Maddening was a good word for it. She'd always been a bit of that, at least. That was what had grabbed his attention to begin with. Then her love of his books, and the softer, hidden side that she tried to tuck away even from herself. The entire package, to be fair, was truly what drew Varric to Cassandra. For years (had it been years already?), he was willing to just assume it was some violent crusade against Corypheus that had made things more appealing, but having closure with Bianca (the person, not the crossbow) and then finding himself in this place had given him more… encouragement - he could go with encouragement - to pursue something with her, if she was interested. And she seemed interested enough.
"Are you ready to order?" asked the server, interrupting his thoughts. He realized that he was staring at the menu, not really seeing it. Closing it and setting it aside, he glanced up at the server. Some young kid, probably doing this part-time and just doing his job. It wasn't annoying. "Sorry kid, still waiting for my company. I'm here early and if I try to order for her, she'll tell me she's perfectly capable of ordering her own food."
Cassandra was nervous. Not only because of the nature of this conversation she had forced, but because it was happening only hours after she had made a complete fool of herself in several ways over Isabela’s network post. Mostly, however, it was because as she had told Varric, this was all too new to her. She was on unsteady ground, quite unexplored territory. Not so long ago, she had thought Varric hated her. Imagining a relationship with him that went in any way beyond what they had always been was ludicrous and yet… well, sometimes all it took was one event to change everything. Cassandra knew this very well.
In good Cassandra fashion, however, she was concerned and unsure, anxious in a way no battle had ever made her. In fact, she half preferred to be in battle, half wished for one to break out. No such luck however, even as she arrived at the appointed place and time and spotted Varric talking to a server. He was already here? Great. Now she was late. She delayed her arrival until after the server walked away, and as she showed herself and sat down Cassandra remained silent and avoided looking at Varric. “Have you been waiting long?”
"Not at all. I got here early so I could watch you walk in," answered Varric, smiling over at her. He leaned slightly to fetch something he'd set under his chair when he'd first arrived, then pulled out an arrangement of flowers. He couldn't remember what kinds they were, but he'd insisted on a variety of color and the florist had delivered. It had just struck him that she would appreciate a custom bundle, with thought put into it, over some token group of roses.
"You wouldn't believe how hard it is to get decent flowers in winter around here," he joked, handing them over to her. "But these are for you. I figured we could treat this as an actual date, if that's all right with you." Unless the 'conversation' went a different way, that was. And if so, he'd need to cancel the tableside violinist that was scheduled to accompany their entrees.
Cassandra’s reaction to Varric’s response was an altogether overly girly (perhaps a little anxious) chuckle, coupled with a familiar rush of warmth to her cheeks. She wasn’t used to this kind of flattery - not malicious, she knew, but she felt flattered nonetheless. The only other man who had remarked on her looks as desirable had been Galyan. In fact, he was the only other man to do many of the things Varric had done during her time here. Such as give her flowers; another thing Cassandra had not been expecting, as evidenced by her wide eyes of mild shock and delay in taking the bundle from his hands. She held it with both hands, closing her eyes briefly to feel the flowers’ scent and hide the enormous, goofy smile the very gesture brought to her lips.
“Thank you, Varric.” She managed eventually, voice slightly muffled by the flowers which she had no idea what to do with now. “I… Yes, that is quite all right. These are lovely. I’m not- I need a place for them. Now and later, I am not accustomed to-” She stopped herself, took a deep breath, and looked back across the table at Varric. “Thank you. Uhh how… are you?”
"Better," he replied, a smile playing across his lips. He could credit his lifestyle of being both a storyteller and sort-of spymaster for his ability to observe and read body language, which meant he was glad to see how well the flowers were received. "They should be fine on the table, but if you're worried we can ask the server to put them someplace safe while we're here. You look good," he added, nodding his head forward as if to gesture at the outfit she was wearing.
Varric tended to lean towards shades of red and black himself, so he wasn't sure if she'd done the same to appeal to him on purpose or if completely by accident. Still, he wasn't one to take it for granted. If there was anything he'd learned from Hawke over the years, you don't ask questions when someone you care about makes a significant gesture that impacts you. Especially since he knew that she was already out of her usual comfort zone - and that wasn't entirely Atlantis' doing.
“Thank you. It seemed appropriate for the weather and reminded me of what I usually wear but not as armoured. And a little more vivid.” Cassandra replied with a sheepish smile while setting the flowers on the table beside her. “...You look good as well.” She added, wishing not everything that came out of her mouth was awkward and stilted.
Taking the menu in her hands, Cassandra perused it distractedly as her gaze kept returning to Varric though she wasn’t sure how to continue the conversation from there. Everything seemed so much simpler in a situation of conflict. “What do you recommend here? And, um, thank you for choosing to have our talk here, it’s quite nice to be invited out.” That wasn’t great, and Cassandra’s mortified expression as soon as the words left her mouth were evidence enough.
"Then consider it an open invitation," answered Varric, choosing to ignore her expression. Making fun of her inability to emote in public would only cause her to tuck it away in humiliation, which was not the goal for tonight. Not any night, if he could help it. There'd been too many times that he'd relished seeing her flustered and stomping off and while he might still enjoy that on occasion, it was important to choose your moments. Continuing, he picked up his own menu again. "I'm happy to take you out any night, any where, so long as you're up for going. And the venison tenderloin is especially good. The mache salad's a good starter. Though you should definitely start with a drink."
At least Varric had managed to change her mood and bring a pleased smile to Cassandra’s face with his open invitation. What a charming dwarf he could be when he wanted. She knew that, of course, but had never been on the receiving end of his charm so consistently before.
“I suppose I don’t mind a cozy night in either, but it’s nice to know the option is there.” She said, looking over the menu again while Varric guided her. Not too long after the waiter returned, asking politely whether they were ready to order now that ‘the lady’ had arrived. Cassandra ordered first, exactly as Varric recommended but with a bourbon cider to start. She thanked the server and waited for Varric to order as she observed him lightly. Once the man was off, Cassandra stopped tapping her left hand’s fingers on the table. “So… Should we begin our talk now, during the meal, or after?”
Varric watched her tap her fingers for a moment, figuring it was nervous energy. Which meant that making her wait would likely just make it worse. She'd need that drink sooner rather than later, so hopefully the server would be back with it fairly quickly. It'd give her something to hold in her hand, though he supposed she could pick up the flowers again if she needed to. He smiled warmly, or as warmly as he could manage, because he knew a part of him was a bit nervous, too. Only he'd had years of experience controlling it while this was new territory for her. The hardest part, he thought, was wondering if she expected everything to be like romance novels.
He shook his head for a second at his own thoughts, thinking she was smart enough to know the difference between fantasy and real life. Leaning forward, he reached out his hand towards hers, to give her something to hold until the drinks arrived, if she needed it. "No time like the present, Cassandra. Otherwise I think you may drill a few holes in the tabletop."
While Cassandra smiled back, there was a certain anxiety in her that didn’t allow it to reach her eyes. She also hesitated to hold Varric’s hand and instead reached to touch a few of her fingers to his, chuckling nervously when he called out her nervous tapping. She had no real expectations that anything was ever like romance novels, but she did have certain ideals and hopes and so far Varric had exceeded them in a way Cassandra hadn’t thought possible. Reading her poetry, for one. Poetry he had written for her, no less.
“You said… some things. Today.” She began, looking at him but not straight on. “You know I’m not good with nuance, subterfuge, any of that. Or gray areas. But neither do I want to just sit here and ask you what your intentions are with me, that sounds terrible. I… like to be swept off my feet. I like grand gestures and impractical declarations of love. I suspect you know this.”
Cassandra paused while the waiter came back with their drinks, but her mind was set on course. When he left she continued. “Much to my surprise you have been ticking every box. And I don’t think you would go to the trouble if you didn’t want, as Hawke put it, to be officially something. Yes?”
A corner of his mouth had raised a bit when she'd gently touched her fingers to his, because he knew even the smallest indication of affection from Cassandra was huge and not something to take for granted. She'd given him a lot to respond to, but ultimately he decided a lot of it was intended to be rhetorical and that she didn't need confirmations or responses to every little point she'd made. Everything about herself that she'd just admitted were qualities that he liked about her - when a huge part of your life is spent dealing with, as she said 'nuance, subterfuge, and all that,' it's incredibly welcome to have someone in your life who is largely the antithesis of it all.
Instead of giving an immediate, direct answer, he tapped his fingers against hers as well, then picked up his drink. "Do you remember when you first arrived, and you said there was a bit of chatter about me being responsible for your arrival?" Not giving her a chance to respond, he pushed on. "It was true. I think. I'd wished you were here and then you were. It could've been coincidence, but with all the people who showed up, I'm thinking it wasn't. So yeah, Seeker. As much as I like being a pain in your shapely arse, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want something more."
Blinking in surprise, Cassandra tilted her head in reaction to the revelation that she had been right and Varric had had something to do with her arrival here. He had wished for her to be here, enough that she had come along with a number of people who were beloved, long missed family members. It seemed that each week or two Cassandra was discovering how much more she meant to Varric than she had previously thought. She chuckled, shaking her head at the way he had put it.
“I’m sure you can find a way to be both.” She replied. “But you have to know I’m not used to this. I only ever had one other attachment like this and it wasn’t exactly conventional. So this is all quite unfamiliar to me, as I’ve said.”
"Convention is boring," was his easy response. "And if courting you was easy, I promise I'd have a lot less interest." He didn't feel a need to spoil the conversation by saying anything about how he'd been out of practice with 'attachments' too, since he'd pretty much sworn them off after Bianca. Thing was, though, you can stretch your imagination considerably by writing out fictional encounters. Maker, he wasn't sure if even half the stuff he'd come up with for Swords & Shields was physically or emotionally possible, but readers seemed to eat it up all the same.
"Look at it this way," he began, his tone exiting the humor in favor of something a bit more serious. "I'm not going anywhere. If something's uncomfortable or unfamiliar, I'm willing to be there to help get through it in whatever way works best for you. Or not at all, if that's your choice. Either way, I won't feel my efforts have been wasted."
Varric’s responses to Cassandra’s trepidation were definitely to her liking, and set her much more at ease. She snickered and nodded as if to say his preference for the difficult and unusual had been noted. But he got more serious, and so did Cassandra, especially once she heard from him a kind of ease that she once again had not been expecting. He was being exceptionally generous with how much he was willing to compromise to set her at ease, which was to be praised. “You are a good man, Varric. I knew this already obviously but it bears repeating at the moment, I think. I really appreciate what you’re willing to do for me. I hope I’m worthy of it.”
"If I'm a good man, it's because you make me want to be. And if it were a question of worth, it'd be on this end of things," answered Varric, taking a sip of his drink. He really didn't like discussing feelings, even if he knew it was the right time to do so. His thoughts were something he always kept close to his chest, living a life where you tell people what they want to hear. In this case, he didn't feel like that's what he was doing, especially since he hadn't shown up here with any kind of 'what to say' preparation. "You've always been worthy, Cassandra. I just think we're both starting to realize just how much."
Cassandra would like to take credit for Varric’s character but that would be a cruel lie. She shook her head. “You have always been a good man, Varric. Whatever I have said in anger, deep down I’ve always known that. I had nothing to do with it.” And just moments later, this exact thought was echoed back to her by Varric, applied to what she had said. “I don’t know about that, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
With one hand wrapped around the glass, Cassandra took a sip while she moved her other hand to impose her fingers over Varric’s a little more, giving his hand a little squeeze. She wasn’t exactly free of worry or trepidation, but this was certainly helping.
Varric could see server coming out with their salads and sat up in his seat a little. "It's all right, the more you deny it, the more I have to keep trying to prove it to you," he answered, smirking over at her. He knew there was a lot in Cassandra's past that made her doubt herself and, honestly, he originally disliked how it felt that she projected that onto others in her drive to seek out truth. But at the same time, it was part of her core, and you can't just like part of someone if you care about them.
Cassandra snickered in response, keeping quiet as the server delivered their salads except to thank him. She looked down at this dish she hadn’t had before as she reached for the cutlery, letting go of Varric’s hand a little slower than she did her drink in her other hand.
“So… I suppose there is only one thing on my mind, and I- I don’t know if this is unfair to touch upon, tell me if it is. But Bianca…” Cassandra hesitated. “She’s been a constant in your life, if not in person then in your mind, your heart, letters and the crossbow. It’s a heavy connection.”
"That's a closed book," answered Varric, glancing up at Cassandra. He understood why she'd mention that, it was undeniable that Bianca had a huge impact on his life. Even if he wasn't an author and familiar with cliched tropes, he could agree at least with the one about never forgetting your first love. Especially one that was full of drama and strife, but he'd gotten the closure there that he needed. "She's got her work, I've got mine. There'll always be a fondness, but it's nothing more than close friendship. It just took me a while to realize that."
Having tensed up a lot when she had finished asking her question, Cassandra relaxed visibly when Varric even considered replying. She knew Bianca was a sensitive topic, even having been refused an answer on the topic before. Before. Even though Cassandra still had her doubts she didn’t voice them, nodding instead. There was no point in drowning in what-if scenarios, anticipating unhappiness was a sure way to bring it about. There was a good chance Varric wouldn’t make her feel like she lived in Bianca’s shadow even if she were to end up there. “All right. Then I suppose… Let’s have dinner.”