He studies Aden for a moment. Weird, that. Nice that he doesn't have to think that hard to go over it, that at least the unknowns which come along with people are the kind that he has tools for; most people, that kind of happiness would stick around, linger on their face for a while. Faking all that warmth for the husband's sake? Could be. Enough to make a guy wonder what kind of emotion's underneath it, since that's maybe what happiness looks like on him and the emotion isn't sticking around, whether he's helping the Bull out because he wants to or because of something else. Except the shitting Fade dropped the Bull here and he thought it back on that carriage-train but he knows it now: the Iron Bull's never going to see his home again.
Any of the mages, Dorian, Vivienne, maybe even Solas, whatever he's up to these days, maybe they could have figured something out, dropped on their asses out here. They never minded all that Fade shit the way they should. Mostly just made them curious. Dorian and Solas, they'd get all excited, figure out some way to research something and find a way back. Vivienne might try some of that manoeuvring for position first, but she knows her stuff. She'd come here with something. But he's the one who's here. It's just him.
If Aden's up to something, it probably doesn't matter. Not going to hurt anyone if he is. Just some exile no one here would give half a shit about even if they knew him. Exile twice over, and alone with it this time. Dust again; the Iron Bull without his crew doesn't feel like it should hold its shape.
He sets the glass down on the nearest surface. It goes down a little harder than he meant it to, the noise loud, the maybe-whiskey inside sloshing up the sides. He frowns at the glass for a couple seconds and then he lets go of it, the movement of his hand away slow and deliberate, and he tilts his chin up in a nod at Aden.
Enough of this shit. There's fighting to do.
"Whatever you want, I can make it work. You might be better off leaving me barehanded. Didn't have a weapon last time I had to fight some of that weird Fade crap though, and that one was a pain in the ass." And then, needing to fill his head up with something that isn't this, or maybe just wanting to talk like for a second things are normal, or maybe just wanting to find out whether Aden's emotion there was real -- Hissrad's soul might be dust to the Qun now but the stuff that made him good at the undercover Ben-Hassrath thing never seemed to get the message, so sometimes whys are hard to figure out -- he goes with the urge to chat and finds himself saying, "So, husband seems nice. Seems pretty used to worrying about you."
no subject
Any of the mages, Dorian, Vivienne, maybe even Solas, whatever he's up to these days, maybe they could have figured something out, dropped on their asses out here. They never minded all that Fade shit the way they should. Mostly just made them curious. Dorian and Solas, they'd get all excited, figure out some way to research something and find a way back. Vivienne might try some of that manoeuvring for position first, but she knows her stuff. She'd come here with something. But he's the one who's here. It's just him.
If Aden's up to something, it probably doesn't matter. Not going to hurt anyone if he is. Just some exile no one here would give half a shit about even if they knew him. Exile twice over, and alone with it this time. Dust again; the Iron Bull without his crew doesn't feel like it should hold its shape.
He sets the glass down on the nearest surface. It goes down a little harder than he meant it to, the noise loud, the maybe-whiskey inside sloshing up the sides. He frowns at the glass for a couple seconds and then he lets go of it, the movement of his hand away slow and deliberate, and he tilts his chin up in a nod at Aden.
Enough of this shit. There's fighting to do.
"Whatever you want, I can make it work. You might be better off leaving me barehanded. Didn't have a weapon last time I had to fight some of that weird Fade crap though, and that one was a pain in the ass." And then, needing to fill his head up with something that isn't this, or maybe just wanting to talk like for a second things are normal, or maybe just wanting to find out whether Aden's emotion there was real -- Hissrad's soul might be dust to the Qun now but the stuff that made him good at the undercover Ben-Hassrath thing never seemed to get the message, so sometimes whys are hard to figure out -- he goes with the urge to chat and finds himself saying, "So, husband seems nice. Seems pretty used to worrying about you."