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The woman entered the taverna in such an awkward manner, that half of the patrons could not help to look in her direction. She felt so strangely out of place.
The Iron Bull had heard about the Seeker. He was good, at what he was doing. And as such he thought he knew the most important things there were to know about her. Everyone could see that she was human, and her Nevarran accent was hard to miss as well. She was in line for the throne of Nevarra, but so far down that darn list, that unless there was a plague or a Blight or some similarly bloody nonsense it was quite unlikely that her sturdy ass would ever grace the seat of that throne. Parents were dead. Brother was dead. And a bunch of other relatives as well. Had been raised by her uncle.
She had joined the order of the Seekers at a young age, and was the youngest member of that order to do their freaky graduation ritual in hundreds of years. She had a stick up her bum, more than even the average person here, and she took religion very seriously. There was also some story about her opposing some blood mages on some shady business when she was a young woman.
More importantly now, she had been the one with the idea to start this Inquisition business up again.
Folks said she would drink at times, but usually would do so in private chambers with some of her friends. She seemed to be somewhat trusting towards both the commander, and Sister Nightingale, while the Iron Bull had long learned that Varric was not exactly thinking highly of her. Though then again, the dwarf, who was good at bending tales, but bad at shutting up completely, had also told him he had been “basically kidnapped”.
Either way. It was unusual to see the Seeker in the taverna, let alone in the middle of the afternoon.
He looked over to Krem, who just shrugged, then to Skinner, who was smirking now as he watched the woman.
The Iron Bull grunted, before going over to the counter, getting himself some more alcohol, before going over to the table at which the Seeker was sitting.
“Funny meeting you here, Lady Seeker,” he grunted, as he sat down opposite of her.
She almost jerked as he spoke to her. “Oh… Bull… I did not see you.”
He laughed. “Yes, I am small enough that it is easy to overlook me.” He leaned back on the chair, which was creaking under his weight, and took a long sip from his mug. “Not to put too much of a point on it, Lady Seeker, but you look like shit.”
She evaded his gaze. “I will guarantee you, I am perfectly fine.”
“Right. That is what brought you here in the middle of the afternoon. Isn’t there a place for you to be standing and look more important than you do here?”
“I…” She paused for a moment, and then fixed on him. “I know what you are doing. You try to do your spywork!”
“I am not exactly subtle about it, am I now?”
“If there was anything important bothering me right now, I would not tell you.”
“Why not?” He took a sip from his mug once more. It was filled with beer that had been mixed with brandy. No quite strong enough for his taste, though he guessed something that was strong enough for him would most likely kill the average soldier.
“Because I am sworn to this Inquisition.”
“That you founded yourself,” he replied.
“Well, yes. Because it was the only thing I could do, with the Divine dead, and the war otherwise only getting worse, as everyone is trying to blame anyone else.” Again she paused, before furrowing her brows. “Damn you!”
“See those shoulders?” He nodded at this own. “Those are really good to cry on. So I have been told.” He grunted.
“I am not desperate maiden who would do such a thing,” Cassandra protested.
“Why not, though? I bet it would feel real good. Can’t be easy, always being the one who has to have her head in the game.”
She harrumphed. “I am not that easy to make to talk.”
“You have too much pride for that, don’t you?” He smirked.
“That does not concern you,” she muttered.
“Come on now, Cass,” he said, making his tone more friendly. “We are all in this together. To some degree at least. And I cannot help but note how you’re here while normally you would not be. Despite my lack of depth perception, I am observant in that way.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Look, Iron Bull, I am just… worried for what lies ahead and what it might mean. And I thought to myself, that drinking all those worries away works for some people, so might try as well.”
He raised an eyebrow looking at the mug in front of her. He took it.
“Hey!” she protested, but he did not react.
It was watered down beer. “If you wanna get drunk, that is not the right stuff for that. You’ll piss that out before it gets in your mind.” He shoved his own mug towards her. “Try this.”
She sniffed at his mug. “Are you just trying to make me drunk now so that you can get me to talk?”
He chuckled. “Please. I have quite a few methods of making people talk. And I know enough, to know that right now you, my good Seeker, need just a chance to let loose. Mind you, our dear Inquisitor understands that.”
She grimaced. “Oh, I heard of the story.”
The Iron Bull just grinned at her. “The man is surprisingly good at holding his liquor, you know?” He nodded over to his men, sitting in their usual corner. “Join us. Come on now. It can only be good for you. Just once. Eh?”
