Chapter Text
PROLOGUE
“You really managed to piss off your bosses.” Varric… that dwarf with the big crossbow from the village stood outside the damp dungeon, the iron bars locked tight. “I thought you were kidding when you said you were an expert in trouble. Turns out… you’re the real deal.”
“Warden, on your feet!” The guard shouted, earning an unamused glance from Varric. Standing with a black eye and a crooked nose, the woman inside took the last few pieces of soggy bread from her tray and tossed them to the rats that’d been keeping her company. “Looks like you managed to dodge the noose… again.” The guard scoffed, opening the heavy door with loud clanks of the key and bars.
“My stuff?” The woman asked, but the guard chuckled before gesturing to the dirty blue Warden fatigues.
“Looks like you’ve got all you need. Shouldn’t have pissed off the higher ups so much. I actually thought they’d kill you this time… or exile you. Not sure which would be worse for you.” The guard gave the woman an almost friendly shove as he gestured to the dwarf. “Get out of here before someone changes their mind. Even Varric Tethras might run out of sway if you cause trouble again.”
“Thanks, Cawllen. Try to be a little less of a dick the next time I see you, yeah?” The woman was at the taller end of five foot nine, but her muscles were lean and sharp. The guard–Cawllen–was easily six foot seven, with wide barrel shoulders and wearing eighty pounds of armor.
“Scram, Thorne. Or I’ll make sure little ReRe has an accident on the steps.” His threat was meant to be menacing, but was met with an arrogant eye roll from the young Thorne. As she followed Varric up the damp stone steps, ignoring the stares and annoyance from onlookers, the man glanced back over his shoulder with a shit-eating grin.
“You sure know how to make friends, kid.” Varric didn’t take long to direct Thorne to a nearby village. He’d made idle chitchat, lamenting how Thorne managed to come up with her ingenious plan that saved a town and its citizens from the darkspawn just a week ago. He talked… a lot. Thorne listened, wondering exactly what Varric thought he owed her from getting him out of the tight spot in that town. Not letting her get killed by her own Order was a nice reward, but she knew better than to think she was released just because he asked nicely. When they reached the inn in a tiny village a half a day’s walk away from the outpost where she was being imprisoned, Thorne finally had to ask.
“Why am I here, Varric?” They sat at the tavern, drinks filled to the brim and the first warm food Thorne had in weeks was just under her nose.
“See? That’s why I like you, kid. You’re not afraid to ask questions.” He smirked, and Thorne tilted her head with an amused quirk of her eyebrow.
“I thought you liked me because I saved you from a horde of darkspawn?” She earned a loud laugh from the dwarf, and he shrugged.
“That too. I’ve heard alot about you. Not only did you lead that band of misfits to save that town–against orders–but you did it knowing exactly what was waiting for you. And it was a crazy plan! I’m still not sure how you pulled it off, but from the sounds of it, you don’t know how to quit and it’s helped you survive the craziest shit I’ve ever heard.” Varric leaned forwards, his hand tapping the table as if he was pointing at a battle map. “And right now, I need someone with that skill set on my team.”
“If you didn’t notice, the Wardens didn’t exactly like how I handled being on a team the last time.” Thorne reminded him, and Varric recalled exactly how Thorne lost half her team fighting the darkspawn and taking the responsibility so none of the others would be blamed for disobeying orders. This woman just didn’t back down when she believed in something. “My skill set seems to excel in chaos, bad luck, and the impossible.”
“You said you were the expert in trouble, and that is what I need.” Varric grinned when Thorne rolled up her sleeves and leaned back in her chair. “Now… I’m looking for someone named Solas. But, tell me, what do you know about the Dread Wolf?”
“God of Lies? I guess, just the stories people tell around the fire.” Thorne leaned forwards now, and Varric saw a hint of something he knew was just below the surface: curiosity. As much as the Grey Wardens must’ve tried to stifle that from the young woman before him, it was a trait that was suppressed just below the surface. And if he could catch her attention, if he could catch her curiosity, she might just be perfect for their impossible mission. “Are you going to tell me a bedtime story?”
“This one isn’t going to be the story your parents tell you just before bed, kid. But, what if I told you that if we’re successful, by the end of this whole thing, you’ll have met the God of Lies?” Varric watched the curiosity be overshadowed by amusement and a genuine laugh. It still sounded rough, almost like Thorne was more exasperated by than amused.
“You know, us elves usually use ‘meeting the Dread Wolf’ as a threat, right?” Rook was an elf, with the ears to prove it, but Varric doubted she cared much for gods and folklore. Or maybe she just never had the chance to learn it? “You said you needed the Grey Wardens to help you find Solas?”
“Not the Grey Wardens. I need you.” Varric reiterated. “I have a scout, and the backing of some… old friends. Solas plans to tear down the Veil.” This information dropped the amusement from the Warden’s expression, and she waited. “He can’t do it yet, but he will if we don’t stop him.”
“You want to save all of Thedas?” At Varric’s very serious but casual nod, Thorne sighed despite the twitch of interest. She didn’t know nearly enough details, but if Varric was serious about this ‘Solas’s’ ability to actually tear down the Veil, then someone had to stop him. And it beat sitting in a Grey Warden dungeon or living the rest of her days out stationed right outside the Deep Roads until she was finally killed. “Where do we start?”
So… like most stories, this one started in a tavern. There an unlikely hero with an impossible mission and zero chance of succeeding decided to try anyway. Varric always had a knack for finding just the right misfit for the occasion. The only thing left was to…
“That tattoo on your arm… what’s that about?” The castle was inked in an oily black color, almost as black as the ooze from the darkspawn. Glancing at her arm, Thorne lifted her sleeve higher to reveal the castle. It was grand and had a griffon poised at the battlement at the top.
“It’s a picture of home.” She answered easily, and Varric laughed. “I couldn’t get all of Weisshaupt to fit on my arm.
“Home? They wanted to kill you.”
“Most of them still do. Everyone wants to kill me at some point or another.” She answered bluntly, and Varric shook his head with a wide grin. “They’re more than welcome to try.”
“That’s what I need on the chessboard. I’ve found my Rook.”