The time that passed after her confrontation with Varric allowed Cassandra think about the situation with a more leveled head. While Hawke could have became inquisitor, she could have just as easily died at the Conclave, like the Trevelyan pointed out. There was no point to wondering what may have happened; things were the way they were and there was no changing them. Besides, Inquisitor Trevelyan was a more than competent leader, while Hawke’s skills were…debatable. The Dwarf was prone to extravagant lies.
When she thought about it, Cassandra realized she hand’t even seen Hawke yet. She was too busy yelling at the one how hid Hawke from her. She didn’t know if the woman lived up Varric’s…more likely romanticized tales. Varric had accused her of it when he told her the story of Hawke battling the Arishok to save at-the-time lover Isabela, but she would never admit that she had developed a case of hero worship. The tales of her deeds were just impressive, and her romantic nature left her wanting to helieve them.
Cassandra found her feet leading her towards Herald’s Rest where Hawke resided to finally sate her curiousity about the woman. Sitting at the tavern’s bar was Hawke in her Champion Armor, her two daggers on her back…
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