"Do you have feelings for him?" Who: Helen & Varric What: Helen has a confession to make. When: Last Thursday-ish. Where: Helen's house. Rating: PG-ish? Status: Complete!
Her last encounter with Nikola had left her unsettled. She knew she was pulling away again, growing more distant. She also knew she owed Varric more than that. He deserved the truth.
But how could she explain to him what she didn’t fully understand herself? What might he think of her?
She had kissed another man. Someone she had known before her marriage to John. Someone she’d considered closer than family. Someone she had been willing to share everything with.
How could she tell him it had meant nothing? When she knew it had meant something, even if she hadn’t yet decided what that something was.
Absently biting her lip, she slid further into the corner of the sofa, trying to make herself small.
Varric's mood had been pretty good. With Merrill and Frodo's wedding and the reception, and his own part in marrying Daisy off, he felt content. That didn't mean he was entirely distracted or didn't notice Helen withdrawing into herself. He was writing, occasionally glancing up at her.
He raised an eyebrow at the couch sinking, but said nothing.
She glanced up at him, shifting uncomfortably and looking away again when she realized he was watching her.
"How is it coming?" she ventured softly, vaguely nodding toward his notepad.
"It's coming," he replied, smiling at her. "In fits and starts. I have some plans so it won't be too much of a problem, I think. Are you all right?"
Her smile was just a little too forced as she nodded. “Of course.”
That was a tell if ever there was one. Varric set the notepad aside, sliding across the couch until he was next to her. He said nothing, merely rested his hand on her knee.
She held her breath, eying the hand on her knee. Was it possible he already knew? Closing her eyes in a desperate attempt not to cry, she exhaled slowly, blindly reaching for his hand, grasping it tightly.
He had no idea, of course. He wasn't psychic, but he could read people fairly easily. What Varric could tell appeared to be distress, even guilt. He squeezed her hand back. "Whatever's wrong, Rabbit, it's okay to tell me."
She shook her head, furiously swiping at her cheeks, but she shifted closer anyway, settling against him and tugging his arm around her waist.
Varric sighed lightly, rubbing his hand up and down at her waist. She was being stubborn, but he was used to that. Dealing with stubborn women seemed to be his calling. "It's not the end of the world."
That much, at least, she could agree with, but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be the end of them. She couldn’t lose him. Not now. Not like this. She was so afraid of what he might think. So afraid of hurting him in the same way she had already hurt Nikola.
She let his touch soothe her, trying to ignore the ache in her chest.
“I kissed Nikola.” She fell quiet again, drawing further into herself as she tried very hard not to look at him. “I wanted to kiss him again.”
She'd kissed Nikola? Varric hadn't actually expected ... anything like that, really. His hand stopped rubbing at her waist as he processed that information. Betrayal wasn't something he was particularly fond of, but that could be traced to his brother. Who was a nug-humper and a jackass. Of which Helen was neither.
This was a different sort of hurt. Bartrand had only stolen an artifact and left him to die in the Deep Roads, surrounded by Darkspawn and demons and all manner of terrible creatures. You know. Merchant's guild type business.
This was a different matter entirely.
He frowned.
His silence was enough to start tears falling again. “I hurt him.”
"You hurt him?"
She flinched, his words stinging. She had hurt them both. And she didn’t know how to fix it, how to make things right again.
“A long time ago,” she murmured, almost inaudibly.
"Let me get this straight...You hurt him a long time ago, so you kissed him?" Varric shook his head, unsure just exactly what he was hearing. "Maybe you need to start at the beginning."
She shifted uneasily again, finally whispering, “He seemed sad.”
"A pat on the back and a hug wouldn't do?" Varric asked, a little incredulously. "Do you have feelings for him?"
"Not in the way he had hoped."
Varric pulled his arm back, shifting on the couch to better look at her. "It's one thing to joke, or look, or tease. It's another to act on those urges and feelings."
She looked at him then, her tone pleading. "It was a kiss."
It wasn't something she had planned, and it wasn't something she was proud of having done. Yet, she couldn't convince herself she regretted kissing Nikola. Perhaps she had needed to kiss him as much as she felt he needed to be kissed.
"And kisses lead to other things. I've written enough stories about that to know, I've witnessed enough stories like that to know." Varric didn't raise his voice. Oh, he was more than capable of doing so, except he never did with Rabbit, and he wouldn't start now.
“It didn’t.”
"Could it have?"
“In another time? Perhaps. But we aren’t the same people.”
Varric sighed, settling back on the couch and closing his eyes for a moment. Then he opened them, and stood. "I think I need to take the dogs for a walk."
He glanced at her. "I'll be back, I promise."
She fought the urge to cling to him, pressing her lips together and nodding.
Varric glanced at her, then grabbed his coat and the leashes.
She watched him intently, hugging herself. The ‘I love you’ caught somewhere in the back of her throat, no longer certain it would be returned.
“I’m sorry.”
Varric got the leashes onto the collars of the greyhounds. "I know." Then he was out the door, to think, and be dragged around by a pair of excited dogs.