"Your hat's starting to fall apart."

Cole felt a hand land gently on his head; a finger poked through a hole in the wide brim and wiggled in front of his pale eyes. He peeked owlishly out from under his scraggly blond hair at the smirking Inquisitor towering over him.

"I had not noticed," he mumbled, a note of distress in his voice. "I do not want it to fall apart."

"Don't worry, I can patch it up for you. I'm not half-bad at sewing, surprisingly." She plucked the hat off Cole's head, examining it closely. He shifted uncomfortably as she did so, unused to the sudden lightness on his crown and the feeling of nakedness that accompanied it. The tall Qunari woman paid no heed to Cole's discomfort, plopping down among the crates in the tavern attic. Upon closer inspection, Cole realized she had a small sewing kit in her hand.

"Do you carry that around with you?" he asked, confusion and curiosity clear in his tone.

"Nah, I noticed the hole in your hat the other day after we fought that dragon in the Hinterlands. I bought the kit in Val Royeaux yesterday morning." She smiled as she cut a small square of brown fabric. "I know how much you like that hat of yours."

"I like hats," he said simply, as if the fact needed to be clarified.

"I know you do. I've never been big on them myself, mostly because of these." She gestured to the curved horns protruding from her skull.

"That is why you wear the paint," he observed solemnly, referring to the toxic vitaar. He blinked slowly, seemingly mulling things over, before murmuring, "It is pretty, but not the same as a hat."

"Agreed." She dipped the tiny needle up and down. Her technique lacked the grace and poise of a proper seamstress; the tiny tool looked odd, almost humorous, in her large hands, where sharp daggers were normally clutched. Cole was fascinated by the sight all the same, and he watched the glint of the metal weave in between the Inquisitor's thick fingers. A beautiful irony, it appeared to him, that hands which so often ended lives could so tenderly save a dying hat. "There, that should do it. Well? What do you think?"

Cole carefully took his hat back, examining the new patch studiously. After a moment of gentle prodding and pressing, he gingerly placed the wide-brimmed hat on his head. "It's good. Thank you, Inquisitor."

At his praise, she seemed to glow in delight. Given, she always glowed to Cole. Due to the mark on her hand, she shined brightly, nearly blinding his view of her emotions. But at that moment, her happiness outshone the Anchor tenfold. The sudden burst of joy confused Cole to no end.

"I'm glad," she said, hardly able to contain her smile.

"Why?" Cole's prompt response caused the Inquisitor's grin to falter slightly. "What has made you so happy?"

"Well, you," she replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

"But I haven't done anything." Cole strove to make others happy, but he was wholly unused to causing happiness unknowingly.

"Of course you have, Cole." The Inquisitor stood and smiled fondly at him. "You work so hard to relieve the burdens of others. Someone needs to be there for you, or else you won't be able to do the things you do. Now, c'mon, Varric's been talking about another game of Wicked Grace tonight. Don't you want to see Cullen challenge Josie again? I know I do! And Bull is bringing the drinks, buncha crazy stuff from Seheron. Should be good. Can you even get drunk? I'd like to see that. Oh! Have you seen Blackwall's new carving? Just like the griffons of old..."

As the Inquisitor rambled on happily about the other participants in Varric's famous (or infamous) games of Wicked Grace, Cole thought of Rhys, the only mortal being he ever truly considered his friend. As he thought of the mage's face, the Inquisitor's appeared beside his, joined soon after by all the other members of the Inner Circle, even Sera. Slowly, a small smile broke across Cole's gaunt face.

"Thank you, Inquisitor. I am happy to know you."

The Inquisitor, in the midst of recanting a story about Cassandra's love for a certain romance serial written by a certain dwarf, halted, mouth parting silently in surprise. Her neck turn quickly to face Cole, eyes wide. She blinked rapidly a few times, as if processing the words Cole had just said, before a wide smile stretched her lips.

"I'm happy to know you, too, Cole. Now, no more dallying, hm? Let's go!" Without a moment more of hesitance, the Inquisitor grabbed Cole's hand and began pulling him towards the stairs. In his shock, he allowed himself to be swept away, marveling at how warm and large a hand could be. His eyes flicked upwards briefly, and he contently admired the patch on his hat. Somehow, it looked even better than if it was new.