Hello! Couldn't wait for Inquisition and decided to write a short fluffy series about the handsome Blackwall and an OC. Obviously we won't know what the character's really like for another 9 days but this is my current interpretation. I decided not to include the Inquisitor because I felt like taking a break from rough and tumble ladies for a bit. Expect a part two within a few days! Thanks for reading. :)

"Who's he?" Rinn murmured.

A man soaking wet from the storm outside stepped into Skyhold's tavern with a grimace on his face. As he lowered the hood of his cloak, water dripped onto his hard face and dark beard. His heavy armor was silver and gleaming under the tavern's candlelight.

"Someone in the Inquisition," Layla replied. "Forgot his name, but he seems nice enough."

Rinn eyed him as she cleaned glasses behind the bar. He didn't look very nice. In fact, he looked a bit scary.

His skin was rough with scars and he looked even more gargantuan as he removed his blue cloak. The man was imposing to say the least. And heading her way.

"I've got to go make sure my stew's not overflowing. Can you man the bar?" Layla asked. The older woman was already halfway to the kitchen before Rinn even had a chance to reply.

By then the man was taking a seat by the bar. He removed his heavy gauntlets and placed them in front of him with a low, tired sigh.

"Can I help you?" Rinn asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.

To her surprise, his mouth moved into a warm smile under his thick beard. "Hello, lass. I'll take an ale and whatever's cooking back there."

His smile put her at ease and she found herself returning the gesture. She'd apparently judged too quickly. "It's Layla's stew of the day."

"Any good?" The man asked.

Rinn looked behind her to make sure the tavern owner wasn't there. "I'd try the chicken instead," she whispered.

The man chuckled. His amber eyes twinkled with warmth, making his face look almost youthful. "Alright, I'll have an ale and a plate of chicken."

Rinn grinned and grabbed one of the glasses she'd just scrubbed clean. "We've got an order for chicken!" She called back to Layla as she filled his glass.

"Is it just the two of you working?" He asked as she set it down in front of him. He took a long swig, closing his eyes as he drained half the glass. Rinn smirked at the tiny bubbles leftover in his mustache. He grinned and wiped them with a napkin.

"Just us," she answered. "It's been a slow night. But I see the Inquisition's been working hard despite the weather." She gestured to his rainy gear.

"I wouldn't say hard," he chuckled. "Just training some new recruits. They were working harder than I was."

Rinn leaned back on the wall next to the door to the kitchen. "You look quite tough, ser. I was expecting to hear you were out slaying dragons," she teased.

"I'm afraid I'm hardly imposing against this miserable weather. The dragons will have to wait," he laughed. "I don't believe I've seen you around. My name is Blackwall."

"Rinn," she replied. She took his outstretched hand in hers and shook it. It was scarred with callouses but was warm and soft as it enveloped hers. "I'm new here. Just started last week," she explained.

"I'm new here as well. It seems to take getting used to," he said.

Rinn laughed. "I'll say. One night a qunari is challenging everyone in sight to an arm wrestle, the next a spirit is stealing our silverware. I've never worked anywhere quite like this before. But the world is changing."

"Aye," he agreed. "Never know what chaos you're going to wake up to these days. I hope you were gentle on the qunari. He's soft."

Rinn laughed and opened her mouth to reply but Layla was back with a steaming plate of chicken. "Here is your meal, ser. Rinn, you can go on home, hon. This place is gonna to be dead tonight thanks to that blasted rain."

Rinn almost pouted. She actually didn't want to conversation with her new friend to end. He was the most interesting person to come in all day. She took off her apron and smiled. "Well, enjoy your meal, ser Blackwall. I expect I'll see you around."

"I hope so. The chicken is lovely, by the way." She glanced at him just in time to catch his wink as Layla tried to talk him into trying her stew.

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Blackwall was sharpening his sword in the yard when he saw a familiar figure heading his way.

"Hello ser Blackwall!" The girl called.

It was the woman who had attended to him at the tavern the other night. Cute little thing, all big grins and thick red hair.

"Just Blackwall to you, miss. Off to work?" He noticed the apron in her hands.

"You know it. The people need their inebriations," she grinned. "What wild adventures are you up to today? Training more troops?"

"No, finally getting to some real action. Templars and mages have been going at it in the Hinterlands. We're going to try to put a stop to it. Demons are falling from the sky and we're all still too busy fighting each other." He shook his head.

Rinn sighed. "It's so terrible. I'm glad we've got a nice mix of people here at Skyhold…mages, templars, dwarves, elves…I hear they've even got a Grey Warden!"

He smiled. For a moment he considered telling her but quickly decided against it. Why complicate things? "Is that so?"

"That's what I hear anyway. I wonder if he knows the Hero of Fereldan," she murmured. "You know, I saw her once."

As much as he'd heard about the Warden Commander, he'd never seen her in person. "What was she like?" he asked.

"Oh I didn't get to talk to her," Rinn sighed. "She only visited Gwaren once with the new King after the Blight. Everyone back home liked Loghain—he was a fair enough Teryn, even if he was…well, a bit of a paranoid maniac. All the people of Gwaren acted as if they were dreading the visit, complaining about how much better Loghain was and blah blah blah." She rolled her eyes. "So I thought I'd get to be one of the ones to meet the Hero and the King. But of course when they actually came through the village everyone was tripping all over themselves to welcome them. I was in the back of the crowd. Just barely got to see the back of her head," Rinn sighed.

"Funny how that works. One minute the nation's shunning the Wardens, the next they're heroes," he snorted. "If these breaches drive her up to Skyhold I'll be glad to give you a boost over the crowd."

A smile brightened her face. "Hopefully it won't come to that, but you know I'd appreciate the help. Oh Maker, I'm late for work," she exclaimed. "Have fun breaking up ancient rivalries!"

Blackwall chuckled as she jogged off toward the tavern.

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Rinn glared as Blackwall took his usual seat at the bar.

"Evening," he said but was looking at her with his thick eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Evening, ser Warden," she replied, folding her arms across her chest. "Last night, Bull and Sera were on the floor laughing when I said I was disappointed I still hadn't met the Grey Warden." Rinn scowled. She had beginning to think the man abstained from drink until her rowdiest patrons pointed out he was right under her nose the whole time.

Blackwall at least had the grace to look embarrassed. "I can imagine."

Rinn snorted as she grabbed a mug and filled it with ale. She slid it none too gently at him across the bar. "Isn't a couple weeks a bit long to keep a practical joke going?"

"I apologize," he said. "I didn't mean it as a joke or to cause you harm. I just…didn't want to tell you yet. It's not a lifestyle many understand. Even after the Blight, Wardens are still looked at with distrust in some parts of Fereldan." His dark eyes were filled with regret.

Rinn softened and uncrossed her arms. She couldn't play sad for very long, especially not with her favorite customer. "Well, I trust you. You did get rid of that tiny little darkspawn problem a few years back," she grinned. "But really, Blackwall. The Wardens are so fascinating! I wish you'd told me sooner. I read Brother Genetivi's whole series on them. You're part of something seriously amazing."

Rinn didn't mention that she herself had yearned for a life of travel and adventure after reading Genetivi's books. She already felt like a bit of a star-struck fool. Her cheeks blushed pink. "I mean, you still owe me for lying though."

Blackwall laughed, his eyes dancing in the candlelight. "I'll find something to make it up to you."

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"Are those for me?" Dorian asked, wagging his eyebrows at the flowers in Blackwall's hands.

Blackwall groaned. He knew he should have taken a detour instead of walking through the bloody mess hall.

"Course not!" Sera laughed. "They're for Bull. Matches his eyes."

The qunari shook with laughter but his eyes studied Blackwall knowingly. "They're for that pretty tavern girl, aren't they, Blackwall? I was starting to think you had a drinking problem til I saw who you were talking to every night. Then I realized you've got another sort of problem. I get it though. Redheads, right?"

Blackwall was grateful his beard covered the blush rushing to his cheeks. He suddenly felt foolish. What was an old man like him doing trying to impress a woman like her? She didn't know the rush of running into battle or what it felt like to strike a man down. A bright young thing like her would probably shudder away from his battle scars. Not to mention his past. He didn't even want to think about it. If he really wanted to help her should toss the damn flowers away and send Cullen her way. She needed some young knight, not an old grizzly like him hanging around the bar all day.

"The only problem I have is seeing your ugly mug everyday," Blackwall rumbled with a smile. Sera and Dorian howled with laughter. "I'm just being a kind patron, unlike you lot."

Leliana looked up from where she was reading and smiled coyly. "She'll love them, Blackwall. I've seen the way she looks at you," the spy said quietly. "They're just jealous."

A small smile touched the man's lips. Well, maybe there was some hope after all.

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Rinn carefully closed the cottage door behind her as she crept inside. Her father had undoubtedly been asleep for hours. When he was asked to take his blacksmith trade to the inquisition at Skyhold he'd known it would be long and tiring work. Between his working during the day and her working at night, she didn't see him much as of late, but she at least tried to let him get a good night's rest when she got back from her late shifts.

And a late shift it had been. Although she stayed even later to have a drink with Blackwall and Cassandra.

Much like Blackwall, Cassandra intimidated her at first. But the woman was always courteous and respectful. Not like some of the local townspeople who barked orders at her all day. The woman even smiled and laughed when she and Blackwall began comparing battle stories.

As for Blackwall...she gazed down at the bundle of Andraste's Grace in her hand and let out a long wistful sigh. The girl quickly crept upstairs and let herself lean against her bedroom door. Rinn sunk down onto her bottom, a grin on her face.

She hadn't really meant it when she said he owed her for omitting he was a Grey Warden. But in typical polite Blackwall fashion, he'd done it anyway.

She never thought she'd have a Grey Warden for a friend. In her books they seemed so stern and severe, but Blackwall was nothing like that. There was a certain loneliness in the way he stared at the fire when he thought no one was looking, but he was almost always thundering with laughter or sharing stories.

Rinn imagined him sneaking out into the garden after training in the yard, looking over his shoulder as he picked flowers in his massive iron gauntlets. She couldn't contain the laugh that bubbled at her lips.

"Rinn?" Her father's yawn traveled easily through the thin walls of their small home.

Rinn bit her lip to still her smile. "Sorry, father!" she whispered.

When she calmed down she set down the flowers on the small bureau next to her bed and considered the gift. Was it a symbol of their friendship? Or merely a polite gesture?

Rinn kicked off her boots and crawled into bed, too tired to change out of her work clothes. Was it romantic? Her heart pounded in her chest at the thought.

He was older, yes, but certainly closer to her age than her father's. Besides, she'd watched him train through the window during a slow afternoon and he was stronger than most, if not all, the soldiers in their prime. And he was handsome. Though she wasn't sure he realized it.

Rinn let out a content sigh. She was probably just imagining it was romantic, but a girl could dream.