Helen Magnus (britishcharm) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2012-09-05 21:36:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, helen magnus, varric tethras |
"You'd make any dw-man stare."
Who: Helen and Varric
What: Celebrating Helen’s Birthday
When: August 27
Where: New York
Status: Complete!
Rating: PG? No higher than PG-13. I think even Varric behaved, this time.
As afraid as she had been to take this step, she had to admit she was enjoying their trip. She couldn’t remember the last time she felt so comfortable in her own skin. There was a certain contentment in being with him, knowing he was hers.
She studied her reflection, smoothing a hand over the front of her dress. It wasn’t that she never dressed with the opinions of others in mind, but she hadn’t dressed for someone significant in some time. And rarely for reasons that weren’t professional. It was younger than she was accustomed to dressing, but it somehow felt right. She knew his interest wasn’t reliant on her clothing choices; that didn’t mean she wouldn’t fuss.
The shows had been the best. Or perhaps it was exploring the different parts of the city, especially the out of the way places he'd taken her. Any city has places the locals frequent. The genuine, honest bars and shops and restaurants that he preferred to the expensive places or the places that put on airs for tourists. Tonight, he was taking her to dinner at a nice restaurant that still fell into that criteria. It also served an absolutely to die for soup.
More importantly, it was well known for it's bakery.
He stepped out of the bedroom of their suite - he always liked a nice suite - and smiled at her. He walked over and slid his arms around her waist, "You look fantastic."
Her smile was immediate as she leaned into his hold, her hand covering his. “You’re certain I shouldn’t change?”
"No. No need to change." He kissed her shoulder, smiling in open delight, "You'd make any dw-man stare." Oops. He’d almost said ‘dwarf.’
She let the slip pass without comment. She wasn’t unaware of the dreams, and while she was less than accepting of hers, she didn’t expect the same of him. They seemed as much a part of his identity as anything else, and in the time they had been together, she’d learned to appreciate that.
“I’m only concerned with the opinion of one.”
"We'll never get anywhere," Varric commented with with mock lecherism. He wagged his eyebrows at her via the mirror. "Not that we're in all that much of a rush right now."
“You’re incorrigible.” She didn’t entirely mind, though, and her laugh said as much.
"You should stop encouraging me." He pulled away, giving her space and time to further fuss over hair and make up. He was wearing a colorful polo shirt with the top 3 buttons unbuttoned and a pair of black slacks.
It was several minutes more before she dragged herself away from the mirror, settling for minimal makeup and leaving her hair to curl naturally. Turning back to him, she absently brushed a hand over his shoulder, straightening the material before leaning in to kiss him.
“I enjoy encouraging you.”
"And I enjoy encouraging you." He brought a hand up to brush her cheek. She was being open, and not skittish at all, so he intended to enjoy this. She really had opened up since he first met her in that tea house four months ago.
Had it really been only four months?
“In more ways than one, it would seem.”
She had always intended to hold him at a distance, but little by little, he had slipped past her defenses. Then, he had begun dismantling those defenses entirely. There were still moments when she was afraid, but they were growing less frequent. Slowly, she was learning to trust the world again.
In another world, Varric was very good at slipping past defenses. Disabling traps and picking locks and charming or lying his way into business arrangements. While there was certainly some charm with regards to Helen, he had never actually lied.
"I can't help it, you're such easy prey."
"Am I?"
"Oh yes. You have such tight defenses that the chinks in your armor are more obvious." It was an off-handed, joking comment, and he sat down on a love seat to watch her as they talked.
She wasn't quite certain how to respond to that, feeling suddenly vulnerable again.
Finally, quietly, "And I was under the impression that I let you in."
"Well that was the largest chink," Varric replied easily, holding his hand out to her. "It wasn't easy to convince you to let me in, you realize. But I'm stubborn, and it was worth the effort."
The hesitance, at least, seemed content not to make an appearance, and she took his hand, sitting next to him and easily curling up against his side.
“Thank you for not giving up.”
Varric put an arm around her shoulder and smiled, "You know how I like to meet and befriend interesting people, and you were, and are interesting. And creative, which is always a plus. You should try your hand at telling a story."
“As I recall, I already did.” Of course, it had been based in reality and was hardly creative. But details. “I’m much more suited to illustration.”
"One can tell a story through pictures. In some ways with greater ease and more impact than any series of sentences." Varric didn't seem put out by this observation. A true one, especially in today's world. How many pictures had been taken over the last hundred years that still felt like a punch in the gut or a strike to the heart? How many paintings over the centuries still evoke emotion?
“My story isn’t ready to be told,” she answered softly, ignoring the fact that she had already shared much of it with him. Shifting she pulled him in for another chaste kiss, appreciating how natural it felt to be with him like this. “I believe I’ll leave the storytelling to you.”
"Some day," He said cheerfully. "I'll listen and you'll speak. But I'm happy with the current arrangement. Ready to go? I can call a cab." Varric wasn't in a hurry, but he was starting to get hungry.
She nodded, kissing his cheek before pulling back again with a small smile. “Make your call. Otherwise, I might be tempted to keep you here.”
While that was a great temptation, Varric managed to resist it, calling for a cab and then funneling her off to the restaurant. As promised it was a cozy place, out of the way for most tourists, with a friendly staff and warm atmosphere. They arrived just in time for their reservation.
For a woman who had been so shy of social interaction such a short while ago, she was surprisingly comfortable in this new setting, if she did stay closer to him than might have been entirely necessary.
“It’s lovely.”
Seated, Varric took a look at the menu, and ordered some wine, "You've always reminded me of it, so I jumped at the chance to take you."
Smiling, she reached for his hand. “I’m flattered.”
Eyes gleaming, he explained, "Warm, inviting, with an air of mystery and depth that couldn't be ignored."
It was ridiculous how easily he could make her blush. She was only just learning to see those qualities in herself.
“I fail to see the connection.”
"You're warm, inviting, and possessing a mystery and depth can't can't be ignored," Varric said, a soft smile on his face. "At least when you open up."
“I don’t believe you.” Her smile suggested that might not be entirely true. “But I like hearing you say it.”
She turned her attention to her menu, studying it quietly, but she didn’t release his hand. “Any recommendations?”
"The house soup." Varric didn't hesitate, "You have to have the house soup. Entrees are wonderful but the soup...I could write erotic stories about the soup."
“You mean you haven’t already?”
She firmly believed he could write erotic stories about nearly anything, if he sought to try, but she kept that information to herself for the moment.
He had. One just needed to look to find it. He went ahead and ordered the soup for both of them, "I'm fond of the red meat here. And the poultry. The fish is pretty good too."
“Perhaps you could narrow the choices?”
Varric laughed, as if her response was particularly amusing to him. Not in a mocking way, "We'll get the roast."
“Excellent.”
She tilted her head slightly, watching him, and she couldn’t help but smile. His apparent enthusiasm for this place was contagious.
“I believe this trip has been good for me.”
Varric nodded his head, picking up his glass of wine and taking a sip, "You've got more color to your cheeks, and you smile a lot more easily around other people. And in New York of all places."
“I have you to thank for that.”
"No." He shook his head, "You have yourself to thank for that."
"Because I had your support."
He had quickly become her source of strength, her safety net. While he had come to mean far more to her, those qualities had remained, lessening her fears and restoring her confidence.
She was under no illusions that she could have come this far without him.
"Even the greatest hero requires pillars of support, Helen," He replied, agreeing with her and at the same time taking away any sting she might feel at not being able to do it alone, "And I'm not the only one."
She gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "No. But you are the most unexpected."
Certainly Ashley and James had shared a role in drawing her out of her shell, but he had been the one to truly convince her to open up again. He'd had no obligation, no reason to invest his time in her, yet he had stayed.
Varric grinned at her, her comment seeming to have struck something pleasant within him, "Happy birthday, Helen."
He lifted his glass in toast to her, "And let there be many more."
“I hope they’ll be shared.”
"When you put it that way, how can I say no?"
She felt something like relief at that. Despite her faith in him, she could still have doubts about her place in his life, the level of commitment she was allowed to ask of him. Each time he confirmed she hadn’t crossed that line seemed like a small victory.
“I was hoping you wouldn’t.” She smiled, brushing her thumb across his knuckles. Then after a moment of apparent indecision, “I’d like you to meet James.”
Varric raised his eyebrow at that. James? “You do?” He could hear Bianca wanting to pierce him, now. Was that jealousy?
She nodded, uncertain again. How did she explain James, the way he fit into her life?
"You've met my daughter. I think it's time you met my closest friend, as well."
“Fair enough,” Varric replied. How could he say no? In Kirkwall, he dealt with murderers, thieves and brigands, and then he also dealt with some really terrible people, too. He could deal with Helen’s friends.
"He worries I've been keeping you from him." And if she were honest, perhaps she had been. She had been hesitant to speak of their relationship, afraid that drawing too much attention to it might cause it to collapse.
"Have you?" Varric couldn't help but ask.
There was a brief hesitation before she answered, and she unconsciously tightened her fingers around his. "Would you be disappointed if I said I have?"
Varric shook his head, “No, I wouldn’t, not really. I understand that selfish need to keep something to oneself.”
"I was being cautious." But she no longer felt that caution necessary.
"I'm afraid he can be as protective as Ashley. Though I suspect he'll use fewer threats of violence."
“That’s fortunate.” Varric settled back a bit as the soup arrived, “I’m so used to threats of violence that I could use a change of pace!”
She smiled, squeezing his hand again before reclaiming it and turning her attention to the soup. Pausing, she glanced up again, caught between wanting to assure him James was hardly a threat to his place in her life and wanting him to understand how important he was to her.
“James is my oldest and dearest friend. He’ll be as happy for us as Ashley is.”
"I believe you," Varric replied. His was a quick burning sort of jealousy, over almost as soon as it had begun. There wasn't a problem with her having male friends, even close ones. He knew when he felt irrational. After all, he had female friends.
Another nod. She would still feel better once they had met; it was important to her that they were comfortable with one another.
“Then, perhaps you’ll introduce me to your Champion?”
Helen, on the other hand, saw no reason to be jealous of his other relationships. She trusted him, trusted that he was hers. And she didn’t mind sharing him with Bianca.
That hardly meant she wasn’t curious.
"Hawke can be smartmouthed," Varric warned good-naturedly. "Stubborn, determined, loyal and above all caring. I think you'll like her. Her sister Sunshine is the sweetest thing alive, too."
“I look forward to meeting them.”
There were others in Hawke's 'family' of course. Aveline and Fenris and others, each with their own quirks and behaviours.
"She runs a comedy club. Might be a safe place to meet."
She likely would have met them anywhere he suggested, but she appreciated his consideration. This counted as one of those important steps in their relationship that she was willing to take, whether it fell within her comfort zone or not.
“That sounds lovely. I’m anxious to meet this woman you’re so fond of.”
He wasn't sure if comedy would fit her comfort zone, actually. Expecially the kind of ribald humor some of them enjoyed. She hadn't been chased away by that yet, to her credit, and who knew. Maybe it will help her open up even more.
"Just had to warn you, is all," He replied with a wink.
“I appreciate that.” She would be lying if she said she wasn’t nervous, even if she logically had no reason to be. She hoped his family would accept her, just as she hoped Ashley and James accepted him.
"After all, dealing with the Champion is not unlike dealing with a small typhoon!" With a laugh, Varric sampled his soup and made an approving groan. "This was worth the trip alone."
That certainly didn’t lessen her uneasiness, but she couldn’t suppress the smile as his attention was diverted by the soup. Little moments like this reminded her of why she fell in love with him. She might have been staring again.
“I agree.”
"How can you agree if you've not touched your soup yet," Varric teased.
“I wasn’t talking about the soup.”
"Touche, my dear." Varric laughed, giving her a happy smile. He liked it when she won.
Smiling, she trailed her fingers lightly over his arm. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”
"Breathed," He replied. Varric gave her a wink.
She shook her head, smiling. “You could have chosen anyone. Why me?”
"Maybe I didn't choose you," Varric replied, twirling his spoon in the air. "Maybe it was meant to be."
" Is that what you truly believe?"
"I've never believed in fate, Helen, but sometimes the heart wants what it wants. That's not fate or destiny, but it is not having a choice." He gave her another wink, "Or perhaps I just didn't want anything else."
It was enough of an answer, for now, if it might not necessarily keep her from revisiting the subject in the future. She slid her fingers through his, giving his hand a light squeeze. “I have exactly what I want.”
"I'll have to live up to expectations. So when I meet your friend, I should keep Bianca in the car, yes?"
“I can warn him, if you’d like.” She wanted to avoid another incident like the one with Ashley, but she wanted the option to be his.
"Oh, no." Varric leaned forward, eyes glinting. "It's hardly fair to warn him. How is that any fun?"
She leaned in as well, smiling as she brushed her thumb across his cheek. “I believe you’re far too interested in his reaction.”
"No. Me?" Varric put a hand to his chest in mock distress, "Why ever would you say that?"
She simply smiled, settling back in her seat. “I can at least assure you he doesn’t carry a gun.”
"Bianca can beat any gun," Varric assured her, teasingly. It was then that the food arrived, and he concentrated on that for a time.
“I would prefer your first meeting didn’t result in injury.” There was a definite hint of amusement underscoring her words as she turned to her own meal.
"You wouldn't have liked Kirkwall, then," Varric replied, a grin sweeping his features as he cut at his food. "Most first meetings result in injury."
“Then it’s fortunate we’re not in Kirkwall.”
You have no idea, Varric thought. He didn't think Helen was too weak for Kirkwall. Quite the opposite.
He feared that Helen would not be Helen in Kirkwall. Someone different, someone harder certainly, or even more superficial. He wouldn't want either of those Helens.
She wasn’t the same woman in the world she dreamed about either, but that concerned her less than the knowledge that he did not share that world with her. If they had been in any world other than this one, she wouldn’t have known him at all.
That wasn’t a world she wanted to be in.
"I hope you never know of Kirkwall," He said, finally, after a long silence.
“I know you.”
“I’m not Kirkwall. Mostly.”
“But you’re a part of it.”
“It’s where I’m from,” He replied. “I suppose that’s part of it.”
She found his hand again, holding on tightly. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I love you, Helen.”
“I love you, too.”
There was no hesitation, no silent consideration. Not this time. She no longer held doubts about her feelings toward him, nor did she feel it necessary to deny them.
"What say we finish eating so you can unwrap your real birthday present."
She nodded, reluctantly releasing his hand to continue eating. The food was as excellent as he had promised, and for once, she actually finished her meal.
“You chose well. Again.”
"Next time you should choose." He wanted to see what she would pick.
“Perhaps I will.” She reached for his hand again. “Ready?”
Varric took her hand, “Ready.” He had something else planned for her birthday. A show, and it should already be waiting in their hotel room.
She was quite looking forward to the rest of their evening.