Crashing at Varric’s every time Dorian happens upon Kirkwall ( which isn’t particilarly often, to be honest, but often enough that Varric’s extra room is HIS, now, thank you very much ) means that he tends to meet an interesting array of people. The man knows a lot of people in general, some of which make their way through their apartment or into nights out. So walking out of his room, drowsy around the edges and craving nothing more than caffeine, and seeing a semi-familiar man sitting on the couch isn’t necessarily UNEXPECTED. Though the complete lack of Varric anywhere is somewhat surprising.
❝ I assume that you’re Hawke? ❞ Dorian breezes into the kitchen, generally unwilling to take a pause in order to say a proper hello. Caffeine first, guy on the couch later. Priorities. He pours himself a cup of coffee and strides back into the living room, taking in the man properly, this time. The pictures he had seen made it impossible to mistake this man for ANYONE ELSE, lest Varric knew other tall, broad, muscular, handsome men with black hair and beards and whatnot. Dorian is fairly certain that he doesn’t. ❝ Strange how it has taken us this long to meet, face to face. Timing truly is everything, I suppose. Nonetheless, I have heard so much about you. ❞