"You hang it up - just like this - and when you and someone else get caught underneath it, you have to kiss."

"Oh... and what did you say it was called again?"

"Mistletoe."

Sari's mouth rounded into an "O" shape as she watched the Inquisition soldier, balancing on a chair, attach two green leaves to a wooden beam inside the tavern. Varric stood beside her, arms crossed over his chest as he explained the concept of this "mistletoe" stuff to her. It had all been his idea; he had mentioned it in a throwaway comment during a game of Wicked Grace, and was shocked that no one else had heard of it. So he had some shipped in for the winter season, and immediately delegated people to place the plant at random locations around Skyhold. The tavern was just one of many.

"It's something Isabela told us about back in Kirkwall," he continued as the soldier, finished with his job, hopped off the chair and admired his own handiwork. "She says she picked it up from somewhere she'd traveled, but honestly I think she just wanted another excuse to make out with people."

The tavern was busy, filled with soldiers and refugees who sought ale and warmth from the bitter cold wind that blew outside, the threat of a snowstorm looming on the horizon. On the upper floor, Sari could hear Bull and his Chargers talking loudly, slurring their words as the alcohol worked its way through their systems. Varric, pleased with himself, wandered toward the staircase to join them and no doubt get just as drunk, if not more. "You coming, Inquisitor?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

But Sari shook her head. "I think I'll head back to my quarters for the night. Josephine has some paperwork waiting for me up there, anyway."

"All the more reason to get a drink, in my opinion."

The main hall of Skyhold was surprisingly empty as Sari strode down it, her footsteps echoing off the stone walls. She could hear Josephine in her office just outside the war room, loudly arguing with herself over the proper way to phrase a letter she was attempting to write. But she wasn't about to interrupt the Ambassador; she was far too exhausted, and knew that it would probably lead to a late-night discussion of politics or visiting dignitaries that Sari honestly couldn't care less about.

As she pushed open the door that lead to her quarters, she heard a heavy set of footsteps behind her, partnered with the clanking of metal armor bumping against itself. "Inquisitor!" a voice rang out, bouncing off the stone and reverberating in her ears. She turned to see Cullen quickening his pace to catch up with her.

"Is there something you need, Commander?" she asked, leaning back against her now-opened door. Her hands were tucked behind her, resting between the smooth wood of the door and the warmth of her back.

"I was going over some of our reports from your last trip to the Exalted Plains, and…" He stopped speaking as he neared her, staring up at the top of her door frame. "What is that?"

Sari followed his gaze to see two small mistletoe leaves, wrapped tightly together with red ribbon, hanging down above her head. They were nailed into the wood, the ribbon falling down in loose curls that just barely brushed the very top of the door.

"Oh, that's Varric's doing," she answered, looking down at him once more. "It's called 'mistletoe.' Some winter holiday thing he picked up in Kirkwall. Supposedly if two people get caught underneath it, they have to kiss."

Cullen lowered his gaze until his eyes locked with hers. It was then that a wave of realization washed over her: they were standing underneath the mistletoe together. The look on his face seemed to suggest that he noticed it, as well. A hot flush crept up her neck, turning her cheeks pink. Desperately seeking a break from eye contact, she settled on staring down at the toes of her boots.

"Ah, so… anyway, about that report…" The Commander cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck out of nervousness. The gesture made her heart jump in her chest, as it always did. She could see the red hue that was spreading across his cheeks just as rapidly as it was her own.

Without thinking – perhaps that was a lie, as she'd thought about doing this several times before – Sari closed the space between them. She stood on her toes, cupped Cullen's face in her hands, and pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was soft, gentle, almost afraid. She could hear her heart pounding rapidly in her chest, so loudly that she was sure he could hear it as well. She didn't want to pull away – for one, she enjoyed the sensation, but mostly, she was terrified to open her eyes and see that he was upset, or embarrassed. Instead, she let the kiss linger for far longer than it probably should have.

After several seconds she reluctantly lowered herself back to the ground, pulling her lips away from his. She didn't want to look at him, to see the expression on his face. So it was right back to staring at her toes.

At least, until he cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look up at him again. His face was completely red, but his eyes – those beautiful amber eyes that she found herself thinking about far too often – shone with excitement. He leaned in closer, his chest heaving with uneven breaths.

Their lips met again, but this time it was much deeper, tapping into that well of desire and eager passion that had built up over months and months of shameless flirting from both sides. She felt her mind go hazy as he lowered his hands to her waist, drawing her closer against himself. Her heart was exploding in her chest again and again, and she found it difficult to focus on anything but the feel of his lips and the scent of his skin.

Once more they pulled apart, slower this time. Her skin felt hot, her cheeks prickling with the warm blood just underneath the skin. Butterflies fluttered around her stomach. It was hard to keep from smiling like an idiot. But she took comfort in the equally goofy grin on Cullen's face.

"I suppose I'll have to thank Varric for this… 'mistletoe' stuff," he said, his voice thick yet low, almost like a quiet growl.

Sari laughed, though it came out as more of a nervous giggle than anything else. "He hung it up in random spots across Skyhold," she told him. "Who knows how many there are."

"Well," the Commander responded, tilting her face up toward him again, "I suppose we'll have to find them all."