Imprints in Stone [AU]

[Helene Dakesh]

Instead of answering, they flip a page: a rendering of Varric's face, lying still, eyes closed, crumpled on one arm, exactly how he looked when he fell. They stroke a cheek, beginning to rock back and forth a little. 

[Tethras Clan]

"Oh. Dad was the mabari," Merrill says softly. "Or... he... prevented-" Her breath catches. "Carver. Or Beth. He died instead of- instead of-"

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene nods, still rocking. They reach up and tap their head, then tap the picture of Varric again. Finally, they reach up and gently run their fingers along their amulet: Alydra's holy symbol. 

[Tethras Clan]

"...Dad... was... Alydran? I know..." Merrill shakes her head in time with Helene's shake. "Not that. Umm. He's with- no, not that either. He's..." Her brow furrow. "He... wait, picture. Why was he there? You- you had a vision and he- and he saved us. You both saved us. Gods, that-" Unable to not, she swoops in to hug Helene. 

[Helene Dakesh]

Helene, still damp, trembles in Merrill's arms. Somehow, despite their damp body being on the front of Merrill, her back and shoulder end up soaked as well. 


After the tears comes drying, changing, and joining the cuddle pile. In the morning, despite some misgivings, Merrill does tell the others about her and Helene's midnight adventures; after that, Helene isn't left unwatched, just in case. 

Solicitors show up on the fourth day, handing over control of Varric's assets to Beth and Carver -- all save for a small trust dedicated to locating, acquiring, and resurrecting his body. On the sixth day, they gather, praying, hoping, begging.

[GamesMaster]

Varric finds himself in his office, sipping fine whiskey -- and listening to his kids and the dogs play just outside. He can't see them; the blinds are drawn. But he knows they're safe, knows they're happy, even if they're not with him right now.

The figure across from him leans forward, suddenly, just as he's done bragging about how great his kids are. "YOU SEEM TO HAVE COVERED YOUR BASES WELL, VARRIC TETHRAS."

[Varric]

"'course," he says automatically. "Plans made with careful thought, research and prep time are, with only the rarest of exceptions mostly due to new information gained in the heat of the moment, far superior to improvisation." Something about this niggles at the edges of his awareness but... A flurry of happy barks, then a loud squeal of the same emotion, pushes back the thought and brings a smile to his face.

[GamesMaster]

"DO YOU STILL FEEL THE WAY YOU DID WHEN YOU MADE THOSE PLANS?" The voice asks, somehow without judgement or innuendo -- it's an honest question, a matter of curiosity more than a pointed jab. "OR DO YOU DESIRE REST?"

[Varric]

"Tch. Rest? I'm a father, rest is for when..." Varric hesitates a moment, that thought niggling again, harder. "When I'm old, surrounded by grandbabies. And great-grandbabies, like as not, maybe even great-great, given how fast I suspect Sunshine is going to move on poor Carver." What's wrong with all of this? Something is... off. Incomplete or... 

[GamesMaster]

"THEY ARE SAFE, AND HEALTHY," comments the guest offhandedly. "THEY ARE FINE YOUNG PEOPLE. BUT THEY HAVE MADE A REQUEST OF ME. SHALL I ANSWER THEIR CALLS? OR IS IT TIME FOR THEM TO LEAVE THE NEST?"

[Varric]

"You don't have a drink," Varric suddenly says, snapping his fingers. "That's what is it that's wrong. What's your pick? Whisky? Or... you seem like Helene, more of a wine..." He frowns slightly. "...person?"

[GamesMaster]

The figure seems amused -- which is odd, because he can't make out their face, but he knows it anyway. "WHISKEY, THEN. LET US HAVE ONE OF THESE FAMOUS WHISKEY TALKS."

[Varric]

For some reason, Varric feels compelled to pour the figure a triple finger of his best. Which... Why do I have that bottle just out in my office? That should be locked in the office safe... Weird. "Sorry, you were asking about... something about me changing my mind? I'll warn you now, it's a pretty rare occurrence."

[GamesMaster]

"I WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOU BELIEVE IS RIGHT," the figure says gently. "IS THERE MORE TO BE DONE? OR ARE YOUR YOUNG ONES READY TO FACE THE WORLD ALONE?"

[Varric]

"...ready? Maybe. I have faith that they'd manage without me," Varric admits. "But... Helene. There's maybe ten people in all of Nyra that could undo that ritual. Could fix what went wrong. Less than five that could do it and keep them... intact long enough for the work to be done. And I'm one of the five. Helene's another. So... yeah. I have to go back. Besides, my kids would manage, but... not ready to let them walk..."

"Well, shit."

Varric sets his whisky down. Picks it up. Drains it. Sets it down and notes that it's full again. "I died. You're..." For some reason, the common word just doesn't seem... right to speak aloud in his current company. "The Quiet Judge."