Chapter Text
As Krista walked through the Great Hall on her way to Cullen’s office, she could see Varric still at his table. He was normally off to the tavern at this time of night. Now curious, she wandered over to see him. When she got closer, she could see bits of folded paper strewn across the table, and just had to ask.
“This may be a daft question, and you know I’m all for daft questions, but what are you doing?” she asked, watching his hands putting folded pieces of paper together in a strange misshapen form.
“I’m building a model boat. It seemed an apt use for the letters from the Merchant’s Guild,” he retorted still concentrating on his task.
“Right, right,” she looked at him, nodding and furrowing her eyebrows. “That’ll teach me to ask a daft question.”
“You off to see Curly then?” Varric asked now looking up with a small smile on his face. “For your daily whatchamacallit?”
“Yep...that reminds me...why do you call him Curly?” Krista always wondered why, she asked Cullen but he’d hedged that question.
Varric gave a loud throaty laugh “Have you tried asking him?”
“He avoids it when I do, and since it’s your nickname for him, I thought you could tell me.”
“I bet he does. All I will say is that his hair doesn’t naturally stay like it is.” His tone almost conspiratorial. He winked at her, and she pursed her lips, then smiled in recognition.
“Maker, he styles his hair? I’m going to have a field day with this. I’ll need just the right moment. Thank you Varric,” she replied. Another weapon in her arsenal, she thought.
“Don’t you two ever get tired of winding each other up? I mean, aren’t there more fun ways to pass the time?” he asked winking again.
“Very funny, but that joke died a long time ago. Sorry to disappoint,” she grinned and turned. “Night Varric. And I wouldn’t let anyone sail that boat if I were you. They might piss off the Merchant’s Guild too.”
“Yeah, yeah. Night Cat,” he replied, shaking his head and went back to his model building.
Krista wandered into Solas’s rotunda; he was still there, finishing off the latest section of the mural, the fall of Haven. Solas was plotting the major milestones of the Inquisition, but so far there hadn’t been many good ones. She sighed quietly; his work was beautiful, very different from the painting she was used to seeing. Some would call it a naive style, but it had much more emotion to it than conventional work. He was deeply absorbed, so she decided to just slip past quietly and leave him to his work.
Krista walked over the bridge and opened the door to Cullen’s office, stepping in and was just about to greet him, when she heard Cullen shout.
“Get out!”
What she saw in her brief glance in, was Hawke sitting on his desk, with him standing close to her. Hawke had turned, and was looking at Krista quite bemused, but Cullen was still facing Hawke. Krista realised he evidently thought she was a messenger interrupting. She raised her eyebrows, now smiling, turned on her heel and left, quietly shutting the door behind her. Now that was worth chocolates and ale at least, she thought, how many times had she asked him not to be rude to the messengers. But now she had another thought, and skipped off to find Varric again.
Cullen saw Hawke’s bemused stare as she faced him again.
“What?” he asked brusquely. “I don’t like interruptions. The new ones are always wandering in without knocking.”
Hawke suppressed a smile. “I see, and how many new Inquisitors do you get here? I understood there was just the one,” she traced her finger up his neck and chin.
“That was...? Maker’s breath!” Cullen rubbed his forehead and groaned. “We were due to meet as well. Krista is going to love this. Urgh. I’d better go and see her.”
Cullen kissed Hawke on the cheek. “I appreciate the offer, but things are different now.” He left heading for the Great Hall.
“So I see,” Hawke replied quietly. She smiled, wondering if he knew, what he really meant by that.
Krista had found Varric, still with his misshapen contraption. He raised his head when she called him.
“Back so soon Cat?” he asked puzzled.
“Varric, may I ask you something?” she inquired, her face deadpan now.
“Sure, ask away. I may not answer though,” he replied, smirking slightly.
“Did Cullen and Hawke have a thing back in Kirkwall?” she used her best ‘tell me’ face on him.
Varric lowered his voice. “How did you...? Never mind. It wasn’t common knowledge, but briefly, yes.” He watched her when he spoke again “Why?”
“Because I’ve just seen them back in his office, and trust me I know familiarity when I see it.” She was whispering now. She saw Varric draw back his head, now doubtful. “Go and look if you don’t believe me. Ahh...well, maybe that isn’t a good idea...” Krista scratched her cheek.
But before he could answer, the door to the rotunda opened, and Cullen appeared.
“Think you might be wrong there,” Varric whispered out of the corner of his mouth to Krista.
“So I see,” she whispered back, turning slightly to face Cullen.
“Inquisitor, I came to apologise. I didn’t realise it was you at the door.” He rolled his eyes, thinking what was the penalty this time?
“Commander, if that had been a messenger, would you have rushed so quickly to provide an apology?” she asked, arms folded, her hand tapping one arm gently. She saw Varric turn away, stifling a snigger. “And I believe we had a meeting too, or was I mistaken?” A smile was tugging at the corners of her mouth now.
Cullen could see she was starting to crack. “Sweet Maker! Just tell me what I owe, and let’s be done with this. And my room is free if you wish to come back.”
“Well, let me see. I think chocolates and ale for the messengers this time, as you obviously still are unable to be civil. And as for me, well, let’s just say I’ll bank that favour for now. To be withdrawn at my convenience,” she paused. “Agreed?” She could hear Varric cough, trying to suppress a laugh now.
Hawke arrived through the rotunda door as Krista was speaking, and seeing Varric, went to join him. She briefly nodded at Varric before settling to watch what was happening.
Cullen hung his head and sighed. “Yes, fine. Agreed.” He then looked up and then crossed his arms. When he spoke his tone was stern, but he was slightly smiling. “Hmm...there is one other thing. You would agree that the Inquisitor should possess enough manners to knock on someone’s door, and not just barge in.”
“You have a point there, Commander.” It was Krista’s turn to pay the penalty now. “What’s the price?” she asked, briefly scrunching up her eyes.
“Meat pastries, for tomorrow’s meeting I think. Agreed?” Cullen’s eyebrow raised waiting for her to confirm.
“OK, agreed.” She sighed. “You do know it’ll piss off Cook, me baking while she’s there.” She watched as he was nodding at her, and groaned.
Both Hawke and Varric were quietly sniggering at this point.
Cullen then smiled broadly at Krista. “Now, are you coming back?”
Krista beamed back at him. ”Lead the way, Commander.”
As Cullen and Krista left saying goodnight, Hawke turned to Varric, “Are they...?” she began.
“Not yet. As far as they’re concerned they’re just friends,” he replied and then asked “So, what were you doing with Cullen then?”
“Oh, I just thought just one for old time’s sake. He looks better than he did in Kirkwall. Isabella wouldn’t mind. But he turned me down, politely of course,” she answered and then realised. “Wait...how did you know?” she asked leaning forward.
“Cat saw it. Not much gets past her. Except when it involves her and Curly.” Varric picked up his paper boat and looked at it, and decided to throw it on the fire.
“What made you call her Cat?” Hawke was well familiar with Varric and his nicknames.
Varric was in the middle of picking up some of the letters on the table when he answered. “If you get a chance, watch her when you’re in combat at Adamant, and you’ll understand.” He threw the letters onto the fire, next to the rapidly burning paper boat.
Then they both heard Cullen’s voice shouting “Sweet Maker, will you get off the wall now!” followed by a loud peal of laughter from Krista.
Varric shook his head and smiled, as Hawke looked at him quizzically. “Don’t look at me. I don’t get it either. Some bizarre mating ritual that nobody gets, including them I suspect. They seem to thrive on getting a rise out of each other. My money’s on him working it out first, Cat maybe later.”
“I take it you have a book on them already then?” Hawke asked knowing full well he would have.
Varric took a small notebook out of his pocket and picked up a quill from the table. “How much then, and what length of time?” he asked, ready for the bet.