No one could say Varric was stupid. Eternal intricacies and twisted lies, that's what Tetras was to those around him. Hiding behind the mask of an eternal merrymaker and womaniser, rarely did anyone notice how his brown eyes scrutinised his surroundings and picked out all the weaknesses of one person or another.

He deservedly earned the title of Trade Prince in the guild, manoeuvring so deftly between problems and creating them here and there that he could get gold practically out of thin air, turning any deal in his favour.

That's how he'd spotted Hawke, deciding to use her skills for his upcoming expedition to the deep paths.If anyone said it was also to spite Bartrand, Varric would deny it.

He fell in love. In a way he never thought he could after the whole Bianca thing. Varric was willing to do anything to protect Hawke from horrors and tragedies, wanting to keep her fun-loving and curious disposition forever, while denying his feelings in every way possible.

So when she was wounded by Arishok in battle and her blood was rapidly spreading across the floor of the Viceroy's house, he was terrified, denying her plea for comfort and ignoring the words of love flying from her lips. In his attempts to keep her safe from the Seekers, he had been caught himself, thus getting into trouble with the Inquisition.

Varric didn't want to ask for Hawke's help as it was, knowing how much she had lost. He knew she would blame herself for the Corypheus revival and didn't want to implicate her, but desperation compelled him to write her a letter. And that's where he was. Alone. Lost his love in the Veil, doomed to forever bury himself for rejecting her fragile heart years ago, and for not being able to refuse to let Cassandra drag Hawke into this battle.

That's why, years later, when long years later, when grey already touched his hair and a new war was on his doorstep, he froze when he heard the news of a young woman who had fallen from a rift in the veil. It could only be one person stubborn enough to survive.