First, I want to apologize for being late with posting this episode of my fan fiction. I have really no excuse aside from the 4th of July holiday and school work.
I also want to apologize for the picture I’m using. Yes, it’s true – this is Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr (James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender) playing chess. I wanted a picture of an elf by a fireplace talking to a dwarf sitting at a nearby table but darn if I couldn’t find that.
The good news is that unlike my last chapter, this one is more mine than the game’s. In fact, re-writing this gave me more ideas for the rest of my story.
I hope you enjoy it!
Questions and Questions
“You know, despite your reputation, she had a pretty hard time finding you, Uncle.” The elf had gotten up while listening to Varric’s tale and moved over to the fireplace. He was staring into the flames as he spoke.
“It took me years to perfect: knowing when to hide, how to hide and who to help hide you. Ironically, your mother taught me something about that.”
“She always told me that the best place to hide is right out in the open.” Small Fry grabbed the iron poker and started moving the logs around, then turned and looked over at Varric.
“Where everyone least expects you. Tell me, in your travels, have you ever come across anyone who claimed they knew her?” The dwarf leaned an elbow on the table and cradled his chin in his hand.
“You mean the elves and the merchants?”
“The very ones. Ever ask them if they remember her?”
The elf started thinking back, way back: to the times he was both with his mother and a time shortly after. “I remember a few merchants tell me I had Fenris’ features … to an extent. But … mother ….” He furrowed his brow as he tried his memory, but he couldn’t find a single description of her. In fact, he couldn’t even picture her face, only her eyes. Not to say that he couldn’t see her at all, but when the memory of her face came to him, she was wearing her eye guard.
Varric chuckled. “Don’t think too hard there. It takes me some time to get her face right, at least without that guard of hers, and I spent a great deal of time with her. She had that face that blended in, and a form to match.” He grinned broadly as a memory came to him. “There was one time she and Blondie almost got caught by the Chantry.”
“Ah! Anders was always getting her into trouble.” He nodded and grinned as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the edge of the fireplace. “There were times I wondered why Father hadn’t killed him.”
“Well, she claimed she didn’t need his help for that. And Hawke was no innocent with that either. As for the Elf, well, your mother and Hawke tended to come between those two quite often.”
Small Fry nodded again. “Hawke was as protective of Anders as Father was of Mother. He also watched out for her too. So how were they ‘almost busted’?”
Varric grinned. “Blondie and your mother were in the Docks and were spotted. He tried to lose them amongst the crowd, but they were practically cornered with no visible escape. Your mother,” Varric started laughing at the memory and Small Fry had to wait a bit before he was calm enough to continue, although the chuckling didn’t stop.
“Your mother and Blondie were at the edge of the pier. She took off her cloak, tied it to her waist like a skirt and shoved him into the water!” He started laughing again but was able to continue. “She then sat by the edge, rubbed her eyes hard to make them look like she had been crying and started sobbing.
“When the Templars came around the corner, all they saw was a sailor’s widow crying. Oh they were sure your mother and Blondie had gone in that direction; they approached her and looked over the side. One even dared ask her if she had seen anything, but she wailed loudly and pointed out to sea.”
Small Fry laughed. “Mother told you that?”
“No, Blondie did. He caught a cold that day and had to come to me for help with an ingredient he needed for an elixir; swore he’d never take her to or be alone with her at the Docks ever again.”
Small Fry laughed. “And Father?”
“When he told the story, I never saw a bigger smile on him, well, up to that time. It was the first time he hugged her in public. Rumor had it he never let Anders forget what happened.”
“Speaking of telling, you contemplated telling Cassandra.” Small Fry interrupted.
Varric laughed. “No.”
Small Fry raised an eyebrow. “But … it almost seemed as though you … what stopped you?”
“I happen to have a reputation to consider, and a promise is no small thing for me. I have only ever made three promises in my life, and I have kept all of them. You are one of them.”
Varric didn’t say a word as he sat looking at the man before him.
“So you aren’t the least bit worried that you’ll be breaking your promise?” The elf walked back to the table and sat down.
“You didn’t read that entire note I gave you, did you?” Varric chuckled, then caught Small Fry’s attention when the elf attempted to find the note and re-read it. “I’ll spare you the effort: I promised a very beautiful and unusual lady that I would tell no one outside of our group about you. Telling you about yourself would not be breaking that promise. Not by a long shot.”
“So, the other two you’ll take to your grave?”
“More or less. It will depend on what happens and how dire the circumstances are. And before you ask if I would tell under duress, I’ll assure you that the Seeker did threaten my life, but I still stayed quiet.”
“All right. So, then, what happened?”
“I started my story…”