Some of the inquisition members really like Cullen’s ass-ets.

After a long week of sealing rifts and fighting with mages and templars in the Hinterlands, we headed back to Skyhold for a well-deserved break.
Surprisingly enough, Cassandra did not object to my idea and agreed that we needed some R&R.

Once washed up, I head to meet everyone at the Herald’s Rest. A game of wicked grace and drinks are the theme for the night. Varric had even cajoled Cullen and Cassandra into joining us. Leliana and Dorian were there when I arrived, waving frantically for me to come to sit with them. I nod at them and head to the bar for a drink.

“So, what’s the mood tonight?” I ask Cabot as I waited for his usual one-word answer.

“Preposterous,” He says, smirking. He never disappoints.

I headed over to the table and sat down next to Dorian, sporting a new silk apricot scarf. “That color suits you,” I say, giving him a friendly smile.

“It rather brings out my eyes, I think.” He states, smiling back, “It would be in bad form to refuse to wear such a lovely gift. Thank you.”

I had caught him eyeing up the scarf at the crossroads vendor, and after he left, I bought it for him. I thought it might cheer him up after his meeting with his father. I knew he would never buy it for himself as he was trying to refrain from the excesses he was used to in Tevinter.
Cassandra saunters in with Cullen and Varric. Everyone grabs a chair and pulls in around the table.

“We need 13 chairs,” Cassandra instructs. So we push two tables together to accommodate the large group. I notice that Cole, Iron Bull and
Sera have wandered in. Blackwall enters a few minutes later, followed by Vivienne. To be honest, I’m surprised she even showed up.

“So, where is our illustrious ambassador?” I ask, smiling.

“You know those ambassador types they like to be fashionably late,” quips Leliana grinning.

I grin back at her and take a sip of my flagon. Iron Bull walks over from where he was hanging with the Chargers and smirks, “If she isn’t here in ten minutes, I’m going to get her, if she’s ready or not.”

I giggle at the thought of Josephine being thrown over Iron Bull’s shoulder and carted into the tavern. I would pay ten sovereigns to see that!

However, Josephine shows up in 4 minutes and settles in the chair next to Iron Bull, “so disappointing,” I snicker to Dorian. He grins evilly back at me.

The first round goes relatively smoothly, with Varric winning the game.
Cullen lost, so he had to buy the next round of drinks. Cullen heads up to the bar as Cassandra deals the cards. As Cullen is up at the bar, he leans over, giving a fantastic view of his gluteus maximus. I elbow Dorian gently, and he follows my gaze.

Cullen must have felt our gazes and turns around, seeing two of us eye him up like prime rib. He scowls at the two of us and chides. “Really, you two are awful!”

Dorian and I look at each other and say in tandem, “Well, it really is a nice ass.” We chuckle and high-five each other, which causes everyone else to laugh, except Vivienne.

Vivienne looks at the two of us and sneers in her best, hoity-toity voice. “Dorian, I would expect that from you, but from the Inquisitor, it is in bad form.”

I shrug, not really caring what Miss-nose-in-the-air-mistress-to-married-man thinks of me. Sera, however, is galled, “What because she is “inquisitor” now” she air quotes, “She is expected not to be human. She is no different than the rest of us even you are a “mistress” to Duke Bastien de Ghislain. Besides, it’s a nice ass if you’re into parts.”

Vivienne looks over at Sera for a moment before her gaze moves over to Cullen, still leaning on the bar. She decides to drop the smug façade and relaxes a bit. “Well, as long as you don’t act such in noble circles, I would say … it is a nice ass as well.”

“Well then…that is settled,” Dorian says cheekily.

“Who would have thought…?” I start saying out loud in amazement. I stop as soon as I realize that I’m speaking out loud. Everyone knew what I was thinking; who would have thought the ice queen could even understand the concept of relaxing for a moment. To say the group is shocked would be putting it mildly.

Dorian and I grin at each other like idiots.

“To Cullen’s great ass!” I toast in jest.

Everyone falls into a fit of laughter and toasts.

Cullen, hearing every word, turns from the bar, red-faced. Seeing everyone laugh and toast, he shakes his head and chuckles. “Oh, what the hell, I’ll drink to that,” he says, raising his flagon.