Hey, dudes, got another one for ya! You can thank my brain for coming up with something completely out of right field, and if you can't figure out what the basis for my pairing to come together is, check the title *nudges subtly* No, really, it's quite simple *shoves* Just go check it out!
Also, I wanna thank Schnarf for being an amazing person and giving me the kick in the ass to really get this one going, since I was going to originally get started on the Pitch Perfect and Kim Possible fics I've been neglecting. Oh well, sometimes you gotta write what you gotta write, am I right? See what I did there? *nudges* No? Too bad, I'm not repeating myself.
Thank you, Schnarf!
Read on!
Cassandra found her attention lacking as she swung her weapon at the practice dummy in the training yard at Haven. She growled under her breath when her blow failed to remove the straw stuffed arm that hung precariously from a few threads and fought to focus herself again before swinging once more. A slight smirk pulled at her lips when she decapitated the dummy and she straightened, sheathing her weapon in satisfaction. She turned on her heel and froze when confronted by wide blue-grey eyes, half hidden beneath a deep cowl that protected her spectator from the chill of the early winter breeze.
"Your Grace, I did not realize you were here. Did you need something?"
"I apologize if I disturbed you, Seeker. I was curious about your craft." The heavy lilt in Brynn Lavellan's voice was indicative of her heritage, and as the wind blew across the training yard, Cassandra got a better look at the upturned features and vallaslin that was tattooed on the elf's face; the color of charcoal, it travelled up the length of her nose and webbed out over her forehead like branches, winding around to nestle in the corners of her eyes. Another narrow stripe was tattooed on her lower lip and wound over her chin and down her throat, disappearing into the confines of her tunic and warm cloak.
"Did you want a lesson, Lavellan? You are small, but fast; you may be able to learn swordplay and use it to your advantage," Cassandra ventured hesitantly, unsure about the Herald's reason for appearing suddenly. The slight woman shook her head as she took a couple steps closer until she stood well within the Seeker's personal space, comfortable with the nearness even if she was still somewhat stiff inside Cassandra's immediate range. Her nose only just reached Cassandra's chin, and as she tilted her head back to find her eyes, her cowl fell back. Auburn hair, clipped tight on the sides and longer on top so it was tousled and just brushed her eyebrows, fluttered in the wind and showcased her long, pointed ears.
Her fingers twisted nervously around a woven bracelet on her wrist and her brow furrowed, distorting the hunter's tattoo that marked her face. "Leliana wanted to see us in the War Room; she said something about a mission, and asked for me to find you." Without another word, the Herald turned on her heel and walked away, gracefully avoiding passing soldiers and workers alike and disappearing into the throng of people effortlessly.
Cassandra frowned curiously, following in the Herald's wake. She walked through the gates and was accosted by Varric, who waved enthusiastically from his perch by the fire outside his tent. "Seeker! Come, sit, I have a tale that even you will get a kick out of!"
"Not now, Varric."
"What got into your smalls?" The dwarf cocked his eyebrow and Cassandra snorted, crossing her arms over her breastplate.
"Nothing-"
"Maybe that's the problem," Varric cut in, smirking when the Seeker glared.
"I have no time for your foolish stories, Varric."
He shook his head and took a seat, picking up Bianca and beginning to clean the crossbow again. "Suit yourself, Seeker. I just thought you might appreciate being able to remove that Qunari sized stick from your ass for a few minutes."
Cassandra's temper flared as he shrugged insouciantly, grip tightening on her pommel until she felt the ridged grip bite into her palm through her thin gloves. "Varric…"
He held up his hand innocently, eyes twinkling with mirth. "I didn't mean anything by it, Seeker. You'd better get going if you want to get to the big meeting on time."
"How did you – nevermind, I do not want to know." Cassandra stalked away, gritting her teeth as his throaty chuckle trailed after her, and took a deep breath before opening the doors to the Chantry. The building was blessedly warm, keeping the bitter breeze out, and the walls were lit with warm, crackling flames dancing in braziers. She strode past Mother Giselle as she conferred with a timid looking initiate and knocked twice on the door at the back before pushing it open.
Josephine and Cullen were talking quietly on the far side of the table covered with a map of Thedas and scattered with markers showing their troops, various missions, and the enemy's strongholds scattered across Orlais and Ferelden. Their heads were bent together, Josephine tapping her quill against the ever-present clipboard, and Cullen's hand was flat on the table as he looked at something she had written. To the side, leaning lackadaisically against the wall, Leliana caught her eye and smiled faintly. Her chin jutted across the room and Cassandra's head swiveled to see the Herald standing on the other side, raptly studying the map. Her lips moved soundlessly as a long finger traced the length of a river that wound across Northern Ferelden and emptied into the Waking Sea.
"Brynn, Cassandra has arrived. We can begin now."
The elf looked up sharply, keen blue-grey eyes finding Leliana's gaze. The spymaster nodded and she relaxed marginally, standing straight up and meeting Cassandra's eyes. "Leliana has a mission for us, Seeker. I need your input to figure out whom to bring."
"What is the mission, Leliana?" Cassandra addressed the spymaster, who clasped her hands behind her back.
"There are resources we desperately need in the Forbidden Oasis. Normally, I would send some of my scouts and a handful of soldiers to get them, but there have also been reports of rifts opening there. I thought that we could kill two birds with one stone; the Herald would close the rifts, we could get the ores and herbs we need, and I would feel better sending my scouts out with her party, especially if you went with her." There was a glint in Leliana's eyes that Cassandra didn't trust, one that too often spelled trouble for the Seeker.
She sighed, seeing the logic in the redhead's plan, but frowned as she faced the war table. Her finger rested on the marker denoting the Forbidden Oasis, rocking it back and forth gently. "What are the risks out there? It is nothing but a desert, there is nothing of import that far away from the cities."
"On the contrary, Cassandra, the amount of demonic activity around the rifts should keep your party busy for quite a while, especially if not taken care of expeditiously." Leliana tilted her head to one side, pursing her lips thoughtfully. "I have also heard rumors of a temple in the heart of the oasis, one my spies cannot access. You need to be prepared for what may be inside there, as well."
Cassandra chewed on the inside of her cheek pensively. She looked over at Brynn, whose inscrutable gaze seemed to burn into her, and twisted the marker in her hands around. "Fine," she said, "I will go with you to the oasis. I think you should also bring The Iron Bull and Solas, they will both be useful fighting demons. Besides," she added wryly, "Bull would never forgive me if I left him out of a battle beneath a rift."
The dry remark prompted a small smile from Brynn, quickly hidden behind her hand as she feigned a cough. Leliana smiled widely, nodding in approval. "Good decision, Cassandra. I will send a scout to inform them you will leave on the morrow, then." She walked to the door and stuck her head out, speaking briefly with one of her people outside before shutting it again. "Now that we've got that out of the way, there is something else we need to address."
She pulled a letter from some hidden pocket, seal broken and hanging from the end of the paper. "I received this a few days ago, I was only waiting for everyone to be free to address it." She looked at Brynn meaningfully. "A letter came from the Free Marches, one addressed to you, Brynn. Your Keeper asks after your health; news of the Conclave has reached even there, it seems."
"Keeper Istimaethoriel? She is well?" Brynn's brow furrowed in worry, eyes simultaneously lightening as Leliana read the letter aloud.
"She is well, she asks after you and cautions you to be safe in your travels. She says she is proud of you and what you have become, Brynn." The elf's eyes softened and a watery smile crossed her face. Cassandra watched her carefully, gauging her expression as Leliana continued to read. "She says you will always have a place in the clan, but you have a larger purpose now, a duty to fulfill before you can decide where to go."
Brynn's eyes watered, but she only nodded and took a deep breath. "So," she breathed, meeting each of her advisors' eyes, "what do we need to do to prepare?"
Cassandra watched the Herald ride at the front of the party, slightly separated from the others as she urged her mount faster. Her Barded Charger soon caught up to Brynn's Green Dales Feral, a spirited gray spotted mare that tossed her head as the Seeker drew up next to the elf. "It is not safe for you to ride by yourself, Herald."
"I'm not alone, Seeker." The simple reply was delivered bluntly, although not unkindly. Brynna met her eyes briefly and nudged her mount ahead, widening the gap between herself and their boisterous party.
Cassandra heard the tail end of one of Bull's bawdy jokes and the laugher of his Chargers behind her and rolled her eyes as she urged her stallion into a trot. "Please, Your Grace, do not stray too far from the rest of the party. If something were to happen on the road-"
"Then I would find myself suddenly surrounded by my companions, yes?" Cassandra watched with interest as Brynn's jaw clenched and she tightened her grip on the reins of her mare. "I would not fear for my life because I would find it guarded like a child jealously guards their toy."
"You are the Herald of Andraste, you carry the only power able to close the rifts wreaking havoc across Thedas," Cassandra began, to be cut off by Brynn when she suddenly twisted in the saddle, eyes glinting in the sunlight.
"A power I did not ask for, to protect a people to whom I do not belong, to bring peace to a country I do not live in."
"This does not only affect the people of Orlais or Ferelden, Your Grace-"
"I have a name!" The sudden exclamation made Cassandra stiffen, and her Charger shifted uneasily beneath her. Brynn's mount hopped to the side excitedly, prancing and tossing her head as the elf fought to regain control. "Easy, lethallin. Ne hamin." She continued to murmur to the mare in elvish as Cassandra watched curiously, studying the way Brynn stroked the Feral's neck. The horse's ears flicked back, listening to the quiet, soothing voice, and eventually, she calmed, resuming her easy walk on the dirt track. They rode in silence for several minutes, listening to the banter at their backs and feeling the warmth of the sun on their shoulders. "Ir abelas, Seeker. I'm on edge from travelling, that's all. I haven't been this far from home…ever."
Cassandra heard the unease hidden beneath Brynn's words and, despite not understanding what she first said, she thought it was an apology just by the way the elf's shoulders slumped and she refused to meet her eyes. She nudged her horse closer, their knees brushing, and set her hand on Brynn's arm. "You are far from home, I understand feeling weary of travel. Once we are back in Haven, you can write your clan and tell them of your exploits." Cassandra's curiosity rose when Brynn only shrugged, tugging her cowl up to hide her face and riding ahead again. Cassandra let her go, although she stayed close behind, listening to the steady clip-clop of her stallion's steps and the laughter at her back, and staring at the dejected slump of the Herald's back.
"Na din'an sahlin!"
Cassandra heard the cry and, a few seconds later, an arrow sailed over her head and was embedded deep in the rage demon's mouth. It roared in pain, yanking ineffectually at the arrow, and Bull stepped up behind it, swinging his massive two handed weapon at its back. It screamed once more before being absorbed into the rift again and, as one, the party turned their attention to the final demon. The creature slung a cone of freezing snow at them but was quickly disarmed – literally – by Bull. Solas ripped it apart handily and Brynn jogged up to the rift, bow in hand.
"Close the rift, Herald, before more demons come out," the mage said. She held up her left hand and a sick green glow surrounded it, solidifying and seeming to reach out toward the rift eagerly. Cassandra watched Brynn's face, the way her expression contorted in pain as a teeth gritting hum filled the air, the sound rising in intensity until it broke, along with the rift. The tear sealed itself with a rush of warm air that flowed over them and buffeted their clothes. The already stifling heat became unbearable for a moment until it dissipated and the party cheered. The Iron Bull clapped Solas on the back, smiling unapologetically when the mage glared up at him, and Cassandra took a step toward Brynn.
"You did good, Yo – Herald?" Cassandra watched in alarm as Brynn swayed on her feet, eyes unfocused, and dropped her bow from numb fingers. "Lavellan!" The warrior leapt at Brynn when her knees suddenly gave out, barely managing to catch her before she hit the stone beneath their feet. The elf was limp in her arms, sweat pouring down her face, but there was no obvious reason for her collapse. "Solas!" The mage appeared at her side a moment later, kneeling and pressing his fingers to the fluttering pulse at Brynn's throat. "What is wrong with her?"
"I…don't know." His brow furrowed in frustration, he gave a cursory glance at the rogue's prone form. "There are no obvious wounds, but…perhaps she overworked herself. Come, let us return to camp."
Cassandra stood and lifted Brynn into her arms, surprised and a little worried at how light she felt. They walked briskly back to camp and Cassandra immediately ducked into a tent, laying the elf on the cot inside. She efficiently divested Brynn of her armor and sweat-soaked clothes under Solas' watchful eyes, but neither found any outward signs of trauma. Cassandra caught the faint glow beneath the skin of the archer's left hand and turned her attention to Solas. "Could the mark in her hand have done this?"
He hummed pensively. "Perhaps. It is a part of her and closing the rifts would, theoretically, need a source of power to be done. As there aren't any immediate concerns, I would merely watch over her, perhaps try to coax some water down her throat. I'll be back later, Seeker."
With a terse nod, the mage exited the tent, and Cassandra found herself alone with the steady breaths of Brynn on the cot at her side. She sighed heavily as she slowly stood, feeling the sweat trickle down her back and soak her tunic further. She reached for her belt and slid the buckle apart, setting it aside, and began stripping off her armor piece by piece. Soon, she had a pile of leather and iron at her feet and she plucked at her damp tunic with a disgusted look on her face. She whipped it over her head and immediately felt better as the air brushed against her skin. She gingerly tossed the tunic aside, digging through her pack for a clean one and pulling it over her head. When she was clean and dry once more, she resumed her place next to Brynn's cot and pulled a whetstone from within her pack. She set her sword in her lap and ran the stone over the edge, starting the task of honing the blade as she kept vigil over the Herald.