Number 5 for Varric/Ceci!
(This was gonna be all cute, but then my brain went to sad places, so have this horribly rushed mess of angst.)
He knew Hawke was there before he even saw her, the daggers on his table and the Mabari laying before the hearth a clear indication of her presence as soon as he set foot through the door to his room.
He’d told her years ago to make herself at home within his suite whenever she saw fit and never found himself surprised by unplanned visits, particularly given that the two of them saw each other almost every day as it was. The Hanged Man was very much a home away from home for Cecilia and where she spent a great deal of her time most days, so it was no shock to find her in his room, waiting for him to arrive.
Finding her curled up on his bed, however, was something entirely new.
Varric kept his voice low, sitting down slow and soft as not to jar her awake, a hand settling gentle and warm atop her arm just as her eyes fluttered open, seeking his face straight away. She made no move to sit up or stretch, remaining still and settled on her side, saying nothing for a while as she stared up at him. The dark circles she’d been sporting beneath her eyes for the past week had only grown deeper, accentuating all of the exhaustion and grief he knew she’d been fighting against, the sight of her looking so worn down as startling as it was heartbreaking.
Cecilia didn’t typically wear her worries where others could see them, not unless she absolutely needed to or could no longer keep her troubles to herself. When she had any sort of emotional burden to bear, she tended to carry the weight by herself, deal with it in private until she’d worked past it all or found the strength to lock it away. She confided in her friends, of course, but not as often as he felt she ought to, and even when she opened up about her personal demons she tended to hold back a little, preferring to offer support than seek it out if she felt she was capable of enduring things on her own. Seeing her as she looked in that moment, so utterly devastated by the loss she’d suffered and unable to conceal it, nearly stole the breath from his lungs.
“It’s too quiet there. Too empty since…”
He didn’t need her to finish the sentence, the way she swallowed hard when her voice seemed close to breaking showing that her heart was so full of fresh, raw pain.
“I’m not sleeping, but I keep having daydreams about her still being there. About how things might have gone had I gotten to her sooner. What I could have done to keep her safe. I keep imagining it, going over it over and over, wondering how I might have prevented him from taking her..”
“Hawke, no. Don’t do that to yourself.”
She shook her head before he could say any more, not yet wanting the reassurances he had to tell her, and he knew that it was because the words would send her over the edge, make the tears welling up in her eyes actually fall before she was willing to let them do so.
“I’m so fucking tired, Varric.”
If she meant that she was just physically tired or tired of losing people close to her, Varric didn’t know and he didn’t think he needed to ask. What he did know was that some rest would probably make it a little easier for her to deal with her demons, help her find the strength to piece herself together as she always managed to whenever something in her life went horribly wrong.
“Then close your eyes, Hawke. Try to get some sleep. I’m not going anywhere.”
Varric toed his boots off, the sound of them clattering to the floor beside the bed resonating throughout the room as he settled down beside her, laying down on his back with his arms opened up to her, her cheek pressing against his chest without even the slightest hesitation. He held on to her, pulling her as close as he could, wanting her to feel that he was there and that he’d stay, knowing how badly she needed to feel that she wasn’t going to lose him when she’d lost so much.
“Just rest, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
He pulled the hair back from her face, stroking his fingers through the strands to try and help her relax, wishing he’d had the forethought to remove his gloves beforehand, taking in the scent of her as he waited for the tension in her body to ease.
Varric closed his own eyes as he felt her become limp against him, her breaths even and warm against his chest. He focused on the sound, on the relief of knowing that she was finally getting some much needed sleep, needing the distraction from the his own memories of dead parents and what if scenarios and the ache of finally knowing what it felt like to hold her close to him.
