Garth had only met the Inquisitor once.
He hadn’t realised that it was the Inquisitor at first, too quiet and off in a corner of the camp by themselves wearing what looked to be a mishmash of armour. Garth had thought that perhaps one of the Dalish recruits had found the armour, and thought it to be good enough protection regardless of the shoulder spikes.
He looked lonely, there weren’t many Dalish in the camp and Loranil was back at Skyhold. Garth was human, but he hoped that the elf wouldn’t be too hostile towards him.
Everyone needed a friend to say ‘hello’ to when out in the field.
Garth had wandered over to him, a greeting on his lips when he heard the sobbing.
Ah, first battle. Were the thoughts that went through the man's head. The shock has gotten to him.
So Garth did the first thing he could think of, make a noise so as to not shock the elf and then comfort him as best he could. The elf thanked him, wiping the tears away from his eyes.
It never gets easier, but we have to do what we think is right.
Is what Garth told the man, and afterwards, they went their separate ways as the elf ventured into the Arbor Wilds with a group at his back. It was only then that Garth realised that he was speaking with the Inquisitor.
And only then that Garth realised that Inquisitor Callon Lavellan was just like everyone else there. Scared of everything going wrong, of things not working out. A young man who had been in the wrong place at the wrong (right?) time, doing something that no other could or would.
Garth was glad then and there that he had joined the Inquisition.
Callon was one that was worth following.