"So," Iron Bull began, sliding an ale to Adaar and flopping unceremoniously across from her. "Can't help but feel we got off to a rough start. What with the Ben-Hassrath thing."
Adaar raised an eyebrow. The woman was all haughtiness and ice. Who else would read at a tavern? Solas didn't even do that and he had an opinion of himself higher than Sundermount. With a sigh, she closed the tome.
"No, Bull, I'm upset because if we tried to enter a building at the same time, we'd bring down the whole thing." She explained sarcastically in a dead pan tone.
"Ha! Because your horns!" Sera interjected from her perch on the windowsill where she watched Solas, Varric and Blackwall play Diamondback.
"I figured it was better hearing it from me, outright. Better than finding out down the road."
She slid the ale back to him, unimpressed. "Regardless of when or where I heard it; that doesn't erase the fact that you are a Qunari spy."
Bull growled under his breath before responding, "And yet you took the Chargers on."
Adaar shrugged. "Truthfully, you run a good crew. They're loyal, professional and they get results. I'd be a fool to let such a resource go."
Bull laughed around his drink. "Not wanting to waste a valuable resource, eh? You're more Qunari than you know."
He pushed the ale back to her as he stood up. Before Adaar could protest, Bull added, "Keep it. It'll help you look more approachable. Besides, don't want to waste a resource, right?"
The scrape of the chair and the challenge of 'I'm plenty approachable!' made the tavern fall silent.
All eyes regarded the Herald of Andraste flatly and silently. A flush began to creep around where Adaar's skin gave way to her horns.
Blackwall was the first to break the embarrassing silence by leaning back and belting in almost a shout, "Sera was never an agreeable girl,"
Around them the tavern goers hefted their tankards and chanted the rest of the song.
Over the drunken cries, Maryden plinking out the accompaniment and Sera protesting how much she hated that song, Iron Bull cocked an eyebrow and chuckled. He sat back down and tossed the tome on an empty table.
"Lesson number one:" He began over her protests of how vital that tome was. "Save the studying for when everyone isn't unwinding."
"That was on primal technique! You want to be blown up in battle? Cause taking my source material away is how you wind up getting blown up in battle. I didn't get this way by having a handler or living in a Circle of Magi. Everything I know, I learned from books."
Bull pushed aside the none to subtle jab at how the Qun treated mages and swatted away her pointed finger. "You have several skilled mages at your disposal who would love to talk shop-when the shop is open. Now isn't the time for that. This is the time to connect with your people."
He didn't have to be Ben-Hassrath to see her anxiety as she looked around the tavern hesitantly. He had watched her with some of her mercenary group. She was witty with them and at ease. She looked comfortable and it was obvious that they cared her. But here? She was a fish out of water.
"You sheltered, little Vashoth." Bull laughed in realization. "You've never been around this many people who weren't like us."
"Not long enough that the oxman remarks get old, no." She sounded uncertain and a little suspicious, as if she really didn't want to tell him this. As if she wasn't sure what he would do with this information.
She took a deep breath and continued as if she was unloading everything she had wanted to say to him on the beach. "Despite what you believe Tal-Vashoth to be, we have communities in the South. We're tight knit and tend to not stray far out of our circles. For all the thugs and bandits you see there are twice as many women and children and elderly."
'If only there were a place or religion where they wouldn't discriminated against.' Is what Iron Bull wanted to say. Instead, Bull grimaced. "You see, bating me into an argument about the Qun is the exact opposite way to become approachable."
Adaar gave him a glare in challenge and continued. "Sometimes in the same community. It's hard to break out of the hired muscle and performing oddity."
"Look, Po. Can I call you Po?"
"No. It's Pomelia or Adaar." She bristled, green eyes glancing longingly at the tome.
"Adaar, with all due respect, shut up and drink."
Her green eyes grew wide, and she took a sharp intake of breath through her pert upturned nose. And then she drained of ale faster than he had ever seen. Bull chuckled. It seemed that Po took direction well, like a good little Vashoth.
"Would that do?" She challenged flatly, crossing her arms.
Bull laughed so hard; the table shook. It seemed that things were going to be pretty interesting with his new Boss.