Archive of Our Own

Varya also has a playlist!

Warnings: some emotional turmoil, but nothing too heavy.

Word count: 4,908

Songs that helped me write this:

'Shrike' by Hozier

'On the News' by Keaton Henson

Rolls of green hills dotted with white flowers. Colossal stone statues covered in vines and moss, telling stories of people that had been lost to time. Rivers that flowed as clear as glass, all settled peacefully underneath a canopy of trees.

No one could say that The Emerald Graves did not live up to its name.

Night had fallen now, bathing the endless greenery in the silver hue of moonlight, but the air was alive with the chirping of insects and the rush of water tumbling down from Silver Falls.

Despite the work they had ahead of them, Varya was overcome with a sense of tranquillity. The Inquisition had set up camp not far from the waterside, though half of the company was asleep now. Varya tore her gaze away from the from the bubbles catching on the rocks in the river and glanced to her left.

Only fifteen minutes ago they had been roaring with laughter; now, they sat slumped against each other, glued to each other’s sides. Sera’s mouth hung open, loud snores tumbling out every now and again. Dorian was somehow still managing to retain some of his poise, though even he was slowly sinking his head towards Sera’s bony shoulder.

Varya smiled at them. Despite Sera’s dismissive comments about being surrounded by “pissin’ elfy stuff”, and Dorian’s protests about having to do, well, anything outdoors, it warmed her heart to see them so comfortable with each other.

She peered through the dancing flames of the campfire to Cassandra, body hunched and head still buried in her copy of Swords and Shields.

Everyone was at peace here. Varya turned her head away again, taking a long, slow breath of the cool night air as her eyes landed on the waterfall.

Cassandra was reaching a particularly enthralling raunchy chapter, but her attention was drawn away from page’s elegantly crafted words. She looked upwards. Varya was sat opposite her, cross-legged with a wistful smile on her face. She had loosened her hair from its high ponytail and it now flowed freely across her shoulders, redder than the fire roaring between them. Her heavy-lidded eyes were fixed on the magnificent waterfall in the distance, as they had been for most of the evening.

Cassandra pursed her lips in thought. She and Varya had shared many heartfelt conversations during their time travelling, and they had come to see each other as close friends. A stark contrast, Cassandra thought, to their tense beginnings in the rubble of the Temple of Andraste.

The Maker works in strange ways, she thought to herself.

But the look on the face of her dear friend was not one she had observed before. She had read enough romance novels to recognise it; she had no doubt from their frequent gossiping that her relationship with Commander Cullen was blossoming, but this was a look of nostalgia, of contemplation, a glimpse into a life she had left behind.

Cassandra was determined to get to the bottom of it. With a loud snap she shut her book and set it to one side. Varya sprung to attention, head whipping round. Red strands tickled her vallaslin, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring at that waterfall all evening. What troubles you, friend?”

Varya shook her head and looked at the ground, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her thighs. “I’m not troubled.”

Cassandra heaved an unconvinced sigh and stood up, moving to sit next to her. Neither of them tore their gaze away from the other as she sat down again, an inquisitive smile playing on her lips.

“Perhaps not, but I can tell there is something on your mind. Or someone.”

Varya blinked at Cassandra. Fenedhis, was she that easy to read? Blush crept its way into her cheeks and she knotted her hands together. “I’m starting to think that Seeker of Truth may have a double meaning.”

Cassandra’s grin widened and she turned to face Varya fully. “Or, I just know you well enough to know when someone other than the Commander is on your mind.”

A bolt of lightning shot through Varya’s body, and she sat up a little straighter, swallowing. Cassandra placed a hand on her shoulder.

“It’s all right, my friend. We all have at least one person who never fully leaves our hearts,” she began, her smile softening with reassurance. “Do you wish to talk about it?”

Varya stared at Cassandra, still dumbfounded at her perceptiveness. The blush creeping into her cheeks was intensifying, only made worse by the heat from the fire.

Cassandra leant in a little closer, whispering for the sake of their sleeping friends next to them. “I’ll share mine if you share yours.”

Releasing a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding, Varya sighed, relaxing again. She stared into the flames of the campfire, gathering her thoughts. So much had happened over the last few months and he had barely crossed her mind in a long time, but the second she had looked up at Silver Falls, heard the roaring water in her ears, felt its mist on her skin, a thousand old memories came flooding back to her.

Several seconds had passed, and Cassandra waited patiently. Varya looked up again.

“His name was Luthais.” She savoured his name, sweet like honey.

Cassandra tilted her head, expression unchanged. “An elf, I assume?”

Varya nodded. That wistful smile returned once more as the memories resurfaced.

“From Clan Tillahnnen,” she explained. “Our clans were both friendly with humans, we would often travel and trade together for weeks at a time growing up.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened with interest. “You were childhood friends?!”

Varya bit her lip and nodded, hunching her shoulders.

“That is so romantic,” Cassandra sighed. This formidable warrior of a woman, rendered helpless by a tale of two ill-fated lovers. Varya couldn’t help but smile.

 “Please, if you are willing to share. Tell me everything about him.”

*

Arlathvhen, 9:30 Dragon (Eleven years ago)

Varya had only ever attended one Arlathvhen before, when she was merely a child. Back then, she revelled in the excitement of it all; whilst her parents and the other adults from each clan would sit and talk for hours on end, she and the other children would run around after each other, giggling and shrieking as they played. When they grew tired, they would collapse with laboured breaths, weaving patterns from strands of grass as they stared at the clouds above.

Their parents would eventually round them up for lessons on Dalish heritage; as a child, Varya never appreciated being taken away from her new-found friends. However, as a newly forged adult, with her vallaslin proudly decorating her forehead and cheekbones with deep blue strands like tiny rivers, she understood at last.

The Arlathvhen helped preserve their culture. Clans intermingled to share knowledge and resources. The vallaslin was a mark of their adulthood. When the timing was right, members from two different clans would be promised to each other, and they would be theirs forever.

The last thought sent excited shivers down Varya’s spine as she scanned the crowd. It had only been seven months since Clan Lavellan and Clan Tillahnnen parted ways. Seven long months since Luthais, her lifelong friend, had kissed her hand and promised they would be together soon. Her heart was beating out of her ribcage at the thought of seeing him again.

Varya’s thoughts were interrupted by two delicate hands cupping her cheeks. Athenni, her mother, stood in front of her, beaming down at her with a look of pure adoration.

“Is it uncomfortable?” She asked.

Varya shook her head with a smile. “Don’t worry, mother. I’m all right.”

Athenni’s hands ghosted down her daughter’s face. “Good. I’m going to find your father, why don’t you mingle?”

Varya grinned. “That’s the plan.”

With a quick embrace they parted, Varya with a spring in her step as she weaved in and out of crowds, greeting childhood friends with enthused smiles as they examined each other’s vallaslins. Years had passed in the blink of an eye and here they were, adults at last. Heart hammering, she wondered what Luthais’s vallaslin looked like, which Elven god it was dedicated to.

Just when her chest began to ache with anticipation, they saw each other.

From this distance, he looked just like he had when they parted all those months ago; tall and slender, he stood half a head taller than her. His complexion was a sandy colour, warm like the dessert itself, and dotted with sepia freckles from a lifetime of living outdoors. Short dark brown hair, swept back away from his face. Hazel eyes that lit up like the sun above them when his eyes met hers.

They sprinted towards each other. When they finally collided, Luthais lifted Varya up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, laughing with pure, unadulterated joy as she smiled down at him. She brought a hand up to trace his jet black vallaslin.

“Andruil,” she whispered, afraid their moment would shatter if she spoke too loudly. “It suits you.”

Luthais’s eyes followed the complicated lines gracing Varya’s face. “Mythal. It looks beautiful on you.”

Their eyes landed on each other’s again, and did not leave until he set her down on the ground and took one of her hands.

“I missed you, Varya.” The words came from low in his chest. He ducked his head as he lifted her hand upwards, kissing the back of it.

“I missed you too, Luthais,” Varya replied, cheeks burning. No one around them seemed to be paying them any mind, thankfully.

“I… I thought about you a lot,” she added as his eyes found hers again.

His smile softened, shyness creeping into his face as he stepped closer to her. “As did I,” he breathed.

They closed their eyes and embraced each other. The chatter of everyone around them faded into the background as they locked together like puzzle pieces, hearts beating in unison.

Eventually, Luthais tilted his head towards Varya’s ear with a gentle question.

“We have a lot to catch up on. Shall we find somewhere more private?”

Varya pulled away from him with an enthusiastic nod, and took his hand.

Their cheerful saunter through the camp was cut short, however, as Cydis, Luthais’s father, stopped them in their tracks.

“Luthais! There you are.” He smiled at his son, only casting a brief glance at Varya. This didn’t go unnoticed; she squeezed Luthais’s hand.

“Father,” Luthais replied. “Is everything all right?”

Cydis nodded, but his expression hardened as he noticed their entwined fingers.

“There’s someone your mother and I would like you to meet. A mage, the daughter of-”

Luthais groaned audibly. His father was Keeper of their Clan and enjoyed parading his son around, much to Luthais’s annoyance.

“Can it wait, father? Varya and I haven’t seen each other in months.”

Cydis grumbled, but nodded, eyes cold as he watched them amble away together, hand in hand. They settled themselves on soft grass, bathing in the warmth of the sun.

“Your father didn’t look pleased to see me.” Varya frowned, biting her lip.

“The Arlathvhen can be stressful for Keepers, or so mother tells me,” Luthais replied, observing their surroundings. The camp was not too far in the distance; the excited chatter carried over to them, but they were significantly more alone at last.

Luthais placed a hand over one of Varya’s, casting her a tender smile. Her eyes sparkled magnificently in the sunlight, her vallaslin only accentuating their beauty. The thought that they would soon be each other’s forever filled him with unimaginable joy.

“Did I miss anything exciting whilst we were apart?” He asked.

Varya pondered for a moment, pursing her lips. “Amaril got kicked in the face by a halla. It was his own fault.”

A deep laugh burst from Luthais’s chest and he toppled onto his back, eyes squeezed shut.

“Is that all?” He snorted, abdomen still heaving.

Varya couldn’t help but laugh with him as she settled down next to him, propping her head up with one hand and arching one eyebrow. “Oh, I’m sure you have much more adventurous tales to tell.”

They stayed there for almost an hour, tripping over each other in their enthusiasm to share everything the other had missed. Not that there was a lot; but to have been parted for seven months was a lifetime in their hearts. Once more Cydis came to disturb them, this time with the company of Luthais’s mother, Nehari, and once more Luthais insisted on staying where he was.

Frustration was plain on his face as his parents departed again, but he softened again as Varya placed an arm over his shoulders.

“They’re just doing what’s expected of them.”

Luthais nodded, lips still pressed into a tight line.

A thought sparked in Varya’s head and her gaze took a mischievous turn; she leapt into a standing pose and towered above him, hands on her hips.

“If I recall correctly, you still owe me a rematch from last time.”

Luthais frowned with a curious smile as he stood up. “I don’t even have my sword. And you don’t have your blades.”

This didn’t seem to deter Varya; she paused for a moment, and in a flash, she was out of sight, scaling the nearest tree. Luthais followed the sound of rustling leaves, shaking his head in astonishment. Though she was small, some might even say unimposing, her fiery strength never failed to make his heart burn.

Thud. A stick landed on the ground, followed by two smaller ones.

Thud. Varya appeared, strands of hair from her ponytail splayed in all manner of directions. She picked up the larger stick and threw it to Luthais. His eyes widened and he stumbled, catching it awkwardly.

Varya chuckled, picking up the two smaller sticks and stepping closer to him.

“Now what’s your excuse?”

Luthais’s expression grew to match hers. He poised himself.

“All right Lethallan, you’re on.”

*

Cassandra had just replenished the firewood. An array of sticks, of all shapes and sizes, began to burn brightly as they were captured by the flames. Varya stared at them. She uncurled herself and stretched her hands out to the growing fire, trying to warm herself. The night had grown colder during their conversation.

Cassandra was leaning ever closer to Varya and had been making an array of enthusiastic noises with every sentence her friend had said. She thanked the Maker that Dorian and Sera were still soundly asleep, lest they make fun of her for her interest in romantic tales.

“You practiced sword fighting together?” The question was more out of enthusiasm than disbelief.

Varya nodded, not tearing her eyes away from the fire. Her grin was still there, but it had grown strained, tighter.

“And then what? Did his parents come back?” Cassandra asked. She made sure to keep her tone as delicate as she could.

Varya withdrew her hands and hid them in her lap.

“Yes. His parents came back again… this time with a girl.”

Cassandra didn’t dare make a sound.

“A mage, the daughter of another clan’s keeper. She was beautiful. Luthais lost his patience this time. He demanded to know why it was so important for him to meet this girl.”

At last, Varya’s eyes met Cassandra’s. Truthfully, the story did not pain her anymore; it was a long time ago. But seeing the look of genuine apprehension on the Seeker’s face made her heart tug in a way she did not expect, and she had to remind herself that this was the first Cassandra was hearing of this.

“And why was it?”

Varya smiled to herself, bittersweet. “They were betrothed.”

Cassandra couldn’t help the gasp that escaped this time as her stomach plummeted. “Oh, Maker.”

There was silence for a few moments, until Cassandra’s curiosity got the better of her.

“So… what happened after you found out? If you do not wish to say any more, I understand.”

Varya’s smile widened, heart melting at Cassandra’s careful consideration for a scar that had long since faded. She whipped her head around to the waterfall once more, eyebrows raising as she spoke again.

“Oh, a lot happened after that.”

*

The instant the words left Cydis’s mouth, the fight left Luthais’s eyes. He stood there, dumfounded, for several seconds.

He did not say that. Creators, he did not just say that.

Varya’s mouth had run dry, and her mind ground to a halt. She cast her gaze to the girl who was stood, rather timidly, several feet back; she had long flaxen hair, with a braid cascading down one side tucked behind her ear. Her green eyes were only made more brilliant by her blood red vallaslin – the same one as Varya’s, but simpler.

She wanted to hate her. She wanted to hate this girl with every fibre of her being, to will her out of existence and into the Fade – but she couldn’t. Her mind and body were numb.

When her mind did eventually return, the first thought she had was painfully rational.

It’s not her fault.

Luthais turned to Varya and she snapped back into existence.

“Please, excuse us.” His request was weak, as if he were entering into a battle he knew he would lose, but his eyes held promise as they lingered on hers.

Varya swallowed, and smiled softly at them all. “Of course.”

And with that, she fled.

She didn’t stop at the camp. She didn’t stop when her father called her over to greet his friend. She didn’t stop when the halla perked up at her presence with cheerful noises. She kept walking, walking, walking until she reached a place with no path, then she stopped.

Her heart was aching and hammering in her chest. The birds in the trees were screaming in her ears, the leaves rustling in the wind carried sentences she did not want to hear, sentences that bombarded her mind again and again.

He won’t be yours. You won’t be his.

Varya picked up her pace again and ran until the trees were behind her, stopping once more when she saw what stood in front of her.

A river – the same one that must have been running through camp, she thought – leading up to a waterfall. She trudged forward until she was close enough that the sound of rushing water drowned out her mind, the cool mist landing on her face offering slight relief from the hot sun. She noticed the boulders either side of the waterfall were climbable, almost as if someone had carved them into makeshift steps. With light footsteps, she made her way across one side, and was pleasantly surprised by the sight that awaited her.

She was in a small cave, filled not with imposing rocks but a plethora of moss and flowers, made possible by the light that flooded into the space from the opening. It was beautiful, and best of all, secluded.

Varya sighed as reality caught up with her once more. She dropped down to the ground and hugged her knees, feeling tears spring to her eyes as her face crumpled.

How foolish they were for believing they could have each other. Luthais was the son of a Keeper, of course he would be promised to someone of great power like a mage. The thought offered little comfort.

Varya lifted her head up, uncurling herself with a sniff. Luthais had looked just as defeated as she felt, and it made her wonder what was transpiring. She could picture him now, shouts echoing above and beyond the trees, eyes on fire, words cold as ice. She knew him well; he was a warrior, and he would not go down lightly.

Her heart only ached more knowing how he would fight for her, a testament to how much they loved each other. Was this the Creators’ idea of fun? To watch them suffer?

“Damn it,” she cursed to herself. Her hand found a small rock; she hurled it through the streaming water with a cry.

“Damn it all!”

Almost two hours had passed, and the sun had set. Varya had stopped crying some time ago, but now she lay on the ground, motionless, staring at the roof of the cave. She had managed to summon a small amount of energy to collect some branches from the trees just outside the cave and build a fire; Creators know how she didn’t get the branches wet carrying them back in.

At least something went right today, she thought.

She turned on her side, watching tiny embers float upwards and disappear into darkness. She knew she needed to return to camp; her parents would be wondering where she was. But no part of her wanted to move.

That was until a soft shuffle came from the cave entrance. She sat up immediately, tensing her muscles.

Luthais entered the cave. Varya relaxed upon recognising him, but her stomach dropped at the look on his face. He was weary, walking with the posture of someone with little fight left in him. Varya stood up to meet him, and for the first time in a long time, she avoided his gaze.

Luthais drew in a shaky breath, his heart already shattered from an evening of arguments to no avail. He took Varya’s hands in his and squeezed them, and she looked up at him.

She offered an optimistic smile, but the soreness of her eyes gave her away. He swallowed, feeling his chest tighten.

“I did everything I could to change their minds. But they said it’s final.” The words were hoarse.

Varya felt her heart sink. Not what she had hoped to hear, but it wasn’t unexpected.

Luthais’s bottom lip trembled, and he squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, a single tear escaped.

“I’m so sorry, Varya.”

He threw her into a tight embrace, clinging to her as if for the last time. She returned the gesture, tears flowing again. She pulled away to cradle his face, wiping the lone tear away.

“It’s all right, Luthais,” she whispered. She knew she was lying to them both, but it pained her to see him so anguished.

Hurt and confusion crossed his eyes, so she continued.

“It’s not your fault. You did everything you could. I… I suppose the Keeper’s son has little say in his own romantic affairs.” The last sentence was tinged with slight bitterness.

Luthais leaned into her touch, a slight smile finally returning to his face.

“Sometimes I wish I wasn’t the Keeper’s son,” he laughed.

Varya laughed with him, though it was empty. He straightened his posture and took hold of her hands again.

“I suppose you’re right though, as much as I wish you weren’t.”

Varya nodded, looking upwards. The moonlight was reflecting on the water surface, casting dancing silver waves above them.

“I don’t know what kind of cruel trick the Creators are playing on us, but…” Luthais hesitated.

“Perhaps romance is not in our future,” Varya finished, voice wobbling slightly at the end.

Luthais exhaled and closed his eyes, bowing his head.

“Perhaps not,” he agreed when his eyes met hers again.

Silence for several seconds. Both of their heads were swimming with grief and unspoken words. Luthais stepped forward, determined not to let his feelings be entirely clouded by duty. Not while he was alone with the woman he had loved since he was a boy.

“But, please remember. You will always hold a special place in my heart.”

Varya broke into a smile, though she felt as if a knife had been plunged straight through the two of them.

“As will you.”

Luthais returned her smile, wishing there was another way. But he knew his father would be looking for him, so he left in the only way he felt fit. He placed his lips gently on Varya’s forehead, closing his eyes and committing this moment, her touch, to memory.

Then he left, both of them trailing their grasps on each other until the last fingers parted.

Varya turned on the spot. Her heart was burning with an intense array of emotions she had not expected to feel. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took in a deep breath.

What was that Shem saying? Better to have loved and lost than never at all, or something like that. Varya wasn’t entirely sure she believed that right now. Her first love had been promised to someone else. It wasn’t fair, but that concluded her first love story.

Or so she thought.

Not sixty seconds later she was greeted by the sound of hasty footsteps. She whipped round to see Luthais stood once more, panting from effort with a renewed sense of purpose in his eyes.

“Luthais,” Varya began as he paced over to her. “What are you-”

Before she could finish her question, his lips collided with hers. She gasped in slight shock before melting into his arms as he brought one hand to the back of her head, the other on her waist.

They parted after several seconds, eyelids hooded and breaths raspy. Luthais took one of her hands and dropped to his knees.

“I love you. And I know I can’t escape my duty but I love you Varya and I want to be yours, if only for tonight. If you’ll have me.”

Varya’s head was still spinning from the feel of his kiss as she processed his words. Was he really suggesting…?

“But… if you don’t, just say the word and I’ll leave,” he added quietly.

This was enough to pull her back into the moment. With newfound confidence, she tugged on his hand and he arose. She wasted no time in pulling him in to kiss her once more. When they were only millimetres apart and their foreheads were touching, her words tickled his cheekbones; soft, but full of radiance.

“I love you too, Luthais. I want nothing more than to be yours.”

Luthais sighed in relief, smiling brightly, eyes and heart on fire. He kissed her again and again and she swept her hands through his hair, determined to discover every inch of him in ways she never had before. He hummed appreciatively, smiling against her skin as he worked his lips across her jawline. Varya sighed, feeling her knees weaken. She worked her hands down his chest, tugging on his tunic. His eyes met hers and they smiled at each other, hearts fluttering with anticipation and slight nerves. His own hands found the lace on her blouse, and he began to unravel it.

The cave was filled with the happy, excited laughter of two young lovers as they kissed every new square inch of available skin, clothes and smalls flying in all manner of directions as they sank towards the fireside together, hearts full and content for now.

*

Varya was still staring at the waterfall. Her head had sunken dreamily into her hands as she recounted the tale, and she ended with a wistful sigh.

Cassandra sat next to her with one hand lingering on her chest, overwhelmed by all she had just heard. She let out a long, high-pitched sigh.

“Well,” she began. “That was-”

 “Diiiirrty!”

“Almost as beautiful as me.”

Varya and Cassandra jumped in shock at the additional voices, turning to see Dorian and Sera now awake, smug grins on both of their faces.

“You two!” Cassandra cried. “How long have you been listening?”

“Long enough to ‘ave heard the good parts,” Sera replied, giggling. “Our dear Lady Inquisitor, lost her first pair of breeches in the rough. You gotta love it!”

Sera erupted into laughter at her own analogy. Varya groaned and rubbed her forehead, knowing she would never hear the end of this. “Ugh, Fenedhis.”

“Well I thought it was rather sweet,” Dorian interjected. “Don’t worry, we won’t tell Cullen,” he added with a wink.

Sera blew a raspberry at him. “You won’t. I might.”

“Sera! This was a long time ago,” Varya protested.

“What? Just kiddin’, don’t get your knickers in a twist. I’ll just use it against you next time you try an’ beat me at Wicked Grace.”

Varya couldn’t help but laugh at this, shaking her head as Sera spread herself out on the ground next to the fire with a cheeky grin. Dorian laughed at the thought, but offered a good-natured smile.

Cassandra was considerably less amused; she let out a disgusted noise.

“C’mon, ‘sandra. You’ve gotta have a tale of your own.”

Cassandra’s reply was blunt. “Not for your ears.”

Sera groaned. “Booooriiinnng. ‘Bout you, Dorian?”

Dorian shook his head with a tut. “My exquisite tale could not possibly be summed up before sunrise. I think it’s about time we got some rest.”

“Ugh, fine.” Sera sprung to her feet and wandered to her tent as Dorian made his way to his own with a subtle nod to Varya and Cassandra.

Cassandra shook her head at the two of them and turned to Varya. Her cheeks were pink from more than just the fire’s heat, but she was grinning.

“A shame about the interruption,” Cassandra broke the silence. “But thank you for telling me. I can tell that story was very close to your heart.”

Varya smiled at her. “Thank you for listening,” she replied. “You still owe me your story now, though.”

Cassandra laughed. “Another time.”