They say you can never go home again.

They also say never start a story with a cheesy, worn out cliche, but if the shoe fits...

I don't know what I expected. It sounded great in my head. Go back to Kirkwall. Go home and help clean up this big dirty mess I had a hand in creating. I know what Hawke would say. It's not your fault, Varric. You had nothing to do with it. Bartrand made his choice, as did Meredith. They are the reason the red lyrium got out, nothing could have stopped it.

But still. I was there. I could have done more.

Of course, none of that matters now. The past is passed. It's time to focus on the now, which is still pretty fouled up.

Getting into Kirkwall was no small feat, either. It took far too much coin and cashing in far too many favors. I even accepted some help from the Inquisitor, though after I got the full picture of everything that happened, after what the Inquisition did in Kirkwall... I was hesitant to accept it.

The ends justify the means, right, Herald?

The Kirkwall docks smell the same at least. Dead fish, fresh pitch, and stale vomit. A whiff of home. But everything else is different. The docks should be teeming with people this early in the day, bringing in the day's catch and the latest trade. But the ship from Orlais simply dropped me off and was just as eager to leave.

This is a city teetering on the edge. And here I am, thinking I can do a damn thing to save it. One man with some connections, some coin, and one very special crossbow.

Shit. I don't even know where to begin. On instinct, my head turns to the direction of the Hanged Man. If my favorite tavern is still here, there might be some hope for this hell hole. My steps hesitate and I shift the weight of my pack on my back.

I've got this feeling I'm forgetting something. Is it shaving? I haven't shaved in a few days. A straight razor and a rocking boat make me a bit nervous. I almost look like a genuine Orzammar dwarf. The pace this thing is growing in, it'll be long enough to braid by sunset.

No, that's not it. What am I forgetting...?

"There's so much here..." It's a faint voice. Distant and dreamy. I glance over my shoulder to see a skinny blond human, just a kid, standing a few yards from me, wringing his hands and staring up at the cloud filled sky. His head turns and we meet eyes.

Who-... I wince at myself. "Kid." Cole. Dammit.

He lifts his chin slightly, and the ghost of a smile appears on his pale face. "You remember."

Did I bring him along? I don't remember. I don't think so. No. No, I didn't. "Kid, I thought you were going to stay in Skyhold."

Cole shakes his head, shuffling steps taking him closer to me. "You said that I had freedom now. You said that I could do whatever I wanted to. And I said-"

"That you wanted to help," I say in an exhale.

I was packing up my things. Not a lot of things, I travel light. And the kid just appeared, like he does.

"You're leaving, Varric," he'd said, perched on the edge of a dresser with his feet dangled over the edge and his heels idly kicking the drawers.

"Yeah, Kid, I'm leaving," I said.

"Solas is gone, too."

"Yeah, I know."

"You think... that there isn't anything more you can do to help here."

I twisted my lips to the side and turned back to the dresser to fish out a pair of socks Daisy knitted for me. "I think I could be of more help in Kirkwall. I only joined the Inquisition because-"

"Because you were kidnapped," the kid said. He sounded proud of himself for remembering.

"Yes," I answered slowly. "And because it was something of an immediate threat. Look, Kirkwall is my home. I feel like I've abandoned it. It needs a lot of help."

"Solas is gone, too."

I lifted my head and squinted my eyes at him. His head was tilted so that his broad brimmed hat hid his eyes. "What are you getting at, Kid?"

"The Iron Bull thinks that I am a demon. Sera has to remember to call me 'it,' but she prefers to. Blackwall is to join the Wardens. Dorian is to return to Tevinter. Vivenne wants the Circle unbroken. The Inquisitor... the Inquisition, the inner circle, thin, thinner, thinking, working, forgetting. Who is that boy?"

I let out a long sigh. I think I caught what he was going for before he trailed off into spiritese. "You don't think you have any friends, and you don't know what to do with yourself."

His brim lifted a fraction, and his pale gaze met mine. "What I do is help people."

I pressed my lips together, watching him. "What you can do now is whatever you want."

"But I want to help people."

"Kid..." I stuffed the socks into my satchel and turned to face him. "You're free to do absolutely anything. You can afford to be a little selfish. Travel. Meet people. Make new friends. Eat things. Play."

Those pale, hollow eyes remained fixed on me, uncomprehending. I should have fought harder to make the kid human.

I crossed my arms and levelled a look at him. "Cole, what I want you to do is try all sorts of new things and see what makes you happy, then keep doing that. Can you promise me that?"

Those unblinking eyes remained on me a few moments more, before he dropped his head and his face was hidden by his hat brim again. "Travel," he finally said. "Meet people. Make new friends. Try new things. Be happy."

And now here he is, standing in front of me on the Kirkwall docks with a vague smile. "Travel," he says. "Meet people. Make new friends. Be happy. Are your friends still here, Varric?"

"That's not what I-"

"You're here to help." He stands a bit taller over me and rolls his shoulders back. "There's so much here. So much pain, so much I can do. Helping, healing... makes them happy. And that is what makes me happy." His eyes widen, and for a moment a shadow of fear crosses his face. "Don't send me away."

"What?" I rock back on my heels. "I'm not-... No. Kid, I'm not going to send you away. That'd be like kicking a puppy."

"I like puppies."

I let out a long slow breath. And now I have a puppy. "Right." I shift the weight of my pack onto my other shoulder and nod my head towards a flight of wide stone stairs leading out of the docks. "C'mon, Kid. Let's get a room and a drink. Hanged Man is this way."