There was a part of her that still wondered what sort of dragon would find him suitable on the sands, and a part of her that knew beyond certainty that he was wondering the same already. There wasn't a candidate alive that didn't wonder what they would Impress come Hatching Day, and surely Varric was no different. After all, back when she had first stood as a candidate at Telgar, she had imagined herself on some lovely little green, being the utterly practical creature that she was and realizing that half of the dragon population in the North was comprised of greens. When she transferred to New Atricis, she had expanded her hopes to include any dragon, hoping that the one who would find her perfect would be shelled on the sands here in the South. That, as it turned out, had merely been a pipe dream for her, but she found herself wishing nothing but the best for the young man in front of her. She would have said a fine bronze like Behemoth, but she also decided that it was long time that Varric stand on his own two feet, step out from his cousin’s shadow. A brown then, strong and sturdy in their own rights. And brownriders had been Wingleaders and Weyrleaders in the past, she noted with a smile at the thought of her new friend Impressing. Perhaps it wouldn't be a pipe dream for him, she thought with a faint and wry smile.
He spoke then, pulling her out of her thoughts for a moment and thrusting her back into the world of the living, so to speak. As he commented on intending to stand until he aged out, a slight frown crossed her features. Yes, at his likely age it was within the realm of possibility that he may age out, but there was a part of her that wanted so deeply for him to have better luck than she had. His cousin was already a rider, after all, and blood often told about things like that… then again, she had been Searched with, as far as she understood, no known riders in her family line. Unless there was some Telgarian rider somewhere far back, but she thought it unlikely, as her parents would have told her about such a thing if that were the case. Instead of outright telling the young man that she thought he was wrong, she merely nodded in mild approval at his words, understanding that, like she herself had been, Varric was simply being practical about the whole thing. “Admittedly, Weyr life is definitely preferable to me than Hold life or Hall life had ever been,” she told him, chuckling a bit in amusement that he had mimicked her sentiment right away. Yes, they could certainly be friends, she thought with a bit of amusement lingering in the back of her mind at the thought that she had basically just made friends with the kin of the first person to truly make her feel welcome at New Atricis. Irony worked in strange ways like that, after all.
He asked another question then, and she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at the fact that he had actually mimicked the very thought that she had mere moments ago. His wink, presumably to seal the deal of friendship between the two, had her chuckling just a bit more, and at last she schooled her expression into a slightly less amused one as she regarded what he had told her. “Would I be willing?” she asked, though the words were more to herself than to Varric as she tapped a finger against her chin, mimicking a motion that her father had often made when he was thinking hard about something. She found it endearing that, even now when she hadn’t been able to visit the man in Turns, she was still falling into the same old habits that she had picked up from him. Perhaps she was more like him that she had initially thought, she mused with a faint smile as she continued to ruminate on what her newfound friend had said. “Well, Varric, you happen to be in luck. I believe I already consider you one of those very friends,” she told him with a grin, her eyes bright with mirth as she gave him a wink of her own. “Honestly, the fact that we both know the same person is just a plus. I actually feel like I’ve known you for Turns, despite the fact that we’ve just met.”
It seemed strange to her, thinking that way towards this young man. Perhaps it was because she already knew A’ric so well, and she was projecting the cousin onto Varric? No, she told herself firmly, he was not his cousin. There were similarities, likely due to the fact that Varric had spent so long following in his cousin’s footsteps, but there were also so many differences that she couldn’t possibly be confusing the one for the other. Varric was his own person, and something about him made her feel the way she did. Yes, he was definitely a friend, one that she felt she had already known in some way or form before he even arrived at the Weyr. And that had nothing to do with the bronzerider. So she listened intently to his story, and actually found herself nodding in agreement to quite a bit of what he had to say. “I completely agree,” she commented when he paused, a smile lighting his face after speaking about his time as a miner. “I’ll readily admit to being something of a brat when I was young as well. Stubborn thing that never wanted to listen to others, save for my father. Being in a craft taught me that not everything had to go my way, and it often didn’t. Gave me a bit of a wake up call, that.” But there was no way she was going back to that life, she told herself with a smile as she had realized long ago that she was too attached to Weyr life, and had found herself permanently affected by what Holders and crafters so begrudgingly called the ‘Weyr-bug’. She had heard her Master, when she had told him that she had been Searched by Telgar, muttering to himself about losing too many good apprentices to the Weyr-bug, and here he had just lost another.
At the sudden mention of her father, Alassiel shook her head to clear her thoughts for a moment, her gaze falling squarely on Varric as he spoke. A thoughtful look crossed her face as she thought about it, trying to determine just what Alaric had thought of his eldest child and only daughter never returning home. Or what he had thought when she had written to him, explaining that she had aged out of candidacy, but would be continuing her craft studies here in the South, as opposed to returning to the Smith Hall. “To be honest, I’ve never thought about it much,” she admitted, a frown tugging at her lips as she glanced away for a moment, composing herself before turning back to Varric. “Partly because I didn’t want to think of him being disappointed in the first place. After apprenticing to my craft, he always said he couldn’t be prouder of me. I feel like I may have disappointed him, choosing to stand for dragons instead of furthering myself in the craft first. But surely he’s proud that I’ve tried, and prouder still that I’m choosing to continue in the craft. I just… fear that he’s not so happy that I’m remaining in the South, so far away from him and my mother. And my little brother, though I haven’t heard from Alariel in some time.”