Fenris was well used to these kinds of shenanigans, and let out a soft, amused scoff- a noise that could just as easily been considered a guffaw by his closed friends. On the sliding scale of Fenris amusement sounds.
"If it were left up to Varric, the baron would have turned into a nug and fallen into a nest of miniature mabari."
As a born and bred Fereldan, Relm can't help but smile at the image of miniature mabari. "Talk about the cutest, slobbery-est way to die. If I had to choose a way to die, that would be among my top picks." Of course it would be. Because Relm is incapable of being remotely normal and picking normal kinds of death scenarios.
"He would, and all the more reason not to give him details. There are enough exaggerated stories about me floating around Kirkwall." And one involving a baron could cause problems, as entertaining as it would be.
"It very well shouldn't surprise you. What kind of Fereldan would I be otherwise?" Pretty sure it's as close to blasphemy of Fereldan culture and identity as one could get. And a Marcher noble she now may be, but she's Fereldan through and through.
Relm gasps dramatically. "Fenris! How can you accuse me of such a thing? I in no way, shape, or form contribute to those stories." Well, to be fair, she technically doesn't. She hears about them well after Varric gets them circulating around the city. She just doesn't do much to dispel them, either. In many ways, his exaggerated tales make it easier for her to deal with the people of the city. If someone were to come up to her and recite a story that actually happened, she would find herself at a loss.
His little smile brings out one of her own. Not one of the ones she tosses out easily, but a genuine one. She likes making him smile. For all that he's good at brooding, she thinks smiling suits him the most.
"Encourage them?" Her head tilts to the side curiously. A few guesses roll around in her mind, but even still, she asks, "How so?"
"Flattery will get you everywhere," she says with a chuckle before taking her own drink. She almost adds 'including people's pants' but refrains, only because she doesn't want to seem too... obvious. Stupid feelings, making her self-conscious. "You know, I honestly hear most of the stories well after Varric's originally spun them. By the time they get to me they've taken on a life of their own. I mean, I could encourage them but they spread well enough on their own." A pause, and then she snickers. "Once or twice I was tempted to try and spread an actual true story and see if it gained any traction."
Her skill with subtlety is a glittering jewel in all of Thedas. Many travel form far and wide, just to be able to bask in its glow. He'd likely be flustered himself, if he caught up with all the intentions behind her words.
"And has it? Or does Varric's ability as a wordsmith eclipse the actual truth?"
"Can't say I ever followed through on those temptations, sadly. Varric might think I'm trying to put him out of business, so to speak." Most of his versions are a lot more entertaining anyway. "I have a hunch his would win out anyway. He's got that way with words. I swear, if he weren't a dwarf I'd think he was a tricky mage who's good at casting spells over people's minds." Like the lovely 'apostitute' they came across in the Blooming Rose, except less pretty and with more chest hair.
The joke surprises her a little, but then again, the absurdity of it likely outweighs everything else. Still, it's nice to hear him joking about mages, even as outlandish of a scenario as a dwarf being one.
"Exactly. Though you know..." There's a mischievous smile that stretches across her face, one Fenris has probably seen one too many times. "Might be fun to return the favor and spread a few ridiculous stories about him."
"Oooh good question." Varric doesn't often lend himself much to such things. Most of the insanity he encounters stem from being in proximity to Hawke. "It's rather frustrating how good he is at avoiding the absurd situations that lend themselves to good stories."
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aww heck YES
"If it were left up to Varric, the baron would have turned into a nug and fallen into a nest of miniature mabari."
Probably not that ridiculous, but close enough.
"He'd have a bestseller."
8Db
"He would, and all the more reason not to give him details. There are enough exaggerated stories about me floating around Kirkwall." And one involving a baron could cause problems, as entertaining as it would be.
10000 years later
His tone is, at least joking. Or as close to joking as Fenris can get, anyway.
"And I'm certain you don't encourage there stories at all?"
He's pretty damn sure it's the opposite of that, Missy Miss.
and another 5000 years later
Relm gasps dramatically. "Fenris! How can you accuse me of such a thing? I in no way, shape, or form contribute to those stories." Well, to be fair, she technically doesn't. She hears about them well after Varric gets them circulating around the city. She just doesn't do much to dispel them, either. In many ways, his exaggerated tales make it easier for her to deal with the people of the city. If someone were to come up to her and recite a story that actually happened, she would find herself at a loss.
womp womp
He smiles against his glass, just his lips upturned ever so slightly. A subtle move, but absolutely there.
"Perhaps, but I would say you certainly encourage them in your own...unique way."
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"Encourage them?" Her head tilts to the side curiously. A few guesses roll around in her mind, but even still, she asks, "How so?"
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"With your rapier wit, I shouldn't wonder. That's how you usually encourage people to do things."
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"And has it? Or does Varric's ability as a wordsmith eclipse the actual truth?"
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It says a lot, for how far Fenris has come that he can joke about mages.
"But true, best you don't treat on his toes"
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"Exactly. Though you know..." There's a mischievous smile that stretches across her face, one Fenris has probably seen one too many times. "Might be fun to return the favor and spread a few ridiculous stories about him."
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"Oh? Did you have some particular tales in mind?"
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