1: Longing

Josephine looked up from the document she had been reading, rubbing her eyes tiredly. The height, or rather lack of height, of the candles on her desk told her it was probably time she called it a night. Through the window of her study she could see it was fully dark outside, and the usual cacophony of voices from the courtyard – soldiers training, scouts catching up and passing on the latest information or simply gossip, and the steady stream of visiting nobles and dignitaries conversing amongst each other, had died to the night-time quiet, where she could often hear the voices of the Chantry mothers leading evensong.

Sighing, she returned her gaze to the letter that had sent her thoughts into disarray, its heavy blob of sealing wax bearing the distinctive Pentaghast skull heraldry. Within the confines of her mind she heard Cassandra making one of her distinctive noises of disgust about the Nevarran obsession with death and Josephine's lips tugged involuntarily upward even as she inwardly wondered how it was that any thought of Cassandra, however fleeting, brought warmth and peace to her thoughts. Leliana would never let her hear the end of it if she realised the full extent of her obsession. Still, it had at least brought her to a course of action if not a decision. Leliana would probably be alone in the rookery at this hour and would offer pleasant company, and possibly useful advice on her current impasse. Her mind made up, Josephine gathered up the loose papers on her desk, tidying them away into neat bundles away from casual prying eyes. Her business might not be as secret as Leliana's, but after the time Sera had drawn obscene … diagrams over some important correspondence with the Orlesian court, she had learned it was best not to leave anything unattended. Once everything was secure, she took up a pair of glasses and a bottle of one of the fine Orlesian vintages she kept for such occasions and set off in the direction of the tower.

As she had hoped, the rookery was quiet, or as quiet as it ever got with the incessant cawing of the ravens that were the lifeblood of the Inquisition's spy network. The spymaster herself was alone with her back to the stairs, but turned swiftly at the sound of Josephine's feet on the steps.

"Josie!" Leliana exclaimed happily, tossing aside the map she had been scrutinising and pulling out a chair beside her. The redhead's eyes dropped to the bottle clutched in the ambassador's hands and her smile widened. "Is there something special I ought to know about?"

"Sadly not Leliana, I merely thought you could use some company, while I could use a friendly ear, if you've one to offer." Josephine gratefully sank into the offered chair, cheered already by her friend's presence.

"Oh?" Leliana's brows raised curiously. "And is this a professional matter, or are you just going to moon over Cassandra again? Because if so, my advice will remain the same as the last time-"

"I do not moon." Josephine protested hotly. "I…. admire, from afar."

"But of course. They are so different."

"I would have thought someone as knowledgeable as you would have known there is a long and noble tradition of unrequited pining in Antiva. A well brought up lady should content herself with longing looks at the object of her affection for at least… three to six months." She was joking of course, but that didn't stop an exasperated roll of the eyes from the spymaster.

"Josephine, I should not need to point out that with the current state of the world you may not have three months. You really should tell her how you feel. I've seen the way she watches you when she thinks no one is looking, I'm quite sure your pining is anything but unrequited."

The ambassador suppressed a sigh of irritation. This was not the first time they had had this particular discussion, and part of her, the rational part that was perfectly capable of facing down kings, counts and lords, knew full well that Leliana was right, and that even if she was wrong and her feelings for the Nevarran warrior were not returned it was better to know, and to be able to move on. Over the past few months they had progressed from casual acquaintances to good friends, enjoyed walks on the battlements and long discussions about shared interests in literature, but the fear of losing the connections they had made held her back from trying to take the final step towards nudging their friendship into courting. She had made her mind up on multiple occasions that it was the right time to broach the subject, had even set out to talk to Cassandra more than once with this thought in her head, but when faced with the object of her desires all her courage melted away like snow with the spring rains, leaving her cursing the cravenness that stopped her tongue and left her almost shaking with suppressed longing. Gathering her composure, she wrestled the conversation back onto the topic she had come to discuss.

"As a matter of fact, it does somewhat concern Cassandra, although you needn't look quite so pleased with yourself, as it is official Inquisition business, and not a personal matter." Josephine did her best to ignore the amused gleam in Leliana's blue eyes. "As you know, the Inquisition has been trying to garner support from all the ruling houses of southern Thedas, with varying degrees of success. The involvement of the Venatori with Corypheus and the possibility of assistance from Tevinter has made the goodwill of Nevarra ever more important, but so far we've made little if any progress with any of their nobility. At least until today, when I received a personal letter from King Markus himself. It was long and somewhat rambling, but in summary, he expressed an interest in coming to a diplomatic accord, but only on condition that he comes here, in person, to negotiate it."

All trace of her earlier teasing humour vanished from the spymaster's face in an instant. "That is somewhat surprising. King Markus is known to be in very poor health and of somewhat uncertain mind, and my agents report he rarely ever leaves his residence."

Josephine nodded in agreement, taking a sip of the rich wine and feeling her earlier tension begin to recede. "Some Nevarrans believe he is already dead and his Mortalitasi advisers have been ruling the country, but I'm sure that is fanciful speculation. But even without the matter of his failing health, it's somewhat unusual for a person of his stature to conduct such negotiations in person. What is even odder is that he insists that Cassandra is also present at any such discussions."

Leliana's puzzled frown echoed the expression Josephine herself had worn earlier in the day when she had first read the missive. "Why would he make such a condition? We both know that Cassandra has absolutely no interest whatsoever in affairs of state, not to mention that she bears such little love for her homeland that she hasn't set foot on Nevarran soil in close to thirty years. There is their familial connection, but they are distant relatives at best, what, fourth cousins?"

"Third," Josephine corrected before she could stop herself, and instantly wished she could wipe the knowing grin from the spymaster's lips. "Regardless, I was under the impression they barely knew each other, if at all. Have they ever even met to your knowledge?"

"Perhaps many years ago, but Cassandra would have been a child then. I don't know for sure, she does not speak often of her childhood. I am certain they have not had any meetings in recent years." The redhead sighed softly, winding a finger absently through a strand of hair beside her ear. "Now I see your difficulty. Cassandra will not be happy about this development, but nonetheless you must proceed with your negotiations." There was a pause as Leliana swirled the wine in her glass pensively, the ruby red catching the light of the candles beside her desk, before she turned to face Josephine fully, taking one of the ambassador's hands in her free one. "Josie, I know you care for Cassandra and you do not wish to incur her displeasure, but the needs of the Inquisition outweigh those of one individual. Cassandra may be stubborn and difficult at times, but even she will see that, she is not blind to reason."

"Yes of course," Josephine blinked back a retort that she would put her own concerns above the Inquisition's needs. "It's just that, well, she has been so withdrawn since the matter at Caer Oswin, I do not wish to add to her worries."

Leliana's expression softened, her fingers rubbing soothing circles against Josephine's palm. "Oh Josie… you are hopeless you know. Cassandra will be fine, this is just how she deals with problems that she can't resolve by sticking a sword in them. The best thing you can do is let her know you are there for her if she wishes it, but otherwise let her deal with it herself. She will come to you when she is ready."

The honest affection in her friend's tone made a gentle warmth bubble up in Josephine's stomach, displacing the tension that had crept in, or perhaps it was the wine, but regardless she felt a lot lighter than she had before she had come up to the rookery. "You are right, I shall just have to find the right moment to broach the subject."

The spymaster reached over to top up her glass. "Perhaps, if you find the right moment, you might bear in mind what I said earlier. Trust me Josie, have I ever been wrong before? At this rate you will both be old women before either of you dares to admit what is so blatantly obvious."

"Very well, I will consider it." Josephine regarded Leliana's smug smile, and an answering one of her own crept across her features. "Since you are in such a teasing mood, how about a few hands of Wicked Grace?"

. . . . . . . . . .

Josephine had begun to think she would never find a suitable opportunity to broach the subject of the troublesome correspondence with Cassandra. The Seeker was normally somewhat reserved, not given to spending evenings carousing in the tavern like some of the inquisitor's closer companions, and her accommodations in the smithy meant fewer opportunities to run into her within the main keep, but usually she could at least be encountered at meals, or at prayer in the chantry. However since returning from the tragic attempt to discover the fate of the remaining Seekers of Truth, she had barely been seen by anyone. It had bothered Josephine, Cassandra was clearly in considerable emotional turmoil and it seemed cruel to allow anyone to be alone at such times, but Leliana and the inquisitor, even Cullen, had been firm in their instructions to let her be, and so she had reluctantly acquiesced. This evening though, as she returned from a twilight walk across the battlements to clear her head after a long war council, she spotted a familiar figure making her way to the armoury with a long, loping stride, dark head bent over a bundle in her grasp.

"Cassandra!" Josephine called out and hurried down the steps to the courtyard, relieved to see her quarry had paused and turned to wait for her.

"Lady Montilyet," Cassandra inclined her head courteously, "did you need something?"

"There was a matter I wished to discuss with you, if you have the time. But I do not wish to intrude upon your evening." Politeness was a familiar shield Josephine fell back on when uncertain, and it availed her now to suppress the strange feelings that threatened to submerge her whenever she was alone with the other woman. A yearning, a longing, that made all her want to abandon all manners and restraint and throw herself into Cassandra's arms, to trace the sharp planes of her cheekbones with her fingertips, to taste her lips, to be gathered against that strong body, protected and cherished. It was foolish and frightening, she wanted it so intensely, and yet feared it at the same time, this obsession that robbed her of sleep and sometimes sanity.

"You are in love Josephine," Leliana had merely laughed when she had complained once about the turbulent moil of emotions that raged within her. "You think you have loved before, but when it happens, you realise what you thought was love was a mere childish infatuation. It is wonderful and terrible and it changes you forever." The bard's gaze had turned inward, a wistful note in her voice, and Josephine had sensed her thoughts had strayed once more to her lost Warden. She dismissed the recollection as she realised Cassandra was speaking, a faint crease of her dark brows the only sign she had noticed Josephine's momentary distraction.

"As it happens, I have no plans, and I would enjoy some company, although I warn you now you may find yourself wishing for a more convivial companion. I was just about to make some tea, if you wish to join me."

Nodding assent, Josephine followed Cassandra into the smithy and took one of the rough wooden chairs as the other woman busied herself with setting some water to boil. The normally busy forge h was deserted and quiet at this time of the evening but still wonderfully warm, the slowly cooling embers of the fires casting a soft orange glow into the loft the Seeker had claimed as her living space. Cassandra had evidently been returning from the bath house deep in the bowels of Skyhold, for she was out of armour, clad only in leggings and a loose linen shirt, her hair still damp and sticking up in sharp spikes. Even her usually neat crown braid hung undone in a loose plait, a ribbon keeping the ends from tangling. Josephine shuddered as a spike of heat welled up in her loins at the thought of the long strands hanging loose down Cassandra's bare back, of running her fingers through them as her lips traced across muscled shoulder to sinuous neck…

"You're wool-gathering again," a tinge of amusement coloured Cassandra's voice as she handed a steaming mug to Josephine. "It's not like you to be so distracted." Dark eyes regarded her curiously, a softness to her expression that hinted at the kindness and compassion the Seeker hid beneath her brusque outer façade.

"My apologies," Josephine stammered, cursing the traitorous blush that warmed her cheeks. This was humiliating. She had been taught the Game by masters, and yet her she was incapable of keeping her thoughts in check for more than a few moments. It was absurd, an utter folly. "I was just wondering how you were. We have seen little of you these past few days."

"I am … better than I have been, enough that I can move forward. There is still much in the Lord Seeker's book that troubles me, but I need not deal with it all now. In some ways, I feel relieved, as if a veil has been pulled from before my eyes."

Josephine took a sip of the herbal tea, finding it bitter but surprisingly refreshing. "I feel I- we, all of us, should have done more to help you with it, but Leliana insisted it was better to let you be."

You have a kind heart Josephine," Cassandra smiled over the rim of her mug, long fingers caressing the metal. "You need not feel guilty, the failing is mine, not yours. I have been upbraided many times for my tendency to turn any… difficult feelings into anger, but I am what I am. It is better I deal with such alone, lest I lash out at those I should not wish to hurt, and I would definitely not wish to hurt you. " The warrior's gaze dropped to her mug as her voice became quieter, gentler, and Josephine found herself wishing she had time alone to process the implications of that statement, before Cassandra looked back up, continuing in a brighter tone. "Leliana is a good friend who has been on the wrong end of my temper a few times, mostly undeservingly. It is not surprising that she would give you such advice."

For a little while they sat in silence, punctuated only by the occasional sounds of the dying fires and the rattle of wind against the pane. It was a pleasant, undemanding silence rather than an uncomfortable one, and Josephine regretted she must break it with the news she had come to deliver.

"Cassandra, if I might ask a personal question, how well do you know King Markus?"

Cassandra's brows furrowed, a frown creasing her forehead. "Not at all really." Her knuckles, Josephine noticed, had turned white where she gripped her mug with sudden force. "He is family of course, but I have only met him twice, and I was very young then, I barely recall anything about either occasion now. Why do you ask?"

There was clearly more to this than Cassandra's apparently casual tone let on, but Josephine did her best to quiet her misgivings and carry on. "I have been trying to come to an accord with Nevarra to formally recognise the Inquisition. In addition to any purely political significance, such an agreement would grant freedoms for our personnel to operate in Nevarran territory, which at the moment is particularly vital if we are to shut down the routes by which Venatori agents have been able to cross over into Orlais. Up until recently, despite many carefully crafted letters and entreaties, I had been unable to make any headway at all, but now King Markus himself wants to come to Skyhold and negotiate a treaty in person."

"He wants to come here?" Cassandra hissed, her mug falling to the table and splashing tea as she abruptly rose to her feet, turning her back to Josephine as she leaned against the railing, gazing down into the darkness of the armoury floor below.

"Leliana was surprised as well. She said he has barely been seen about in public and that he is very frail and ill." Josephine watched Cassandra's chest rise and fall as she let out a deep breath, flexing her fingers as if she was mentally centring herself. "There… there's more. He has asked that you be present in person as a condition of commencing negotiations."

Cassandra whirled around so suddenly Josephine was unable to stop herself from flinching from the fury in the warrior's face. "Why?" she growled, her voice thickened by anger. "Why would he ask such a thing? As far as most of the Pentaghast clan are concerned, I am nothing but an outcast and an embarrassment. I am surprised he even remembers my name, but then the Pentaghasts always love documenting everything that pertains to their precious blood. You would think it ran with gold the way they obsess over such things."

"I honestly don't know. I'm sorry, I would not ask if there was any other way," Josephine tried to suppress the feeling of shame that welled up in her, although the logical part of her brain insisted she had only made a perfectly reasonable request. The Seeker's anguish was palpable, even if the ambassador did not quite understand it. Cassandra had made her contempt for most of her family quite plain, and she had not thought Cassandra would care a whit what they thought of her. "Please Cassandra, this is important. Can you really not bring yourself to spend an hour or two in his company? I will handle the negotiations, we will try to keep contact between you to the minimum."

The silence stretched out long enough to be oppressive, before with a defeated sigh Cassandra sank back into her chair, resting her head in her hands. "Why is it that I can never seem to escape them completely?" she murmured. "I ran away to join the Seekers, I left Nevarra, I thought I had cut all my ties to my former life, and yet still they find reach their claws out for me. I curse the day I was born a Pentaghast."

Josephine's hand hovered awkwardly above Cassandra's shoulder, uncertain whether comfort would be gratefully received, and not sure what she should say. It was so hard for her to imagine being at such odds with her own family, infuriating though Yvette could be on occasion, let alone completely casting herself adrift from them. She could imagine no trespass that her beloved sister could commit that she could not bring herself to forgive in time. "I'm sorry," she settled for repeating, although the words seemed empty and frivolous. "It was not my intent to hurt you."

"It is not you I am angry with," the Seeker finally looked up from the table, her fingers restlessly combing through her short hair. Her face was turned in Josephine's direction but her gaze was far away, somewhere in a distant land and years in the past, old pain etched in the sharp creases of her forehead and the tense set of her shoulders. "Very well, I will meet him, if there is no other way. I make no promises regarding what he might ask of me."

"Thank you Cassandra, it is much appreciated. The Inquisition-"

"I am not doing this for the Inquisition. Now if you'll pardon me Lady Montilyet, I think I will turn in for the night." The warrior rose stiffly, eyes downcast, and even as Josephine mumbled some vague pleasantries as she left the smithy she was gripped by the sudden sense of aching loss of something she wasn't even sure she'd had in the first place.

Author's Notes:

I've taken the odd liberty with Cassandra's personal history because the dates and ages in various bits of dialogue in the game are quite contradictory, so I've just used what works for this particular story. Likewise I've changed the closeness of her relationship to King Markus because it's obvious to anyone who thinks about it for more than a few seconds that she can't really be his fourteenth cousin nine times removed (especially if she is also 78th in line to the throne).

This story was also written prior to the publication of World of Thedas vol.2 so it contradicts some of the information there. I may rewrite it one day to be compliant.