[Krem's POV]

Krem was drinking his favorite rum from the bottle, sitting comfortably on his sturdy wooden chair. Maryden was singing that song she wrote for Sera again. He was very certain that Maryden had a thing for Sera. Definitely something. She wrote songs about the Grey Wardens, the First Enchanter, even the Empress. But Sera. Sera was the only companion in the Inquisitor's team who has a song. And she conveniently stayed here in the Herald's Rest. He reckoned he should ask his Boss about it. He was a Ben-Hassrath after all. He had to know something.

The tavern door opened and another Inquisition scout entered. From his seat facing the tavern door, Krem could see every single patron entering the tavern, and every single one leaving. And he loved it.

He liked to see how a heavy burly warrior walked into the tavern proudly, only to be carried away in a drunken mess when the tavern closed. How a scrawny shy elf walked in warily yet left with two ladies, one on each arm, at the end of the night.

Sometimes Krem felt bored too. Lonely, in fact. When the down time between jobs was too long. Sometimes he wondered, while drinking his favorite rum and sitting on the sturdy wooden chair. Will the next person that walks through the tavern door be the one he has been waiting for?

[Harding's POV]

Scout Harding was standing outside the Herald's Rest. She was in a jovial mood. Ambassador Montilyet had sent her a basket of flowers to show her appreciation of her contribution to the Inquisition. She was so bashful when she was receiving it from the Ambassador's hands. She did not think she has contributed that much to the Inquisition, definitely not enough to be noticed by the Ambassador of the Inquisition. But she was exhilarated. Nobody has ever given her flowers before.

The tavern door opened and another Inquisition scout entered. Standing near the Herald's Rest door, Harding could see every single patron entering the tavern, and every single one leaving. And she loved it.

Her favorite patron was the Inquisitor. Whenever the Inquisitor was in Skyhold, she would visit the tavern everyday. Not because she was an alcoholic. Maker, no. Lady Lavellan's interest was not in the bottle, but her feisty companion who stayed at the second floor of the tavern. Sera. Everybody in the Inquisition could see that they were both in love with each other, but none has dared to make the first move. Oh how Harding wished that she could be the messenger to whisper the blinding truth to their ears.

Sometimes Harding looked at the different patrons entering that door and sighed. Why won't anyone stop and ask her if she would like to have a drink too. She was a dwarf, yes. But she believed she could not be that tiny and invisible. When will someone stop before opening the door, and invite her for a drink?