Varric blinked. Shit, she caught him staring like a damn teenager. His brain launched into bullshit mode as easy as breathing, and his expression cleared into one of those snapping-out-of-a-daze looks, followed by a smirk.
"Hm? Oh, sorry, Hawke. Just wondering how you humans get anything done with those long arms and legs everywhere. You people are like spiders in skirts."
Of course, what came pouring out of his mouth was the stupidest shit in the world, but Varric didn't always have control over how his brain handled the on-the-fly falsehoods. It was a little like trying to control a stampede of wild horses. Sometimes masterful deceptions happened, and other times he insulted Hawke by calling her a spider.
Hawke just staaaaaaared at him for a long moment, her lips pressing together in that way they did when she was doing her very best to not laugh outright at her friend. “Spiders. Really, Varric?” There was no hiding the amusement in her voice, or in her eyes. “I’m hurt. Incredibly hurt.” Except not so much; she was too damn amused to be hurt.
Varric put a hand on his chest in mock horror. "I am dreadfully sorry, messere, please- accept my apologies."
By way of apology, he offered her a random sweet sitting on the table (what was it, one of those weird Nevarran candies Isabela stole the other day?), as if it were some kind of precious jewel. When Hawke reaches for it, he's going to quickly turn his hand to grab hers, and kiss the back of it like some kinda gentleman, all bowing and scraping and ~repenting~ for his insult.
“As you should be,” Hawke replied, and then she heaved a mock-put-upon sigh. “I suppose I can accept your apologies. This time.”
Reaching out, she moved to pluck the offered sweet from his hand... only to be caught by surprise as he grabbed her hand in hers and kissed the back of it. Oh. That was... unexpected. She wasn’t blushing, she totally wasn’t blushing. He was just... being Varric. Putting on the most arch expression she can muster, she nodded. “That’s better,” she retorted, reaching over with her other hand to snatch the sweet and pop it gracefully into her mouth.
“Of course, serah,” he groveled insincerely, grabbing a candy for himself.
Resuming the conversation after that was fairly easy. The topic drifted and wove in and out of Chateau Haine, wandering over the drinking habits of nobles and if what Aveline has under her armor was just more armor. Eventually they were discussing the particulars of Meredith and Orsino’s torrid love affair in between laughing at weird fan mail for Varric.
“I’m not saying he’s the top there,” Varric explained, leaning back against the table. Ignoring how close her knees were to his. “I’m just saying she wouldn’t be doing all the angry slamming.”
“Maker’s breath, Varric, that isn’t a mental image I need,” Hawke managed through her laughter, pinching the bridge of her nose. “And it’s definitely not one I wanted. Ever.” She grabbed her tankard and downed the rest of its contents. “I don’t think there’s enough ale in the world to scrub that image from my mind.”
Varric tries valiantly for the deadpan serious shit, but an incredibly undignified cackle bursts out of him. As always, he's incredibly pleased with himself, and delighted by his own jokes- though not half as much as he's delighted by the disgust on her face.
"Not enough ale, but maybe some weird fan mail," he says conversationally, taking a swig of ale and picking a random letter off the table. Without looking at it he wings it at her. This game is fun: open the weird fanmail, see if it's an uninvited critique, a marriage proposal, or someone swearing that they actually saw Donnen Brennokovic in Cumberland the other day, seriously!
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2017-12-01 05:13 am (UTC)"Hm? Oh, sorry, Hawke. Just wondering how you humans get anything done with those long arms and legs everywhere. You people are like spiders in skirts."
Of course, what came pouring out of his mouth was the stupidest shit in the world, but Varric didn't always have control over how his brain handled the on-the-fly falsehoods. It was a little like trying to control a stampede of wild horses. Sometimes masterful deceptions happened, and other times he insulted Hawke by calling her a spider.
Fuck.
no subject
Date: 2017-12-14 08:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-12-15 12:16 am (UTC)By way of apology, he offered her a random sweet sitting on the table (what was it, one of those weird Nevarran candies Isabela stole the other day?), as if it were some kind of precious jewel. When Hawke reaches for it, he's going to quickly turn his hand to grab hers, and kiss the back of it like some kinda gentleman, all bowing and scraping and ~repenting~ for his insult.
no subject
Date: 2017-12-20 10:56 am (UTC)Reaching out, she moved to pluck the offered sweet from his hand... only to be caught by surprise as he grabbed her hand in hers and kissed the back of it. Oh. That was... unexpected. She wasn’t blushing, she totally wasn’t blushing. He was just... being Varric. Putting on the most arch expression she can muster, she nodded. “That’s better,” she retorted, reaching over with her other hand to snatch the sweet and pop it gracefully into her mouth.
no subject
Date: 2017-12-20 05:49 pm (UTC)Resuming the conversation after that was fairly easy. The topic drifted and wove in and out of Chateau Haine, wandering over the drinking habits of nobles and if what Aveline has under her armor was just more armor. Eventually they were discussing the particulars of Meredith and Orsino’s torrid love affair in between laughing at weird fan mail for Varric.
“I’m not saying he’s the top there,” Varric explained, leaning back against the table. Ignoring how close her knees were to his. “I’m just saying she wouldn’t be doing all the angry slamming.”
no subject
Date: 2018-01-08 06:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-01-08 07:50 am (UTC)"Not enough ale, but maybe some weird fan mail," he says conversationally, taking a swig of ale and picking a random letter off the table. Without looking at it he wings it at her. This game is fun: open the weird fanmail, see if it's an uninvited critique, a marriage proposal, or someone swearing that they actually saw Donnen Brennokovic in Cumberland the other day, seriously!