The day had been long and Varric was, despite himself, completely exhausted. He'd argued with merchants, argued in letters, and even argued with himself about how silly all the arguing was. The plan had been: go to tavern, have watered down ale, beat someone at cards maybe, and sleep. It was simple.

Easy, even.

Then Merrill just drops herself right into the seat across from him, happy as a clam, and--

Well, Varric was surprised. Extremely surprised. He almost dropped the tankard in his hand but, as a bit of ale sloshed over the rim and narrowly missed his leg, he caught himself and set it down. The moment he snapped out of it, he was grinning ear to ear.

"Daisy! You're here?" Varric asked, probably more loudly than was strictly necessary, but it wasn't like she was Blondie. No reason to keep it on the hush-hush, at least not at the moment. "How did they drag you up here? Did you come by yourself?"