romdeau | a fishing date;

"She'd be furious with me for putting up with it. In that instance, she'd have a right to be. I'm fine with anyone I see not liking her or not wanting her in our business. I don't want her in our business. I'm not fine with being seen as someone's lapdog." The disrespect on both sides of it would inevitably spill over and cause public issues in such a case.

"Fair enough. I'll stop worrying before I really start. You wouldn't be who you are if you weren't out there doing what you do. I happen to like who you are. I don't think that's going to change." It was still a little hard to believe that they had moved forward with very little fuss or effort on either of their parts. He wasn't used to things going smoothly. The chemistry between them had surprised him, too. He felt a small twinge of heat thinking about it, a little something of that showing in his expression.

"You're nothing close to a lapdog." If he'd done everything Meredith told him to, Hawke (and several of her companions) would probably already be in prison for harboring and aiding apostates on multiple accounts. Meredith would never have dreamed of naming her Champion, even if she had defeated the Arishok. "I don't think I've seen any of the Templars jump at the chance to go down on bended knee for her. She doesn't seem the type to want it." Meredith commanded respect simply by being who she was. That was all she seemed to need.

She did her best not to look quite so pleased to hear that, though there was little point in hiding it. "It's a valid concern, you know, but I'll never be gone too long if I can help it. I can try to send word every now and again, if you'd like." So long as he didn't ask what she would be doing, she didn't mind telling him she'd be gone. Her smile broadened and she couldn't resist reaching out to set her hand to his cheek at the telltale hint of that blush.

"There are some." He chuckled. "Just like there are some who privately think she can do nothing right, and of course they'd be a better choice for being in charge. They're not stupid enough to put it in such blunt terms, but you can see it. I believe things like that come with the territory of chain of command. It was no different under Knight-Commander Gregoir."

He smiled warmly and brushed his fingers along the back of her hand. "A little 'I'm still alive and not floating face down somewhere in the harbor' now and then wouldn't be unappreciated. I don't want to keep tabs on you. I'd be lying if I said I won't worry if I don't hear from you at least semi-regularly. I'll do the same."

"You'll always have them," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Give them something especially hard to do and let them crack under the pressure. It might not make them appreciate the work other people do but you'll at least be entertained by the situation." Or they'd rise to the occasion and impress him. Either way, it was win-win.

She chuckled. "If I'm missing for a week and a half with no word at all whatsoever, then you can start worrying. I'm in the Gallows enough that over a week would warrant suspicion." She paused. "Just don't make my search party the 'especially hard' job for one of your recruits. I'd hate to have to rescue them instead and bring them home for you. It would be thoroughly embarrassing."

"It's a tempting thought. I can't say I haven't considered it, but they do tend to frown on commanding officers breaking the troops. They have their uses no matter how well they think of themselves or how unrealistic the assessment." He did his best to be fair to his people whether he liked them or not.

That had him laughing. "If I'm that worried, I might just come after you myself. I still owe you for that save when we first met." That wouldn't be the reason. He knew it as he said it. Before he could blurt something ridiculous to that effect, he was up and moving again. "Are you hungry? I think I want an apple."

"And this is why you're the benevolent Knight-Captain and I'm the Hawke girl from Hightown," she said with a smile. "This might also be why I don't have a formal job in the city." She'd be more of a nuisance than she already was, no matter where she ended up.

She stretched out as he stood, her toes curling. Satisfied, she folded her hands behind her head. "You don't owe me anything, though I wouldn't say no to your presence. Check the mine first if I disappear. I'll probably be stuck in a cave in, playing cards with myself until someone digs me out." She waved a hand briefly. "I'm fine, thanks.

"Benevolent. Oh, that has a lovely ring. I think I'll have that mounted above my door," he teased, shooting her a grin over his shoulder.

"You're the Champion. You don't need a formal job." He dug in the pack in the dry well until he found one of the small golden apples. He buffed it against his shirt and took a bite, turning back to face her. "In that case, I'll bring a pickax and some spare coin. Hate to waste a good card game."

He dropped the teasing for a moment. "Be careful in that mine. I know I've already said it, but... Look, I'm not superstitious. Some places have the reputation they have for a reason."

She sent him a sly look, grinning briefly. "Or embroidered on your tunic somewhere at the bottom." He and Isabela would match if she ever got that 'Felicitate Me' on hers. She tried to suppress her smirk at the thought.

"I went almost three years without a job. Can you imagine? And I still wanted to work." But odd jobs are odd jobs and she'd do them anyway. It was exciting to be in the thick of things, made her blood boil when she fought or when she was defending her home. And it gave her a much needed advantage over everything else. She was a little like Varric at heart, always wanting to keep her eyes on what was going on. She did it for her family, though, not for gold.

She laughed. "'Come pull up a rock, Cullen, I'm about to beat myself at cards.' Yes, I can see it now." Her head tilted to the side and she watched him, smile still there despite his tone. If she didn't deal with problems, someone less capable would, and she'd just blame herself for their misfortune. "Like a place called the 'Gallows', hm?" But she relented, nodding. "I'll be careful. There are good people in that mine. I don't want anything to happen to them."

"Something to confuse looters when they come to pick clean my body? 'Ey! You think we should've killed this guy? It says here benev--benevo-- I think he was a nice guy, Bruiser.'" He took a seat leaning against the mainmast, close to where he had been before, just on the center bench now.

"It bothered me how many people were scraping for work. Still are, although that's finally starting to ease a little. It never seemed to me you were running short on things to do." Whether all of those things were strictly legal was a different matter. Strictly legal in Kirkwall always seemed to be something of a fuzzy line.

"The Gallows deserves its reputation. You realize you're making my case for me?" He shook his head. "The only difference is we tend to know the shape of the problems coming our way day to day, and as far as I know there aren't any hidden depths or dungeons breeding nameless horrors. Then again, this is Kirkwall. The whole city could be sitting on top of something like that."

He took another bite of his apple and quickly caught the juice with the side of his hand. He waited until he had swallowed to say anything more. "Fereldans, yes. I'm glad you took that over. They'll get a better shake from you than that Orlesian weasel."

That got a good laugh out of her at the thought, enough to make her aware that she'd had more to drink tonight than she'd had in a while. She wasn't far gone enough to be tipsy, instead dangling on that pleasant edge of blithe and unguarded. She shot him a smile for it once she recovered. "And you tell good jokes. I'm so glad I picked the Templar with a sense of humor."

Her smile didn't quite falter when she shrugged, standing to stretch out her legs and to walk carefully in the small space they had. "I had a reputation for doing anything. I got work because people knew I'd work without complaint." She didn't advise other Fereldans - or anyone, for that matter - to follow in her footsteps. It just wasn't safe to be that desperate.

"If Kirkwall is built on top of some ancient burial ground or caves breeding monsters, then I'm washing my hands of the place and sailing out on the first boat. Even I have to draw a line somewhere." Oh, if only that were true. She had to take a pause before speaking again, distracted for just a moment as he almost spilled. "But the mine is safe for now. Every few weeks or so, we clean it out again and everyone's happy."

"I like to think everyone has their moments now and then." His shrug was more nonchalant than he felt. It was nice to hear that complement. He never had considered himself particularly witty. He didn't usually relax enough with anyone to allow that side to come out. "It helps when the company is good."

He examined his apple in the moonlight, turning it to see where best to bite next. Glancing back up he said, "There's nothing wrong with that. You helped keep food on the table and took advantage of a good opportunity when it finally came along. Since then you haven't just lorded your good fortune and efforts over everyone else. You've made a difference. Anyone who has something negative to say about that had best be a paragon of industry and charity for it to hold any water."

He laughed and pointed, gesturing with the apple still in hand. "Liar. You'll be running down the first dark tunnel before the dust from its exposure settles."

"Funny and a flatterer," she teased gently, her smile turning more genuine. She went up on her toes, one foot at a time, her eyes drifting from the view of the moon back to him as he spoke.

She didn't usually like extended compliments. They were nice, made her feel needed and important, but too much of them invariably left her feeling a certain kind of exposure that felt too much like embarrassment. That, or she would normally begin to feel like someone was buttering her up. It was the former with him but still pleasant. She'd gone a long time believing she was as much of a thorn in his side as Aveline was. Her steps circled back around to where he was, her smile growing and a hint of red at the corners of her face from the verbal attention. "I do what I can. That's all."

He was being distracting again, especially with the way he was practically inviting that apple to her. "Guilty as charge, ser. And I wouldn't look back," she quipped. She waited until he thrust it outward before she grabbed for it and his hand, raising an eyebrow. Her smile curled at the edges. "You're practically teasing me with that, you know."

"I could've sworn it didn't count as flattery if it was true. Or something like that. No one ever sat me down and told me the rules." There was a definite teasing light in his eyes. The moonlight was bright enough for him to take note of the added flush. He counted it a small victory.

He held his hand still and kept a good grip on the apple. "Am I?" He hadn't intended it. That didn't mean he couldn't roll with it when it was pointed out to him. He gave a little tug to pull her closer, if she kept hold of it.

"Are you telling me you want a bite?" He kept his gaze locked to hers.

"Glowing praise, then, which will all go to my head. If you keep at it, my ego will be so inflated I might tip this boat over." Lies, obviously. If Varric's tall tales couldn't make her smug and insufferable, a little doting from Cullen wouldn't either.

Intentional or not, it had caught her eye the way something shiny might in a cave or darker dwelling. It didn't make her hungry necessarily, though she should have asked to find something for herself earlier, but it was too late to take it back. She liked the look in his eye and was pleased to see he was content to at least play along when the challenge was set.

It was too tempting to opt for her own. She let herself be tugged in, eyebrow raising, smile remaining. "Could I?"

"I'll balance it out with a disgusting excess of modesty. Between the two of us this boat will be the steadiest in the Waking Sea."

He arched a brow and made a show of having to think about it. "Are we negotiating?" He sat back and tugged again, his knees spread far enough to allow her to stand close. "Because I have to say this is a very good apple." He leaned his head forward and took a bite of it within the cradle of both of their hands, lips brushing her fingers.

"See, this is why you're here. Balance, wit, and very nice to look at."

Negotiating over half-eaten fruit. Her brow rose just a bit higher as she stepped closer and she tried her damnedest not to let too much of her amusement shine through. "I'm very good at bartering, I'll have you know." Whatever else she began to say was slightly derailed, attention drawn to his lips and to his eyes. For a man who was easy to get a blush out of, the looks he could give were at times so intense that they caught her off guard. Her smile was wicked as she suppressed the urge to shiver. "Name your asking price."

"That is how I made it into the order. On my looks. It was a prerequisite in Ferelden. You may have noticed the Marchers have different standards." His lips trembled with his fierce efforts not to break into a grin or laugh. He had to purse them slightly.

"I suppose we'll see," he said, almost sing song. "My opening bid...hmmm." He squinted in thought, gave her a sly glance from beneath his lashes, and patted his leg. "You should probably sit while we discuss this. It could take a while."

"Highly different standards," she said, voice low and almost conspiratorial. "I have heard, though, that the stick and the sense of entitlement is commonplace for Free Marchers. Is that true?"

Her free hand settled on her hip briefly. "You know, I believe my father once told me that if a handsome man told me to sit on his knee while we discussed trading, that I shouldn't trust him." She was hardly serious; the smile on her face said otherwise. She sat as he bade her just the same.

"That would be telling," he said, some of the laughter he had been holding back coming out. He couldn't totally throw over his brothers and sisters in arms, no matter how much the assessment fit some of them to the letter.

"Wise man, your father," he said, sliding his free arm around her waist. "Now...let's see. Something comparable for a bite of very good apple." He bounced his knee where she was seated while he thought about it, well aware he was being a brat. "I'm a generous sort. I could part with a bite for a kiss. It would have to be a good one."

She gave him what could have been a pout of her lips had it not been mostly twisted up in a grin. "Come on. If you don't tell me, I'm going to have to find out somehow." Isabela would probably find out for her. ...If she hadn't already. (She probably had.)

"Very wise," she concurred, knocking the tips of her toes gently against the side of his ankle in retaliation for the bounce. "'A good one', is it? That's rather subjective, don't you think?" She swung one of her legs up over his other knee, nearly stretching out as though he was an armchair of her own. A finger tapped thoughtfully against her bottom lip. "If I got a bite of the apple first..."

"I'm sure you have your ways. I'm not in the slightest bit worried that you don't, in fact." He couldn't resist meeting that grin with one of his own.

"As subjective as it is to say the apple is good," he countered. He shook his head, eyes shining with his amusement. "Oh, no. I wasn't born yesterday. Let me think..."

He lifted the apple for a small bite, more juice running. He caught it on his finger and waved it at her. "How about a small taste? If it's sweet enough for your liking, you'll know if it's worth the asking price." He didn't think he'd be nearly so bold in broad daylight. There was a certain advantage in knowing the heat rising in his cheeks wouldn't be blatantly obvious.

"That sounds like a challenge." One she would most assuredly take him up on when she found the opportunity.

"Which could also be a lie. I'm only taking your word for it because you seem like such an honest, generous man." She shrugged. "And if you keep eating it, there'll be little left for me to try." Any further rebuttal died on her lips, his boldness silencing her rather effectively. It was hardly a deterrent, however; her eyes were alight with interest and surprise both as her gaze flickered from his face to the finger he offered her.

She didn't give him the chance to change his mind. Taking his hand in hers, she dragged her tongue across the tip of his finger before taking it into her mouth.

"I don't think you back down from many of those, if any." It was something he had admired about her for some time now. He knew he wasn't alone in that.

He supposed he should have expected her to meet that as head on as she did other things. He shivered once, almost forgetting to chew and swallow the small bite of apple. The swallow was a bit harder and louder than entirely necessary. He watched her intently, his questions coming low. "What's the verdict? Worth the price?"

The proof to that statement was right in front of him. She didn't make much of a show of what she was doing, though she was certain to slide her tongue out once along the underside of his finger just to prove her point. That shiver did wonders, making her smile briefly before she released him.

She looked thoughtful, dragging out the charade only a little longer. "Hmm..." She swallowed, the taste clinging to her tongue, and nodded. Her eyes were fixed on his. "Yes, I believe it is." She lifted a hand to settle in on his cheek, waiting for him to be ready before she tugged him down into a waiting kiss.

A small part of him was amused at both of them, carrying on in such a way. It was a silly game but a fun one. When she drew him in, the amusement drifted away and left behind a small thrill of excitement. He realized that what they had done earlier had merely banked the fire, not quenched it.

As tempting as it was to push into the kiss and see if he could taste any of the apple on her tongue, he held back to let her direct it. It was part of the rules of the barter, after all. He felt a smile trying to form against the soft contours of her mouth and allowed it to come. Lifting a hand, he cupped her cheek lightly, the pads of his fingers curved inward and resting against her smooth skin.

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