Chapter Text
Cassandra gave his shoulder a hard shove with her own as she squirmed into place on her bedroll. "Move over, Varric."
"Move over to where?" He sniped back at her. "I am as far over as I can get. Any farther over and I'd be officially outside of the damn tent."
She glared at him. "You're a dwarf. You are small. You should not take up so much space."
"I'm short." He said flatly. "There's a difference. Not sure if you've noticed but we have a tendency to make up for our height with width. If my shoulders aren't dainty enough for you then roll over onto your side."
"I should not have to -" The Seeker cut herself off. It was useless arguing with him. She let out an angry growl, turning onto her side, her back to him. She clung to the edge of her mat, scowling at the crossbow that now sat directly in front of her face. She grabbed it, twisting to face him as she dropped it onto his chest. The impact drove a surprised grunt from him as he frowned. "Move your weapon onto your side." She demanded. "I do not want it in my face as I sleep."
"You should really play nice, Seeker." Varric said dryly. "Bianca doesn't like being manhandled."
"The way you personify your crossbow is no longer cute, dwarf."
He peered at her curiously. "Does that mean you thought it was cute before?"
Cassandra's scowl deepened, her eyes narrowing. She rolled over again. "Shut up, Varric."
An awkward silence fell as she glared at the canvas in front of her. "If this shows up in one of your books, I swear to-"
"Trust me, Seeker." He said, cutting her off. "I wouldn't want to relive this moment long enough to write about it."
They both grew quiet. Cassandra closed her eyes, trying to force herself to rest. Sleep did not come easily but slowly, ever so slowly, she began to feel heavier. The muscles in her face relaxed. Her awareness of the space around her began to drift away and she knew the comfortable sinking feeling of leaving the waking world was within her grasp.
Then he began to snore.
Cassandra opened her eyes wide with rage.
You must be joking.
***
She groaned as the pain in her neck suddenly flooded her consciousness, her eyes fluttering open. Daylight, albeit still dim, crept in underneath the edge of the canvas wall in front of her. Her mood soured as she heard the now all-too familiar rhythmic snores rumbling gently behind her. The dwarf had been snoring all night and no amount of kicking or prodding had solved the issue. He would wake, object to the interruption, only to start up again as soon as he fell back into a deep sleep.
It had been, by far, the worst night of sleep Cassandra could recall ever having.
She tried to shift her body but was surprised to find her movement impeded. She glanced down, sneering as she found Varric's arm slung over her side, his hand dangling near her stomach. She gripped two of his fingers tightly, giving them a sharp twist.
At least that stopped the snoring.
Varric cursed, pulling his hand away as he yelped. "What in the Void is wrong with you, woman?"
"It is time to get up." Cassandra said stiffly. Causing him pain had been a petty cruelty. Something that she normally would not condone.
But Maker's Breath did it feel satisfying.