Alright, so Astrid is Ms Moneybags here - message received. Hermione is not so proud as to not take the coin when offered, and make her way to the barkeep to pay Avdig's tab. Some of it, anyway, though not all - the man will return tomorrow.
As she watches the barkeep make a whole spectacle of counting the coin, she can feel the looks she is getting from the two dwarves now sitting at the bar - previously from the table.
"She's not exactly his type, is she?" one of the dwarves mutters - partly to Hermione. "Never seen him with one of the tall folk."
Hermione doesn't want the cover to be blown, even if the cover is shaky, so she scrambles mentally for a quick response. Physically, however, she shrugs one shoulder casually. "Doesn't matter if she's not your type, does it? If you're hers...she has a way to change your mind."
Merlin, what's the name Astrid has? She keeps repeating to herself don't call her Astrid.
"That so? And dwarves are...her type?" This question from the other dwarf, who is stroking his beard with interest.
Nope, she's not turning this into some bachelorette chase across Tevinter. Objectively, yes, Astrid is pretty. Attractive. Tall, even. Certainly impressive, and worthy of attention, and all that - but not from their contact's friends (sources?)!
She whips her head over to said friends of Avdig and snaps, "She's taken." She catches the barkeep pocket the coins from the corner of her eyes, and flicks her hair over her shoulder haughtily, turning away to go back to the table. "And it's short people in general. Not that it matters, I'm not the sharing kind."
Kill her now.
Moments later, she's back at the table to pick Avdig up from the other side and nods quickly to Astrid's suggestion. "Yes, for sure, let's make haste though because I may have unintentionally made you up to be a prized catch for his friends." A beat, and more rushed, "Also implied your my - erm - romance partner?" squeaky at the end.
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As she watches the barkeep make a whole spectacle of counting the coin, she can feel the looks she is getting from the two dwarves now sitting at the bar - previously from the table.
"She's not exactly his type, is she?" one of the dwarves mutters - partly to Hermione. "Never seen him with one of the tall folk."
Hermione doesn't want the cover to be blown, even if the cover is shaky, so she scrambles mentally for a quick response. Physically, however, she shrugs one shoulder casually. "Doesn't matter if she's not your type, does it? If you're hers...she has a way to change your mind."
Merlin, what's the name Astrid has? She keeps repeating to herself don't call her Astrid.
"That so? And dwarves are...her type?" This question from the other dwarf, who is stroking his beard with interest.
Nope, she's not turning this into some bachelorette chase across Tevinter. Objectively, yes, Astrid is pretty. Attractive. Tall, even. Certainly impressive, and worthy of attention, and all that - but not from their contact's friends (sources?)!
She whips her head over to said friends of Avdig and snaps, "She's taken." She catches the barkeep pocket the coins from the corner of her eyes, and flicks her hair over her shoulder haughtily, turning away to go back to the table. "And it's short people in general. Not that it matters, I'm not the sharing kind."
Kill her now.
Moments later, she's back at the table to pick Avdig up from the other side and nods quickly to Astrid's suggestion. "Yes, for sure, let's make haste though because I may have unintentionally made you up to be a prized catch for his friends." A beat, and more rushed, "Also implied your my - erm - romance partner?" squeaky at the end.