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"So, I hear everyone played Wicked Grace last night? I suppose it's safe to assume it went well, what with all the laughing there was."
"It was a lot of fun, Dorian. A shame you couldn't be there. What were you doing instead?"
"Ahh," he sighed, "writing a few letters to Tevinter, researching some genealogy. That sort of thing. A pity I couldn't even get a minute away to drop by and say hi. I heard our commander made quite the display."
A sly smile emerged onto Elyde's lips. "Oh, he did. I saw him later in his quarters to 'discuss' the event."
"Oh, you little minx. You were just waiting for that to happen, weren't you? And here I thought the Dalish were all innocent of mind."
"We are! At least, no one ever shared their deepest darkest fantasies with me. I was never a sociable one in my clan."
"You weren't sociable? I'm astonished. The Herald of Andraste is unsociable!" He laughed and shook his head gently. "You hardly seem the part, now."
After a time in thought, the elf replied, "This is true. I've become someone different now."
"You're a lot more humorous than when I first met you. At least now you understand my jokes."