And it's the stars, the stars that lie to you.

[neverheardofhim]

[This week, Varric opted to take a page from Vanille’s book. Gathering everyone together after the roller-coaster that the first trial had been proved to be somewhat cathartic for himself. He hoped that it would prove to do the same for the others.]

[He wasn’t alone, of course, having found himself blessed with the most ragtag team of chefs and party-planners. He might have had words for and thoughts on Elda and Kimbley, Mikazuki was welcome company, and he wasn’t about to turn away potential allies, even in a fight as simple as cooking dinner.]

[Once everyone’s set to a task, baking a cake, brewing tea, or stirring stew (the only task Varric could think to assign Elda to), Varric excused himself to his room. His first task was writing up cards, each personally titled and signed by Varric.]

Food in the Library. 5 p.m. Don’t spend the night alone.

[Each note was slid under a door and accompanied by a single rap on the wood.]

[With his tasks completed, Varric returned to the kitchen to put out any potential fires and, with luck, set the food out. A table in the library would be adorned with plenty of tea, cake, pancakes courtesy of Viktor, and stew thanks mostly to Varric (sorry, Elda).]

Comments

[neverheardofhim]

[That sure made his fingers itch. But he was meant to be the peacekeeper, especially here and now. Still, it does manage to get a rise out of him vocally. ]

What the hell is your problem, Fang?

[matchbreaker]

[ Hah, of course he won't say it. She doesn't laugh or get haughty - doesn't rally freak out - she just lashes out, her words venom ]

You have no right to tell me to say that as long as you're going to think fondly of that woman! Of course I know he's not done a lot to prove his power or willingness to answer that, but she acted on it!

[neverheardofhim]

At least she had a decent goal in mind. What were you going to do, wish your daughter-in-law out of existence? [Varric scoffed.] Taking a risk for a million lives. Fine. But to hell with your own selfishness.

[Awfully... presumptuous there, Varric.]

[matchbreaker]

[ Elda snaps.

It's entirely different than with Silver though - it's not a mad fury, it's instead a cold, vicious thing. Her eyes turn cat-like and then seem to spiral in her head and in one quick, fluid, and surprisingly strong movement, she brings a hand to Varric's throat. Or at least she intends to. Even if she doesn't manage that, she'll still be shoving him into the bookcases behind him. ]

To hell with you, Varric Tethras.

[neverheardofhim]

[Varric made no effort to move out of the way. If she was going to take him out here, then he was content to let it happen. Her lashing out had proven his point, at least as far as he was concerned. She was unstable, a threat. And if she was going to kill, it would be better that it happened in front of everyone.]

[Better that she be tried and put to death because of him, then because of someone like Vanille.]

[He met her gaze defiantly, eyes narrowed. Nevertheless, his heart leapt into his throat. Mentally, he might have been willing to die, but physically, fight or flight was on the verge of kicking in.]

Do it, Marker. Prove me right.

[matchbreaker]

[ She holds him against the shelves by the throat. Her eyes are filled with an old, old hatred, one which burns into the eyes of anyone who sees it. The malice she gives off is perhaps greater than anyone's ever felt from her, in this university. And she... ]

Did you ever think that fish girl was a liar? [ Because if Wordsmith was, who's to say she wasn't ]

But you know what, Tethras, let me tell you a story. My people were killed. Some mongreloid halfbreed decided that their lot in life was too bad for them to handle and sold us out to the church. Houses were burned and families had stakes pushed through their hearts. In days, the damned humans killed off most of the vampires in Europe - and I only escaped because my dear, beloved James whisked me out just in time to miss them cutting off my father's head. Those of us who survived that slaughter had to flee our homes, leave behind out families and our ancestors and settle in some far flung boonie. And all because some wretch thought that they would get a better deal by putting their faith in the Inquisition's damned God than their own parents.

[ She lets go of his neck, but then intends to hit him in the stomach, as hard as she can muster. And with her fury sated, she intends to then just walk away. She doesn't feel the need to spill more of her life, or to say some cool parting like or anything. No, she's...

Disappointed. She thought better of him.]

[neverheardofhim]

[Guilt and regret hit him like a druffalo. He knew he'd been wrong to assume so much cruelty of her, but in the wake of the trial, with everything she was saying about Alani.]

[He'd been a hypocrite, to spurn her and venerate the dead girl. Especially when Elda had been smart enough to know better, with just as much weight on her shoulders. He could have argued numbers, could have argued that her people were less deserving of saving, but again, it was all assumptions. And the fact that she said families...]

[He swallowed hard.]

[When Elda swung, he made no effort to move away, instead taking the blow full-force. It crippled him, sent him onto a knee, but it was better that way. He didn't want to look at her, didn't want to face the fact that he'd been so caught up in his self-righteousness that he'd condemned her.]

[Cassandra had been right. He only thought of himself.]

[He tasted apologies on his tongue, but bit them back. He knew Elda well enough to know she wouldn't listen.]