That's the thing: when you're the one in charge of making sure everybody in Skyhold doesn't get exploded or whatever by Corypheus today or tomorrow and preferably the next day, and when Cabot, being an intelligent fellow, has some idea of why he doesn't see you in his tavern very often -- you drink free, and from the top shelf. (The metaphorical one.)

Everybody else must rely on their charm.

Cullen, meanwhile, is upstairs, still staring at the ceiling. He hasn't moved, except to clasp his hands over his chest. This is perhaps unfortunately corpse-like? But it's comfortable, so... you know.