Chapter Text
The rafters were the quietest place in the tavern. Albeit no part of the tavern was completely quiet, but there was a distinct difference between the bar and the attic even in terms of temperature. The lower floors were warm, heated by busy bodies keeping together and merry with nice alcohols while the attic, leading to the ramparts, tended to have a cool air breezing through it. Both could be equally comforting and disconcerting depending on the host.
Cole usually preferred to stay within the hustle and bustle of business around the rest of Skyhold. With large crowds, it was much easier to dip into existence whenever he found an opportunity to push some comforting nostalgia to the forefront of a dying soldier’s mind or replace supplies where it had been lost. He wasn't seen unless he was needed, didn't need to be anywhere unless spoken of first. For the most part, he was ultimately in charge of when and where he allowed himself to exist. Yet since joining the inquisition’s inner circle, he had been told he should have a solid place to be found should he be needed by name.
The attic only became his “home” after he lost touch with his fade-bound side in favor of humanity.
So being in the tavern itself was, needless to say, a large shift in environments.
"To our new friend for the night! C'mon, Cole!" Iron bull cheered heartily, raising his mug high in the air. The rest of the Chargers followed suit with enthusiasm and, per usual, their merriment tended to have an effect on the rest of the tavern. A scarce patron here and there lifted their glasses as well to join in, though Cole had a feeling half of them (including the Chargers) didn't even know what they were toasting for.
He stared down at the drink in his hands, unsure of what to do with it.
"That alright, there?" Asked a voice more gentle than the others. Cole looked over just as a hand landed on his shoulder. He recognized the man speaking to him from conversation with the Bull, but he hadn't the chance to speak with him personally. Not very much.
"Oh yes," Cole immediately answered, "it's just fine. The bartender was very pleased with it this morning. It is... from a different brewery than usual, from his new daughter in-law's family; he didn't think th--"
"Easy there, boy," Krem laughed and held up his hands, effectively cutting him off. But it didn't feel rude. "Good for him, great 'n all, but I'm asking your taste, not his. Chief said this was your first drink."
He stared at him blankly. "I haven't tasted it yet," Cole answered, turning the drink around and simply watching the amber circle about. "The Iron Bull drinks as celebration, when he's happy. His men are happy too. But there are some people in here who drink when they are sad. It--dulls the pain, makes it so they can't think about it too much. I am not happy, nor am I sad, so I have no reason to drink here."
It made perfect sense to him, but from the muddled feeling of confusion he could feel wafting off of the mercenary, he could tell they hadn't met the full way. The way he described his thought process caught Krem off guard, and Cole waited for him to speak first.
Krem simply laughed, shaking his head as he took a seat next to the spirit. "You're a weird guy, you know that?"
"Lots of people say so," He said matter of factly with a nod, not bothered. Cole watched as Krem brought his own flask to his mouth, head tilting back as he took a large swig of alcohol. He gave a short, blunt shake of his head after with a disgusted sigh. It seemed like it had a hard time going down and Krem nearly looked dissatisfied with it, but said nothing. "Do people say that you're weird?"
"Not anymore," came his immediate answer. "They're a mercenary group, but the Chargers have a good way of protecting their own. Sometimes more than their target." A pause to take another drink before eventually setting the cup aside altogether. Cole had his full attention. "Now the most slack I get's my heritage, and I give 'em that too."
Cole gave no acknowledgement that he'd even heard Krem speaking. Once the 'vint finished, the blond boy opted instead to direct his attention back to the flask at hand, dipping a finger in experimentally. Krem watched as Cole brought the wet finger to his lips, tentatively slipping it between his lips. His face puckered momentarily, and opening his mouth, Krem expected Cole to comment on the taste.
"Dorian likes Tevinter still. Why don't you?"
So he had been paying attention. Krem had to give him that. Curious as the delay was, he responded nonetheless. "Tevinter doesn't like me--"
"They don't like him very much either," Cole intersected, cutting him off.
Krem had to laugh at that. "A lot of people don't. And yet somehow, the chief does. A lot." He picked up his drink to down another swig before continuing. This time, though, Cole's eyes were fixed on him. A bit uneasily, he'd add. "Dorian still has an attachment to his family there, his past. All I've gots' some bad memories, at most some nostalgia. Nothin’ too friendly--what are you doing?”
He’d gotten distracted while speaking when he turned to actually look at Cole. He wasn't sure why he'd expected a normal conversation. The boy was making some kind of… warped face, sticking his own hand inside of his mouth with as calm an expression he always wore. As soon as Krem brought attention to it, he stopped and dropped his wet fingers in his lap, shrugging. “Varric said to grab my mouth when I wanted to help somebody while they were speaking.”
It took him a moment before Krem smirked. “Let me guess--he told you to hold your tongue?”
Cole nodded earnestly. “Right. It’s ill-mannered to interrupt people, even if they need it.” He sounded like a child trying to teach another something they had learned, though obviously reciting the words straight from a parent’s mouth. The more he thought on the analogy, the more it seemed to fit Cole and Varric, as comical as it was with their appearances.
“Well he’s right about something." Varric swung by every now and then to talk bad on their current tavern, talking up some other bar back in Kirkwall instead. Krem figured he must've been much more interesting then, less broody, but figured the guy was alright. Didn't expect him to take to teaching their dear demon the ways of human manners. Manners from a dwarf--Krem snorted at the thought. "C’mon, drink up already.” Krem tapped his knuckles against the side of Cole’s tankard. He looked as if he’d nearly forgotten it, picking his drink back up on command and returning to his previous fun of staring blankly inside of it.
Krem was just about to give him another push when Cole suddenly brought the tankard to his lips, tilting it just enough for the ale to pour into his open mouth. He chuckled at the lack of reaction--that was somehow very like him, but Krem supposed that spirits weren’t very emotive to begin with. But at least the kid hadn’t spewed alcohol all over the tavern and wasted a good drink.
He lifted his own mug to take a gulp before turning to check on his companion--only to see he was still going.
Cole only tilted his tankard slightly higher every few seconds, taking the drink very calmly. His tolerance was impressive, but no one just drank such hard alcohol straight up. And so unceremoniously, either. Others were starting to take notice as well. The Chargers began to lower their own drinks as they realized what was happening and Iron Bull in particular seemed thrilled; Krem hadn’t seen him grin like that since the last time Grim mistook a dummy for a companion and threw Dalish over the wall into the courtyard during practice.
Krem, on the other hand, was stunned longer, given their previous conversation. From what he’d heard, Cole had trouble with eating simple meals. To be chugging an entire pint of ale--very strong ale--was definitely… something.
When Cole lowered the mug from his lips, all eyes were on him as he brought up a sleeve to wipe a few drips from his mouth. It took him a moment to acknowledge his sudden spotlight.
The room exploded before he got a chance to say anything.
“Look at you, kid!” Iron Bull roared, laughter ringing higher than anyone else in the room. A couple of the chargers were doubled over in absolute hysteria, others simply slapping their knee while trying to get anything like a laugh out. A good majority of the tavern had caught on by now as well, and those who remembered who the boy was joined in on adding to the din with their own amused cheers.
Krem couldn’t help but to erupt in a fit of hilarity as well, slapping a hand over Cole’s shoulder for something to hold onto. The latter looked nothing less than dumbfounded for the reaction he had caused. All it was was a simple drink, wasn't it? And as far as he knew, he'd done so just like the rest. Unless he'd drunk somebody's else's, or did so at the wrong time, or...
Iron Bull nearly broke the table he was slamming his hand on. “Oh, just wait until Blackwall hears about this; Ponyboy’s sure to shit his breeches!”
The entire tavern laughed along with him, everyone else simply joining in for mood’s sake. Most of them were probably too drunk to know what was happening anyways. Still, Krem was put at ease for the first time in forever, what with how tight everyone had been recently and, well, just about always. A good laugh here and there was never taken for granted when they could get one when--
“Krem,” Cole’s small voice caught his attention and Krem turned to meet his eye only to be put off by how… not-merry the boy appeared. His still sullen face and wide eyes were a quick way to sober up, and the tug on his armor only reinforced it. “I feel a bit… odd. Like I’m back in the Fade.”
"...in the Fade?"
"Everything uncertain, everything moving, watching, turn and its different the next, light like I could take off and yet I... can't."
If he wasn't sober before, he was now. “Whoa there, big guy, let’s keep our head out of the clouds--or Veil.” Krem shook his head, hurriedly helping Cole to stand with an arm under his shoulders. It was hard not to pay any mind to the teammates laughing at his back, but the weak spirit in his care required more attention. “Don’t pull any demon shit on me, alright? Feet on the ground.” He nodded in agreement.
Krem could tell the tavern was returning to its usual mildness as they proceeded upstairs, the event quickly losing interest as most things concerning the spirit boy did. In all honesty, he was walking just fine on his own, but something about the look in his eye--that and Krem felt it was better to trust when a demon said they were feeling bad. The less damage the better.
It didn’t hit him till they were halfway around the second floor. “Say, Cole… haven’t you got a bed anywhere?”
“I didn’t need to sleep until recently… the cats are kind enough to share theirs with me.”
“Oh, for the Maker’s--come on, we’re turning ‘round. You’ve got yourself first class reservations with the Chargers tonight…”
It wasn't the best or most fashionable of places, one he was sure that certain members of the Inquisition would draw formal complaints over, but Krem had a feeling that it'd be better quarters than the rogue was used to... Thinking on it, where had this guy come from? He hadn't ever heard anything about his background for as... unique as he was.
Cole didn't put up any restraint for whatever reason as Krem turned them around and started off towards the stairs again. Not that it mattered; as long as there wasn't any resistance, Krem had no problems toting him around. At least not for one night.