared his throat in an attempt to clear his thoughts.

“Thank you for today, really. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.” He fixed his gaze on hers once more. She was smiling at him with something that looked like admiration her amber eyes, and he didn’t know if that terrified him or turned him on.

Maybe both.

“I can’t believe you do this every day… I don’t even think I can stand back up…” Hawke leaned back, setting the cauldron aside so she could stretch, letting out a sweet sound of satisfaction at the relief on her sore muscles.

Anders nearly cursed aloud when Justice forced him to avert his gaze.

“It’s not always this bad…” He stammered out, as Hawke stood focusing his eyes on the hearth, where the fire had burned down to coals. She was looking at him again. He could see it from the corner of his eye, she was studying him intently, it seemed.

The silence hung over them--warm, wanting, and not quite comfortable.

Anders wanted to thank her again, but he couldn’t find the words. He still couldn’t believe she’d come at all. Completely unprompted, unasked. He’d asked her a few hours in what she was doing there and all she’d said was that Varric told her was busy at the clinic and she wanted to help. She didn’t say how she got the herbs or found the time, in her busy schedule though, and Anders thought that maybe he should ask if he could pay for those... not that he could afford them, he thought bitterly.

The silence was broken by Hawke bursting into a fit of giggles.

He looked at her, brow creasing. She was… Odd. Always smiling, always laughing at something or other. She’d tripped over her feet on the way up the Chantry steps that first night they’d met and he could’ve sworn her laugh echoed through all of Hightown, far too loud for someone as small in stature as she. In that moment she’d put him at ease, and even though his meeting with Karl went as terribly as it did she stuck by his side, even inviting him out on jobs with her in the days after, knowing full well that he could use the money, and time out of Darktown.

Her eyes glimmered with mirth as she turned to him.

“I just realised I never told you my name.”

Huh.

So she hadn’t.

It was strange, given how much they’d been through together in the, what, few weeks? Since they’d met? Anders found himself laughing alongside her.

Maybe they were delirious-- maybe the fever had finally caught up to them-- but Maker did the two of them laugh. A gross, hard day full of grief and sickness that had left them both worn and covered in vomit and the pair laughed themselves to tears.

Justice was confused. Anders was laughing. Why was Anders laughing?

Anders didn’t quite know the answer himself, but he figured it didn’t matter as Hawke extended a hand to him.

“I’m Minerva Marian Hawke, and you are?”

He took her hand in his. His handshake was a little too firm in an attempt to disguise how his hands were trembling.

“Anders. Just Anders.”

“Just Anders, hm? Coooool~” She grinned, voice regaining its familiar teasing quality. He couldn’t help but return her grin. “Well, Just Anders, I’ll come by tomorrow, okay? I think it’s time to get some rest. Both of us, okay?” Her eyes flickered over him, an expression of genuine concern on her face. Anders didn’t know what he’d done to earn such kindness from her, but he couldn’t deny the way it made his heart pound in his chest.

She smiled her farewell and turned to leave.

“Goodnight, Minerva.” Her name tasted sweet on his lips. “And thank you.”

#we r VIBING #my chronic pain is acting up like mad so i can't work but at least i can write fics and play dragon age ajshfdvbjkadsvfhasdfs #my writing #ok to rb #handers #f!handers #female hawke #dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #da #anders #anders dragon age #anders x hawke #act 1 #bethany hawke #varric tethras #it's abt the mutual pining babey!!!#slow BURN!!!!

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jellydishes · 4 years

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befny/varric, comfort food

Bethany looked at her plate, and Varric looked at his. “It looks really good!” Bethany said into the silence, but it sounded too uncertain to be convincing. “...what is it?”

“Head cheese,” he said absently, aiming a thoughtful frown down at what Bethany had in turn made for him. “And whatever this is, it needs to be preserved for posterity. Where’s my notebook?”

“Under your sash, where you left it. And it’s scrapple,” she said, but couldn’t help the mischevious laugh in her voice when she added, “it’s good for you.”

“Andraste’s tits, Sunshine, don’t make me associate you with my mother...”

“But associating me with Andraste’s tits is fine?”

“It’s like a race,” he said down at his plate as he started to fork up some scrapple, “whether you’ll kill me first, or your scrapple. What’s in it?”

“A bit of this and that. How about your cheese?”

“It isn’t cheese.”

“You-“ Bethany started to say, then stopped herself with a snort of laughter. “I suppose I deserved that.”

“I suppose you did,” he said with an exaggeratedly offended sniff. “Now eat your pickled nug head and be- ah, shit, you’ve got me doing it now.”

“Ah-hah!”

#bethany hawke #varric tethras x bethany hawke #bethany hawke x varric tethras #Bethany Hawke #varric tethras #Dragon Age #sometimes i write things

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sidhelives · 3 years

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Thank you @kittynomsdeplume and @noire-pandora for the tag!

I've got two WIPs going this week, working them in tandem as the mood strikes me. I'm also playing through ME:LE (and finally picked up my 🦎) so they might take a little longer than usual to complete.

Sorrynotsorry

Anyway

First up we have a little drabble I've been wanting to get on paper for a while wherein Regan Hawke turns up to Skyhold at Varric's request with her entire family in tow. This is absolutely the most characters I've ever dealt with in a single scene and it's only going to get worse 😅

On cue, Varric appeared in the archway ahead, and staggered to a halt when he saw them.

"Uncle Varric!" Malcolm shouted, dropping his parents' hands to run to the man who caught him in an enormous hug.

Varric laughed jovially, swinging the small boy into the air before planting his feet back on the ground. "How you doing, Little Champ? You're bigger than I remember."

Malcolm nodded enthusiastically, his wide smile missing several teeth. "Mamae says I had a growth spurt!"

"Hello Varric," Regan greeted him warmly, the adults catching up with the precocious steps of the child.

"Hawke," he laughed. "You didn't tell me you were bringing the kids."

"Where were they supposed to go?" she asked with a wry smile, gently rubbing Leto's back as the new voices started to rouse him.

"I figured Bethany—" he stopped as the younger Hawke sister poked her head around Fenris's shoulder.

"Hullo Varric. Nice to see you, I do hope we won't be too much trouble."

Isabela cackled. "That's a laugh. Have you met us?"

Varric gave Regan a stern look. "Isabela too?"

"It's Isabela Hawke now," Isabela waggled her left hand at the dwarf, showing off the ring on her finger as she kissed Bethany on the cheek.

Varric raised an eyebrow at the revelation. "Didn't think anyone would ever tie you down, Rivani."

"Actually, I'm usually the one doing the tying," Isabela responded with a smirk. Bethany's cheeks darkened in a flush and she elbowed her wife.

"I suppose that means Carver is here too then?" Varric guessed.

"I'm here," the man confirmed with an apathetic wave.

It's cute and I love them.

Second I have the third chapter of my Hawke/Solas fic In Dreams Awake. It's a good one.

There were, of course, natural Rifts which, even before the Breach broke the sky, could open of their own accord in places tainted by death. They were rare however, and would prove difficult to traverse, even if she were lucky enough to locate one.

Based on the evidence provided by her life up to that point, Hawke doubted she had that kind of luck.

It was far more likely that she would remain in the Fade eternally. No hunger or thirst or any way to mark the passing of time. Even the thought of dying was preferable, she decided, than the non-existence she found herself in. If the Chantry was right, death would reunite her with her father and mother, her brother and sister, perhaps even Anders.

Hawke's heart tightened as she thought of the mage.

She did not allow herself to think of him often, every memory laced with razors of regret. Hawke had failed him. Failed to save him from himself, from the world, and in the end, from her. She still felt his blood pouring over her hand, scalding hot, felt his arms around her loosen as the life left his body.

Wasn't it a sort of justice for her to find herself incarcerated by her own hubris? To never know true peace or rest. Locked away with her guilt until the world came to an end.

Hawke stopped walking. Taking a deep breath she shook herself roughly out of her malaise.

Self-pity, as appealing as it was, served no purpose. What was done was done, and she could do nothing to change it.

Tagging: @hezjena2023 @piecesofsolaswriting @beaubartley @the-cryptographer

#fanfiction #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #hawke #solas #fenris #bethany hawke #carver hawke #varric tethras #isabela #the fade #skyhold #hawke x fenris babies #wip wednesday #wip

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