Varric wasted no time at all in saying possibly the dumbest words he could possibly say.

[color=007236]"Well, you muscular hunk of man you, it would appear your daughter and I are soulmates, as we both have received flowers of that grand old tale. I suppose that makes you my new daddy, eh?"[/color] Varric winked, [color=007236]"Now, sadly this means no grandchildren and your family line will die out, because, you know, vaginas, but on the other hand you can take pride in knowing your daughter has such a strapping and responsible young man to take care of her weak, frail female form."[/color]

Clearly this was tongue-in-cheek. Varric doubted anyone other than her own father could beat Guinevere in a fight. Honestly, Guinevere was far more ready to be an adventurer than Varric. He was a powerful bard, yea, but his magic was all avoidance and mobility. His only offense was vines and bursts of wind. He knew theoretically he should be more in tune with all the elements, but since when did his emotional state and needs involve fire and frost and lightning? There was a reason his mom enchanted his lute so thoroughly.

Varric was honestly joking around to relieve the tension he himself felt. If Guinevere was his soulmate, then...what did that mean for their friendship? For their plans to adventure?

WHAT DID IT MEAN FOR HIS STRING OF LOVERS!? 

He had only had a short string so far. Nothing incredible like his mother had. A proper bard adventurer had to have an extensive list of trouser behemoths engorged and/or waistcaves dived into. His list was, like, a few attractve young travellers and maybe a local.

Dammit, he was a stallion. He was too damn young to be monogamous!