The Maker Laughs at Plans

Written for the 2022 Handers Gift Exchange on AO3 for monsterthalia. Please be aware that this story contains mature language.

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"You might wanna sit down for this, Junior."

Carver exhales and raises his eyebrows at Varric. "Dwarf, please. I've seen enough shit to fill twenty of your novels, and that was before I ended up with this bloody glowy piece-of-shit hand." He waves said hand around a little for effect, and is mildly gratified when Varric looks chagrined.

"Alright, alright," Varric shrugs and shakes his head. "So... you know I have this contact."

"We've all heard about your contacts..."

"Yeah, well... this one... it's a little different," Varric looks around, suddenly furtive, and Carver narrows his eyes.

"What?" he asks suspiciously. "Who is it?"

Varric shrugs again and tries a laugh. But when Carver just continues to look at him, he licks his lips and looks away. "It's Garrett, alright? And... and you know... uh... he's bringing..."

"Oh no. Oh fuck, Varric... no. Not... not him. He's bringing Anders? Here?" Carver takes two steps toward Varric, his boots crunching in the snow outside the stables, and clenches his fists to remind himself that he won't punch Varric in the face, not now, not here. Use your words, he can hear his mother's frustrated voice in his head, and he swallows hard and forces his shoulders to relax.

"Alright," he says slowly, grinding the word out. "Alright. If... if Blondie is coming with him... then..." He exhales hard. "Varric, help me out. We gotta think of a fucking story for Cassandra... fuck. And Cullen! Cullen was there, in Kirkwall, he's gonna..."

"You think I haven't thought of this?" Varric hisses. He takes a deep breath and sighs it out, making a fog which dissipates into the cold air. "I know. It's a shit-show. But Hawke's not gonna leave Blondie behind, and I can't ask him to. Could you?"

Carver takes a moment to imagine it, and sighs. "No," he says reluctantly. "Those bastards. They love each other so much. And they've been through too much shit to be apart. Those bloody bastards."

Varric laughs a little. "Yeah," he sighs. Then he narrows his eyes. "You know... that might be an idea." He smiles a little at Carver, and cocks his head. "You know, one of the things about those Kirkwall years was... there was a lot of misdirection going on. Blind 'em with a lot of flash, you know?"

"Dwarf, I have no fucking idea," Carver says tiredly, but Varric just grins more broadly.

"Yeah, no, listen," he says. "What if... what if it's not just Blondie? What if... it's everyone. You're still in touch with Merrill, yeah? And Aveline?"

"Yeah..." Carver says slowly, still not feeling as if he's getting it.

"Write 'em," Varric says. "Tell them the Inquisition needs them, I don't know, kid, sell them a story. Get 'em to come to Skyhold. I'll talk to Isabela, and you know she'll talk to Fenris, if we can get a hold of him. Everyone loves your brother, and Blondie too, no matter what he might tell himself. They'll come."

Carver snorts a laugh. "You think?" he says, but he's already grinning.

"You got any better ideas?" Varric asks, returning Carver's grin. "Come on, kid. We got letters to write."

Dear Inquisitor,

Thank you for your letter. Kirkwall is a different city from the one you left, but it still needs managing. The citizen's militia are well trained, though still citizens first, and while I've managed to do what I can and put good people in charge, it's still a big task.