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Title: Diversions
Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Humour
Rating & Warnings: PG (blood mention)
Words: 401
Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age: Inquisition.
Summary: Varric comes up with a couple of different ways to pass the time on the Storm Coast.
Author's Notes: This is a combination of party banter turning up in a funny place and the conversation between me and my brother that followed. Don't think too long and hard about the likelihood of this one particular song developing both on Earth and Thedas.

If you like what you've read, please consider supporting me on Patreon! I'm currently minimally employed, so every little bit helps.

It was hard to stay cheerful while surrounded by so much red lyrium. Varric had tried to help everybody out by starting a game of I Spy as they trudged through the Storm Coast cave, but Cassandra had shut him down immediately. It was probably for the best: in this place, all they would be spying was something red (lyrium) or something grey (everything else).

But at last, the Templars were defeated, leaving the cave open for the Inquisition. Everyone had been more than ready to head back when the Inquisitor discovered a rowboat that may have seen recent use. There was also an island within sight of the shore—maybe they hadn't dealt with the last of the Red Templars after all.

There was only one pair of oars in the boat and Cassandra made sure to claim them before the Inquisitor did. Of course, it wasn't as if there were anyone else in rowing shape. Varric was out of the question for obvious reasons, and while Cole was stronger than he looked, that wasn't saying much, given he looked as if he'd fall over in a not-all-that-stiff breeze.

For a while after they pushed off, there came only the sounds of the wind and the oars slipping into the water. Then Varric began to sing:

"Row, row, row your boat. . . ."

The Inquisitor at once grinned and waited to join in at the right part. "Row, row, row your boat. . . ." Her grin widened as Cassandra let out an "ugh" with a roll of her eyes.

"But we're not on a stream," Cole said as the old round went on. "We're on the ocean."

"It's just a song, kid," Varric broke off to tell him. "You can sing it wherever you want—on a stream, the ocean, dry land, you name it."

"Oh," he said as Varric rejoined the Inquisitor, who had kept the music going.

"Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream. . . ."

"Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream. . . ."

"She washes her hands over and over, scrubbing, scraping, scouring. She can't stop, she can't. All the water in all the seas will never be enough to clean her hands of the blood . . . so much blood. . . ."

Cassandra gritted her teeth and rowed harder. The sooner they reached the island, the better.
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