He tried to imagine Hawke without a beard and it was as strange as imagining his own face without vallaslin. It just didn’t make any sense.
"You have my word," Lavellan said, without hesitation. It was an easy favor to grant. "If I remember this, I’ll send for him. We could really use your brother’s help with the Wardens." The alliance was shaky at best. He didn’t regret the decision to leave Stroud in the Fade, difficult as that had been, but it also meant that the Inquisition had no formal ambassador to the order. Carver would go a long way in repairing that, given everything that happened with Blackwall.
The elf pushed the now empty glass away from him, shifting his weight back onto his heels. "I’ll let you get back to work." He’d had his fill of the tavern anyway. There was only so much of a crowded, enclosed space that he could handle before he started getting twitchy again. Lavellan had plenty of new arrows to craft before the night was over, and he still planned to steal one of Dorian’s books on his way out. Never pass up an opportunity to harass the mage.