[ Whenever it is, Alistair will be there in a corner, building a small tower out of the discarded mugs left by the people who had the table before him. ]
[ And Kitty will show up at the appointed time, right on time. The moment she shows up, though, she lets out a disapproving cluck - though not directed at Alistair. ]
Dirty mugs! Left on the table! I swear, this place falls apart when I don't have a shift.
[ And then she lets out a little laugh. She knows from observation and eavesdropping that drink isn't Alistair's vice - quips, one of the recruits had lamented, that's what he can't resist, quipping - and so she feels confident enough making this joke. ]
Unless they're all yours, of course.
[ And then she draws herself up onto the chair opposite him. In order to see over the table, she has to kneel on the seat, but it's fine because it puts her head right at the right level and so the other person forgets her height when they're both sitting. ]
The cheese is completely free of charge. Though that'd be quite the trick, wouldn't it - oh, admirable milord, we're so grateful to you, oh, what would you like more than anything else - Wait, what do you mean, you thought it was a gift?
[ Then her grin broadens. ]
If you'd like, though, you can come work with us here at the tavern. You look very good at reaching high shelves.
Oh, I am. Killing darkspawn and reaching tall things are my only two talents. I never thought I could do anything with it, but I've never seen an establishment with so many dwarves, either.
[ He taps the table with one finger, absent and thoughtful, and then takes apart his small tower to begin building a new one. ]
[ She lets her smile dim just a little bit, and lowers her head and pushes her hair to the side like there's some hidden sadness behind this answer. Like it's hard for her to give. She makes herself sound just a little hesitant, just a touch tentative - but only a little bit, because she also needs to sound like she's someone who's chipper and optimistic in spite of it all. Brave-and-a-little-wounded-and-good-natured-and-not-willing-to-let-herself-be-dragged-down-by-dark-memories - that's the effect she's going for. ]
And the tall walls. And the many, many very competent soldiers. It's not an easy life out there for a girl with a pony-cart, even a very clever and resourceful one. Even with the threat from Corypheus, it's safer here, in Skyhold - especially since in an emergency, I know the tavern's going to be the best-defended building. The Inquisition likes its wine.
[ She gives a little laugh and, very genuinely - not in an effort to manipulate or anything, in genuine kindness - ]
Disallowed. You'd share bedding with the rest of us. If you were working here, we'd take care of you, same as anyone else. [ And then, with a grin: ] Besides, you look like you'd be big and warm - a nice radiator to have nearby.
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[ Whenever it is, Alistair will be there in a corner, building a small tower out of the discarded mugs left by the people who had the table before him. ]
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Dirty mugs! Left on the table! I swear, this place falls apart when I don't have a shift.
[ And then she lets out a little laugh. She knows from observation and eavesdropping that drink isn't Alistair's vice - quips, one of the recruits had lamented, that's what he can't resist, quipping - and so she feels confident enough making this joke. ]
Unless they're all yours, of course.
[ And then she draws herself up onto the chair opposite him. In order to see over the table, she has to kneel on the seat, but it's fine because it puts her head right at the right level and so the other person forgets her height when they're both sitting. ]
Anyway. Hi. You're Warden Alistair. I'm Kitty.
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[ She is lucky she won't actually fit in any of his various pockets or pouches. ]
I wish they were mine. I'm near out of coin. Your friend isn't planning to charge me for that cheese, is she? I might need a second job.
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The cheese is completely free of charge. Though that'd be quite the trick, wouldn't it - oh, admirable milord, we're so grateful to you, oh, what would you like more than anything else - Wait, what do you mean, you thought it was a gift?
[ Then her grin broadens. ]
If you'd like, though, you can come work with us here at the tavern. You look very good at reaching high shelves.
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[ He taps the table with one finger, absent and thoughtful, and then takes apart his small tower to begin building a new one. ]
How much do they pay walking ladders here?
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[ She says that a little ruefully, but then flashes a grin at him. ]
Though the company of amazing coworkers has to be worth something.
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[ He's grinning back--not as brightly as he would with more sleep and fewer worries, but good enough. ]
Is that what has you barmaiding for the Inquisition? The good company?
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[ She lets her smile dim just a little bit, and lowers her head and pushes her hair to the side like there's some hidden sadness behind this answer. Like it's hard for her to give. She makes herself sound just a little hesitant, just a touch tentative - but only a little bit, because she also needs to sound like she's someone who's chipper and optimistic in spite of it all. Brave-and-a-little-wounded-and-good-natured-and-not-willing-to-let-herself-be-dragged-down-by-dark-memories - that's the effect she's going for. ]
And the tall walls. And the many, many very competent soldiers. It's not an easy life out there for a girl with a pony-cart, even a very clever and resourceful one. Even with the threat from Corypheus, it's safer here, in Skyhold - especially since in an emergency, I know the tavern's going to be the best-defended building. The Inquisition likes its wine.
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That's good thinking. Maybe I should move in here instead. What's the policy on sleeping under the tables?
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Disallowed. You'd share bedding with the rest of us. If you were working here, we'd take care of you, same as anyone else. [ And then, with a grin: ] Besides, you look like you'd be big and warm - a nice radiator to have nearby.
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[ More or less. ]
How old are you?
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Seventeen.
[ And then, for some reason she doesn't wholly understand, she feels impelled to add: ]
Plenty old.