Other Fan Fiction ❯ Stupid In Love ❯ Mead for when revenge isn't so sweet ( Chapter 2 )

I do not own Dragon Age or its characters.

I do not make any money off the stories I've written for it.

Unless you count the fact that I can't sleep or work when a story takes hold, so writing it allows me to get back to being productive. But I don't think that Bioware can sue me for that.

Stupid In Love

Chapter 2

(Takes place shortly after the confrontation with Hadriana.)

“What do you want?” Fenris voice barked out at the dwarf at his door.

Proffering a bottle which appeared to be finely aged wine, Varric responded, “I know it's been a tough day, elf, but there's an old saying - don't bite the hand that feeds you. I bring mead.”

With a look of chagrin, the elf opened the door to allow his diminutive friend entry. “I… apologize. Please come in.”

They worked their way up to the study and Fenris opened the wine, poured them each a glass. They sat in silence, drinking the honey wine and staring into the fire.

“At first I was going to bring something drier, but after today, I thought something sweet was more appropriate.” He contemplated the amber beverage in his glass and explained, “Just in case the revenge wasn't as sweet as you thought it would be, you could at least have some sweet wine.”

Chuckling, Fenris replied, “I appreciate the thought.”

They sipped in silence for a few more moments before Varric spoke again. “May I ask you a question?”

“If I said no, would that stop you?” he replied, with a smirk that showed this was intended as friendly banter.

Snorting, Varric continued, “Is it because I'm a dwarf?”

With a puzzled expression, the elf replied, “What?”

“You let me into your mansion. You sit here drinking with me. I believe you even consider me a friend. I just want to know if it's because I'm a dwarf. Because you know that I can't have magic.”

“I…” He dropped off, suddenly self-conscious and contemplative. “I had not considered that before.” He sipped his wine. “I suppose there is a level of comfort knowing that there is no way you could use magic against me. But I prefer to think that it's your witty banter that puts me at ease.”

Varric nodded, “Okay. Witty banter. Good.” He glanced sideways at his compatriot and said, “Then… the reason you snapped at Hawke when she tried to talk to you after THAT was because…”

“That was completely different,” Fenris stated, glancing away.

“Why? I'm your friend. She's your friend. We both just want you to know we're here for you. How is it different?”

There was no reply. The elf simply scowled into his wine.

“Do me a favor, huh? Go talk to her. She's really worried about you.” He gestured with his glass. “You may not know it, but she tends to worry herself sick about those she cares about. Doesn't usually give a crap about her own needs, but she'd work herself into a grave trying to help a friend.”

“I know,” he whispered, looking ashamed. “That's the problem.”

“Huh?” Varric replied, confused.

“I promise. I'll…” he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I'll go see her.”