The LI's watching a drunken Warden/Hawke/Inquisitor talk endlessly to the other tavern-goers about how much they absolutely adore their lover; how wonderful and perfect they are, how incredibly blessed they are to have them. When a patron gets annoyed/bored and walks away, they just start all over with another patron.
Alistair: He’s extremely uncomfortable with the whole thing. He lets them run through two people before he drags them off to bed. “No, no. You’re embarrassing me! And you’re drunk. Just get some rest. It’s fine.”
Zevran: He’s sitting right next to the Warden the whole time, talking over them about how wonderful they are. He thinks it’s a great joke and tries to say increasingly outrageous things, hoping that the Warden will rise to the challenge, just to see the patrons’ faces.
Leliana: She thinks it’s sweet, and she’s just drunk enough to watch it all play out with a dreamy smile. For hours. Until the Warden passes out midsentence. That’s okay, though. It was lovely.
Morrigan: She claps her hand over the Warden’s mouth the moment it becomes clear that they have no intention of stopping. She’s not going to allow that. Random people in a tavern don’t deserve the Warden’s attention. And she really doesn’t want every random person in a tavern to know all that.
Fenris: He freezes up for a while, unable to figure out what to do as Hawke just babbles away to anyone who will listen about how amazing he is and how much they love him. When Hawke moves on to a fourth patron to slur at he finally manages to go over to them and get them into bed. “I love you, too, Hawke,” he says softly once they’re snoring away in bed. He wouldn’t admit it, but it was actually really nice to hear all that.
Isabela: She laughs and creates a stage out of a table and a couple of chairs and sits Hawke in the center of attention. “Yes, love, tell everyone how great I am!” She’s watching the whole thing with a grin. She loves it.
Anders: He’s pretty uncomfortable with it, but it takes him a little while to figure out what to do. In the end, Hawke rambles away to two people before he collects them and takes them home. “I love you, too, Hawke, but the tavern really isn’t the place for that.”
Merrill: She’s vibrating with both anxiety and happiness as Hawke tells anyone who will listen how much they love her. She bounces up and down in place, hands pressed to her mouth and eyes wide as she listens. Finally, she throws her arms around Hawke. “Oh, Hawke, I love you, too!” she tell them, her face buried in their shoulder. No one has ever cherished her the way Hawke does, and she loves it.
Cullen: The second he hears that the Inquisitor is in the Herald’s Rest talking about their relationship, he goes to collect them. He’s the Commander and they’re the Inquisitor, and that sort of behavior really should be allowed in public. His entire upper body is beet red when he collects his drunken lover, but he keeps his spine straight as he send them to bed.
Josephine: She’s blushing and lets it go on just a little longer than she really should just so she can hear it, then takes her lover to bed. With a glass of water right beside them, she tucks them in and kisses them goodnight, secretly pleased with what happened.
Cassandra: She smacks the Inquisitor to get them to stop, then takes them someplace quiet and private and lets them ramble about how much they love her. She wants to hear it, but she doesn’t want anyone else to hear it.
Iron Bull: He thinks it’s great fun! He keeps the Inquisitor’s cup full and lets them talk until they’re hoarse. The Chargers tease him mercilessly, but it’s all worth it!
Blackwall: “Now, my lady, that’s really improper,” he tries to say, but the Inquisitor just talks louder. After a while, he just scoops them up and sends them to bed. It’s sweet, but he’s not comfortable with it.
Sera: It’s great! Well, she knew it all already, but to hear Inky just keep talking is great! She’ll correct them sometimes or add things. And she makes sure the drinks keep coming!
Solas: He wasn’t in the tavern when it was happening, but hears the next morning that his vhenan was drunk and talking non-stop about how much they love him. He says nothing about it, not to anyone. When he sees the Inquisitor, hungover and sheepish, he kisses them lightly and makes a hangover cure, but otherwise doesn’t comment. He can’t deny, privately to himself, that he finds it oddly compelling.
Dorian: He’s right next to his amatus, and just drunk enough to let it go on without comment, his chest bowed out with pride. They laugh about it the next morning, both hungover with their limbs tangled together in the sheets.