who_is_she | knock knock who's there it's me cole

knock knock who's there it's me cole

Over the last several months, Cole had spent a lot of time with Mihril.

At first, he hadn't questioned it, just accepted Mihril as one of the people he could call a friend, along with Varric and Dorian and Jean and the others. But slowly he'd realized that how he felt about Mihril wasn't quite the same as what he felt for his friends, and Mihril understood him much better than any of them, even Varric. He found himself thinking about them often, especially when he was out in the wilderness and happened upon some magical and mysterious object. He would keep these objects, sometimes even hiding them from his companions so ensure that he would be the one to hand them over to Mihril.

Mihril liked to ask questions as well, which Cole enjoyed answering and then asking questions of his own.

He found himself overcome with curiosity about the nature of their relationship but couldn't quite bring himself to ask Mihril about it. He watched the couples around him instead, studying them for any hint of familiarity with what was between him and Mihril. He watched Varric and Jean the most closely, as he was already quite familiar with their relationship, but it was still confusing. Varric and Jean didn't spend long hours talking about magic, and neither of them brought each other magical curiosities to study, though sometimes they would talk about Varric's stories for a long time, and sometimes Jean would bring Varric food if he got too caught up in writing. It was close, but it wasn't the same, and Cole had no idea what to do about it.

Finally, he decided that direct communication would be the best course of action, and appeared in Varric's room.

"Varric, I need your advice," he said, sounding grim.

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Varric looked up from his writing, turning around quickly in his chair to face Cole. Cole's sudden appearances and disappearances had become slightly less startling over the years, but he still wasn't quite accustomed to them.

"Kid," he laughs, "What did we say about-"

He pauses when he takes in the grim tone in Cole's voice, and the worried expression on his face. Something was bothering the kid, and this clearly wasn't the time for a talk about knocking on doors before materializing in people's rooms.

"What's the matter, Cole?" he asks, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees.

Cole turns to perch on the bed, bringing both feet up to wrap his arms around them as he considered how to phrase what he wanted to know. Mortals always seemed so sure of their feelings, whether positive or negative, sure enough to start wars or link themselves to one person for the rest of their lives. Cole had never experienced such confidence in his own thoughts and feelings; they seemed ever-changing and moving, never quite settling in one place.

He supposed what he wanted to know most of all was how to be sure. He knew he liked Mihril's company, enjoyed helping them to hurt less and didn't want to stop seeing her or talking to her, but he felt the same way about Varric and the rest of his friends. What he felt for Mihril did seem different, but how do you know, with nothing more to go on than a vague kind of hint?

"How do you know if you're in love?" Cole asked finally, figuring that this was the most important information to get first, and figuring that Varric would know, because he'd experienced it so many times.

Varric's eyes open wide, and he stares at Cole, mouth slightly agape, before letting out a short laugh. Of all the questions he had been expecting him to ask, this was definitely not on the list.

"Have you-" he begins, then stops to wet his lips and scratch at his neck. "Have you been seeing someone, kid?" His thoughts were racing as he tried to think of who it might possibly be, but was drawing a blank.

"Who is this about?" he asks.

Cole frowns at Varric's response, his fingers tapping an agitated beat against his knees.

"That's not important," he says, looking away and tilting his hat so Varric can't see his face, "I just want to know. I thought you'd know." He starts to lean back and forth, feeling frustrated though he's not sure why. Part of him wants to keep Mihril private and safe, part of him is afraid one of his friends might be unkind to her if they don't understand. They might not approve, they might decide it's bad no matter that Cole is unsure of his own feelings and force him away.

He doesn't think so badly of his friends, because they haven't made him leave so far, but that's the worst part. He doesn't know. He doesn't like not knowing.

Varric can see Cole becoming agitated and he regrets his question immediately. Hoisting himself up, he makes his way over to where Cole is seated on the bed, careful to leave him with plenty of space.

"All right, it's okay. Let's see. How to know if you're in love," he starts, tapping his finger thoughtfully against his knee, at a bit of a loss, for a moment.

"It varies from person to person, I think," he says, "A crush might be a warm, tingly kind of feeling in your chest, or pain in your gut. How's this person make you feel?"

Cole starts to relax when Varric comes nearer, tilting his head to listen though he still doesn't meet his eyes. Varric's answer is vague, and it makes him frown again. He was hoping for something more concrete, but he considers Varric's question anyways. He figures talking about himself is safe enough, anyways.

"Like... Comfortable. Relaxed." He holds out his hand, imagining the warm weight of a rune in his palm, the sweet melody of Mihril's magic, "Is it supposed to hurt? Some people say it hurts."

Varric chuckles lightly and crosses his arms.

"It can hurt sometimes," he says, reflecting. "Boy, can it ever. But that's not all it is. Comfortable and relaxed are part of it too, when it's right. There should be more of that than there is hurting. I didn't understand that part for a long time." He ribs Cole, gently.

"But you know all about that, don't you? With all the poking around in my head you get up to.

"I..." Cole frowns, gathers his thoughts, "Sort of. It feels different in me than it feels in other people. I don't get distracted thinking about their arm muscles like you do. And I don't want to write a story about that time in the barn, when Blackwall almost walked in on you and Jean. And I don't think about getting ravished like Dorian does." He taps the fingers of one hand against the back of the other, considering, "And... Whenever I feel love from someone else, it's always coiled up with the hurt. I don't think I know what it's like when it's not hurting."

If loving Mihril meant they would hurt because of it, Cole would rather go without.

Varric laughs to cover his embarrassment, scrubbing his face with his hands.

"All right, well, there is more to love than all that. Just because you don't feel that for your mystery friend doesn't mean you don'r love them."

He smiles a little at what he says next.

"The hurt's not always there, despite how it may feel to you," he says, "Sometimes it's just...happy, and warm, and the best damn feeling in the world. The hurt of caring about another person will come and go, just like any other friendship, but the love is always there. Does that make any sense at all?"

Cole frowns, combing over his thoughts about Mihril and trying to place the words Varric has given him, like puzzle pieces. He does care deeply for them, can hear the call of their suffering from further and further away, and can't quite remember being so comfortable as he is in their presence. He's found that he can stay by Mihril's side for long periods, when with any of his closest friends--though he enjoys their company--sometimes they are too loud and Cole needs to be alone. Mihril is never too loud, and that seems special, like it means something, but what.

"I don't know," Cole says, threading his fingers together behind his neck and making a noise of frustration, "I've never felt like this so I don't know how to make it make sense."

"Hey, kid, it's alright," Varric says, carefully resting a hand on his shoulder. "It's rough, believe me, I know it is. But look...I've found that when you think you're in love, chances are you probably are, for better or worse."

He rubs Cole's shoulder with his thumb, soothingly.

"Have you tried talking to...whoever this is about it? See how they feel? You could ask them...I don't know, out on a date?" The thought of Cole going on a proper date was not something Varric could easily picture, even with his imagination.

Cole sighs, soothed by the contact, and lowers his hands into his lap.

"They get... Scared, sometimes, by people. I don't want to scare them. They don't like to leave, either. I wouldn't know where to take them or... What to do." Cole makes a face, shaking his head a little. Most of the time they've spent together has been in Mihril's private study room, because it's quiet and close to the library and Cole likes it there. Sometimes when he finds her she's with some of the other mages, but Cole has never wanted to interrupt or disrupt their work.

"I've given them things. Sometimes you do that, right? But I was doing that before I met them. I like giving people things to soothe them. Mihril is soothed by magic." The name slips out without Cole noticing, lost in thought about the things he's given Mihril. None of them were quiet the same things he'd given others, though; lost and missed items or comforting memories, not usually magical curiosities unless the two overlapped. Cole ran his thumb idly over the elven dagger strapped to his hip, along the hilt, which Mihril had restored to more than its former glory. It was happy, now, to sit in Cole's palm and be an extension of his purpose.

"Mihril, huh?" Varric asks, a knowing smirk on the corner of his lips. "The enchanter's assistant? Yeah, I can see that. I bet she likes having company that doesn't yell at her, poor kid. She's always got a million people telling her what to do, it's got to be comforting to have someone like you around."

He nods in acknowledgement at the dagger in Cole's hand.

"Is that where you got that thing from?"

Cole starts a little when Varric says Mihril's name, realizing his mistake too late. He feels a little guilty, now, for being suspicious of Varric when Varric had never been suspicious of him, but whatever it is between him and Mihril, it seems... fragile.

Cole blushes a little when Varric points to the knife, and he considers denying it, keeping this secret close to his chest, but Varric has been good to him. Varric can be trusted.

"Sort of," he says, pulling out the dagger, one corner of his mouth turning up as it faintly vibrates with excitement in his palm, "It wanted purpose again and Mihril gave it one. It's my friend, now."

Varric smiles warmly at the expression on Cole's face, recognizing the puppy love in his sheepish grin all too well.

"Well, if you want my advice," he says, sliding his arm around Cole's shoulders, "I say you should talk to her about this. I know it's scary, but it's the only way things can move forward. I mean, remember what would have happened with me and Jean if you hadn't stepped in and gotten us to talk to each other? I'd be an ocean away, by now, in Kirkwall, and he'd be here, and both of us would be sore and full of regret. Don't let it get away from you, is what I'm trying to say."

Cole looks sidelong at Varric, chewing on his lip and considering his words.

"I wish there was another me to help me along," he says morosely, disliking the way his stomach hurts at the prospect of bringing this tenuous situation to light, "I'm still... Not sure about how I feel. But I'll think about it."

Cole stands, sliding the dagger back into its sheath with care.

"Thank you, Varric."

Varric gives his shoulder a squeeze and releases him, standing up to make his way back over to his desk.

"Anytime, kid. Just...knock next time you want to talk to me about your love life, alright?"

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knock knock who's there it's me cole

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