Ophelia noticed that the Qunari amongst the Inquisitor's companions stared at her every time she passed him. At first, she assumed it was curiosity, or an attempt to read her. She had heard that he was still working as a spy for the Qun, Ben-Hassrath, or so she was told. But now she knew that he was just staring. They had shared snippets of conversation, initiated by him, that she obliged to so as not to appear rude.

This feels a whole like how Zev and I met, she thought to herself. She fiddled with the gold hoop in her right ear, as small as it was, it always brought her comfort when her fingers found their way to the metal. A reminder of what she had, who she had. She loved Zevran, and he loved her, and the pair had a mutual agreement when it came to pleasure. Knowing that their fates often meant that they were separate from each other, they were free to seek pleasure, as Ophelia preferred to call it, or sex as Zevran preferred to call it, whenever they desired. They knew it was pleasure and nothing more, what the pair had ran deeper than that, they loved each other, and that love meant being aware of each other's needs.

Ophelia was sat at the bar in the tavern in Skyhold. She rubbed her temple gently, nursing the drink the gruff Dwarven bartender had given her. The calling that Corypheus had set upon them was in her head, incessantly clawing at her mind, tempting, teasing. It was a burden, one that could be washed away with alcohol. She saw the hulking figure of the Iron Bull walking over to her from his usual spot at the side by Krem, the handsome Charger that worked for the qunari. Ophelia stifled the groan that left her mouth, if she had learnt anything from what Emilia had told her, he was going to flirt mercilessly.

"He has a thing for redheads." She had said, "And I think you have a thing for him, too."

She wasn't exactly wrong.

Ophelia's problem was that she was terrible at flirting. With Zevran, it had been easy, he did all the flirting for her, he propositioned her, she simply said 'yes'. Though if Emilia was correct, it might go the same way here.

"Two drinks," Bull's voice boomed as he took up a seat next to her. Ophelia looked across the bar, towards the Iron Bull, nobody was sat next to him, so why had he bought another drink? She had barely finished her thought before she saw the second flagon being pushed towards her by a grey elbow. She flicked her eyes up to his face, to see his one eye trained on hers, she felt her face flush, she looked away immediately. He must be reading me like an open fucking book, she thought, feeling the redness in her cheeks intensify. Ophelia found her pouch of coins on the side of her dress, and put the coppers on the bar, enough for the pair, the dwarf slid the money across the counter towards himself. "You didn't have to do that," The Bull said quietly. Ophelia shrugged. "No really, I already paid."

"And I didn't, that was for my previous ones." She lied, holding up her now empty flagon.

"Okay," The Bull chuckled, unconvinced, but he wasn't going to let her know that, she was clearly embarrassed enough as it was, and she was very clearly a proud woman. Ophelia took the drink, assuming that Bull would insist that she drink it, or at very least claim it as her drink. "How have you been finding your time at Skyhold? You look uneasy wherever you go, why?" Ophelia's filter had crumbled, she didn't have a high tolerance for drink, so words came easier.

"Oh, just the fact that Corypheus has faked the Calling which is giving me constant headaches and has the others shitting themselves, except that other warden here, extraordinary don't you think? And you-" She stopped herself, if she continued talking she knew she'd say something that she would later regret, so she kept her mouth shut. Bull smirked to himself, his suspicions had been right, her chest had turned a slight shade of pink, easily noticeable against her pale skin. He was equally relieved that she was opening up to him, though he knew there was little he could do to actually help her situation,

"And drinking helps I guess? With the Calling, not with me." He replied.

"To a degree, yes, but the whispers are always there." Her expression was pained momentarily, but as soon as it registered, it had disappeared again as she took a sip of the drink Bull had so kindly paid for.

She almost choked on it, coughing loudly as the liquid she could only assume was corrosive burned down her throat. Bull roared with laughter,

"That'll put some chest on your chest!" Ophelia glared at him, wiped her mouth and then took another swig, trying to contain her cough this time. Oh, she was proud.
A moment of silence lapsed between the two as Ophelia composed herself,

"I've seen the way you've been looking at me." She spoke, breaking the quiet,

"And I've seen the way you have been looking at me."

"But why? It's not like I'm much to look at, there are far better looking women, far better looking men!" Bull saddened slightly, this is what she thinks of herself?

"You, dear woman, are beautiful, just as beautiful as the women and certainly better looking than the men. And you're a redhead." He replied, his voice deepening as he spoke. She scoffed, taking another sip of her drink.

"You sound just like Zev," She said quietly, with a small chuckle.

"Oh, are you spoken for? That's why you've been so unwilling, I-"

"Yes and no. It's complicated? I mean, not really but…"

"So, what are you saying?"

"I… Uh- I need another drink." She said, chugging the rest of her drink, coughing again before wiping her mouth. She stood up quickly, almost knocking the bar stool over as she did.

"You going somewhere?"

"Yes, and you're coming with me." She said, her words elongating ever so slightly, before she turned around and walked towards the tavern door. His interest piqued, Bull followed.