A corner of Hawke's mouth tilted, hearing her reasoning. So he closed the door behind her, and a wave of his hand saw a few more logs settling on the fire, the blaze leaping gratefully. He wasn't averse to a little chill, but there was no reason for the both of them to be cold.
"Sure. Have a seat." His quarters did sport more than a barrel and a few buckets for furniture, so Hawke pulled out one of the chairs near the desk, and took the other for himself. The quip about Varric made him laugh, though, and he shook his head in mirthful amusement.
"High praise, indeed," Hawke agreed, indicating her to shuffle and deal, if she wished. "But then, he's known for embellishment, so perhaps you shouldn't believe everything you hear, Lady Trevelyan." A smile and a wink followed, the mage's large hands comfortably laced together as he leaned his arms on the desk.
She slides into the seat he pulls out for her with a slight murmur of not-quite-voiced thanks, and sets the bottle of wine she'd liberated from the tavern with a touch of something wicked. "I came armed with bribery, just in case," she teases. And she does appreciate the warmth of the fire, even if she's rather accustomed to the fury of the elements by this point. She still preferred a bit of heat to the air on autumn nights like this where it was possible. And it did add a certain coziness, an edge of something inviting to the space, although Hawke did pretty well on that account all by himself.
Not what she'd expected of the Champion of Kirkwall, but that was almost a good thing. He was more approachable, more human than she'd thought he would be. He was someone that she could trust, whose aid she welcomed in a fight.
It's nice though, hearing him laugh, and it makes her eyes prick with something playful as she hums thoughtfully for a moment, a slight tilt of her head as she regards him. "You are right about that. So who knows if it's true or not. I suppose I should just find out for myself." And it's on that note that she picks up the deck of cards, shuffling with an ease that definitely hints at familiarity. The Circles might officially frown upon Wicked Grace making its way into the hands of Apprentices, but that just made it more enticing.
She deals the cards easily, that slight glint of her red nails as she deals their cards, setting the deck down and then carefully looking over her cards as she fans them out in her fingers. Not a bad hand, but not great either, but it was the first hand of the night, so she wasn't too worried.
"How are you holding up?" It's a soft question, more earnest, a little raw around the edges.
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Date: 2020-08-12 01:04 am (UTC)"Sure. Have a seat." His quarters did sport more than a barrel and a few buckets for furniture, so Hawke pulled out one of the chairs near the desk, and took the other for himself. The quip about Varric made him laugh, though, and he shook his head in mirthful amusement.
"High praise, indeed," Hawke agreed, indicating her to shuffle and deal, if she wished. "But then, he's known for embellishment, so perhaps you shouldn't believe everything you hear, Lady Trevelyan." A smile and a wink followed, the mage's large hands comfortably laced together as he leaned his arms on the desk.
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Date: 2020-08-12 05:27 pm (UTC)Not what she'd expected of the Champion of Kirkwall, but that was almost a good thing. He was more approachable, more human than she'd thought he would be. He was someone that she could trust, whose aid she welcomed in a fight.
It's nice though, hearing him laugh, and it makes her eyes prick with something playful as she hums thoughtfully for a moment, a slight tilt of her head as she regards him. "You are right about that. So who knows if it's true or not. I suppose I should just find out for myself." And it's on that note that she picks up the deck of cards, shuffling with an ease that definitely hints at familiarity. The Circles might officially frown upon Wicked Grace making its way into the hands of Apprentices, but that just made it more enticing.
She deals the cards easily, that slight glint of her red nails as she deals their cards, setting the deck down and then carefully looking over her cards as she fans them out in her fingers. Not a bad hand, but not great either, but it was the first hand of the night, so she wasn't too worried.
"How are you holding up?" It's a soft question, more earnest, a little raw around the edges.