#thiedas

having foolishly attempted to keep his head down and his face concealed by any patrons within the bar, it's frustrating to hear a whisper on his left confirming his presence and his name. i know you. at first, sebastian imagines it's someone who knows his face in passing (perhaps someone he did business with, someone who he fought, someone who caused problems for his employer), but when he tilts his head and spies the face of the woman looming close to his side, he's shocked to see noora staring back at him. noora hawke, of all people, looks completely out of place in a shithole like this, her wide eyes staring at him like she's seen a ghost. and maybe, in a way, she has. "oh. hawke. it's you. i owe you money." maker, what bad timing. the man coughs into his cloaked arm and extends his other hand for her to shake, hoping this greeting will go smoothly. "how much gold do i owe you?" he goes on, face turning as cheeky and charming as he can muster. around them, the bar continues its busy merriment and evening celebrations. someone sloshes an ale nearby, spilling on the floor beside sebastian's feet, and he lifts his boot to prop it on the footrest of his stool before returning to noora's eyes. "i wasn't expecting to see you so soon, but it's... despite this awkward way to meet, it is good to see you, believe it or not." a little smile crosses his face. he's praying she's not mad at him. "how have you been? let me just..." a hand dives past his cloak as he tries to hunt for his coinpurse. "... get you what i owe. one moment."

reflexively, her spine straightens — a hand going to the aforementioned new hairstyle binding back her golden curls. her self - consciousness possessed no ounce of insecurity; only an acute awareness of his attention. with it comes a small smile, head tipping. "do you like it?" adopting her offhand, flirtatious tone, she angles herself more fully towards him. he would blush, surely, or clear his throat in that nervous manner he had. that's what she was after, anyway. "it seemed the most practical choice, short of chopping it off," because she would sooner die than be inelegant; it had taken rising with the sun to begin the process of braiding her hair & pinning it up. a darkspawn had gotten hold of her loose braid on the road from lothering as they journeyed toward redcliffe & it had proven most distressing. not to mention inconvenient. "though it seems rather plain..."

she sways gently from side to side, like a leaf caught in a soft breeze. ❝ maybe you should've given me that warning right from the start, huh?   ❞ she teases lightly, ❝ 'cause i'm afraid its already a little too late for that now.   ❞ to drive the point home, she brings her fingers close together, a hair's breadth apart. ❝ i'm in love with you, robin hawke.   ❞ she confesses, ❝ and there isn't anythin' you can do or say that'll change my mind now.   ❞

@thiedas (bellara) liked for a rook

SO BRIGHT, : THAT GOLDEN GAZE. it focuses upon him, ( a quick look over his figure to make sure he remained unharmed ) veins fueled still with droplets of adrenaline. ... when it was certain all threats were eliminated, only then does a golden flash of light allow her weapon to fade into thin air. ❝ of that, i have no doubts of. ❞ she began, pausing only for a moment as she shifts her body to fully face his. ❝ but you'll have to excuse that i was compelled to step in either way. ❞ a hint of lighthearted tune woven into her voice, corner of her lip twitching upwards into a faint smirk. EVER SIGNATURE OF YOU, HERO ; not being able to turn your back on a fight.