[ He's right - there is no arguing against that, and Cassandra looks a little disappointed when she realizes it. But also a little pleased. Praise from Varric is rare enough, particularly when it's not immediately twisted into some kind of backhanded compliment. ]

I dragged you to the Conclave, Varric. And to Haven after that. [ Something occurs to her then, and she looks suddenly worried. ] What if - what if I have dragged you here too? What if this is my fault?