It's a little strange how quickly Haven begins to feel like home. Dusty is used to being viewed with suspicion, at best, and she can't even say that it's unjustified. Most of her interactions with humans prior to the Inquisition generally involved either stealing from them or speaking with them as contacts… en route to stealing something. So really, she would totally have understood if everyone had spent the entire time there watching her hands, and it would have only hurt her feelings a little, even though she hasn't picked a pocket since before this Breach business ever kicked off.
However, not only do the people around treat her the same as any of the rest of their comrades, Dusty is actually starting to be recognised, and that's more than a little alarming. Blending inconspicuously into the background is kind of her thing; it's difficult to get anywhere as a conspicuous smuggler. Once she gets past the initial reaction of 'oh sod, the lawmen know my face', though, she's able to see that it's just, well… friendliness. The quartermaster Threnn always takes care to be polite, even though she really doesn't have to. Some of the guards call out greetings when they see her approaching the gates , and then there's the elven researcher Minaeve, with whom Dusty had quite an involved conversation about lyrium. It felt weird to be treated like an expert on anything, and if Dusty's honest, she really isn't, but it was nice to help out, even a little.
Haven is just… different from the Carta. Back with the other Cadash, it's a competition with cutthroat stakes. Who can bring in the biggest take? Who's been hanging out with whom? Who's pulled off the most impressive job? Which boss do you owe your loyalty to? Everyone's looking out for themselves first and foremost, and anyone that tells you otherwise is, to a greater or lesser extent, lying through their teeth. Dusty can't even claim it was any different for her; she kept to herself, didn't ask questions, and did as she was told. The Inquisition by contrast… well, it's not quite accurate to say that everyone works together; she sees friction all the time, especially between the ex-templars and the mages. Past that, though, there's camaraderie, genuine cooperation, genuine belief in their cause. Somewhere along the way, spending days resting from the journey and helping out where she can, reluctance growing to leave and start the supply run all over again, she realises that maybe a little of that belief is creeping into her, too. Andraste was real, and this is real. Not like the Stone is doing anything for her up here, being a casteless exile and all.
It's with that in mind that Dusty carefully approaches one of the tents close to Haven's chantry. She's always had that knack for moving quietly, and the hooded figure leaning over a table doesn't move as she steps under the tent's tarpaulin.
"Can I help you?" the voice is cool, Orlesian-accented. Its owner straightens up but doesn't turn.
"I ah… I overheard some people calling you the Divine's hand."
There's a pause, and then the woman turns to regard Dusty. Her hair is red, though a little softer in hue than Dusty's flaming crop-cut. She's also wearing quite the frown. "I was," she admits, and Dusty knows guard when she hears it.
"I was… well… I was wondering if I could ask you some things. About the Maker."
The woman stares down as Dusty like she's grown a second head, and then erupts in peals of laughter, a veritable fit of giggling that catches the dwarf completely by surprise.
"That was not what I was expecting when I heard you walk in," she eventually informs Dusty. The woman's eyes sweep her, and for an instant, she feels completely bare. "I've seen you around. Yes, I think you've worked with some of my people. A smuggler, are you not?"
"Yeah, that's right."
The hooded woman looks back to her desk, where Dusty can just about make out page after page of letters. "Well, I suppose I have a moment," she inclines her head. "I am Leliana."
"Dusty. Cadash."
"Mm, I know a story when I see one," Leliana does not follow up on that enigmatic remark, though there's a twinkle in her eyes as she says it. "All right, tell me; how familiar are you with the Chant of Light?"
The half hour before Leliana is pulled back to her duties is amongst the most illuminating in Dusty's entire life.