“I’m sorry —” Clearly this wasn’t the right time to ask. Or even the right thing to ask, or the right person — though no matter how much more suitable to answer he is, Shianni wouldn’t have asked the Iron Bull. He’s too… big. She KNOWS he doesn’t pose a threat to anyone in Skyhold, no more than any human or dwarf or elf; he seems friendly, and she’s been told he doesn’t mind answering questions. Yet somehow that’s the very thing that puts her off. The Iron Bull is friends with people here, and she wants to keep her distance.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt your reading. It’s just, I don’t know anything about your people — about the qunari — and neither do most people here. It doesn’t seem right. I didn’t even know you’re Andrastian.”
“I don’t know anything about
the Qunari in the terms that
your asking” Rim replied with
another sigh. She steepled
her fingers together and took
a deep breath.
(she needed to find the words for this, and they so easily evaded her when it came down to who were supposed to be her people)
Rim sat up a little straighter
then, placing a bookmark
between two pages. “I can’t
help you in the way you want”
she pressed. “There are
intricacies that I can’t explain
beyond: it’s a religion, but it’s
also a race” Rim explained.
Her muscles tightened and her
eyes flicked over the covers of
books in front of her.
“I’m a Marcher, a rebel mage, a
scholar and a scientist.
Andrastian” she managed a
smile. “A very don’t judge a book
by it’s cover scenario” a small
laugh. “I understand you and
everyone else have questions,
but I have just as much as you
do” she admits, resting her chin
on a closed hand now.