"May the Maker…" Adaar scratched behind his horns, trying to make out the strange Chantry prayer.
He had learned one poem so far with the assistance of Madame de Fer, but he was still… hesitant sharing it with Cassandra. He was afraid of making a fool of himself. Vivienne suggested reading prayers and stories from the Chantry to help, since Cassandra believed in the Maker. Adaar sighed, feeling his frustration build again.
"Why is this so difficult!" He exclaimed, throwing the Chantry book across the garden. He could hear Morrigan's laugh behind him, "I often feel the same when reading Chantry gibberish."
He ignored her, storming to the door leading into the great hall, straight to the war room. Josephine startled at his abrupt entrance through her office, but she did not follow. He needed to do something else, plan their next move on Corypheus, or secure some supply line, he didn't care. He just needed his mind off her.
He threw open the war room door, his brow relaxing immediately at the light gasp emitted by his startling entrance.
"Cassandra…" He whispered, not sure if he should feel excitement or regret at finding the one woman he wanted to be around, yet caused him to feel so conflicted. He coughed into his hand, trying to regain some semblance of his pride.
"My apologies, Seeker, I didn't mean to interrupt." He kept his eyes downcast, still embarrassed from their last encounter above the garden. "It's alright, Inquisitor. I-," She stopped, seeming to think something through. "I was just leaving." She finished, moving around the table.
He moved aside, holding the door open for her. He wanted to ask her to stay, to apologies for not coming to speak with her lately, but fear gripped his throat, strangling the words he wanted to say. As she passed, however, she stopped.
"Inquisitor, I-" was all she said before he grabbed her, pushing her back to the door. His hand gripped her waist, pulling her against his chest. His other hand rested against her cheek, fingers tangling in her short hair. Their lips met instantly.
He was rough, kissing her deeply, afraid she might resist and he wanted to preserve the moment for as long as he could. She did not. When the need for air arose, he reluctantly pulled back, softening the kiss and eventually pulling back so their lips brushed against each other. He didn't want to let go.
He pressed her forehead to his, squeezing her to him tightly before letting her go altogether. He stepped back, waiting for a punch to the jaw. She rested against the door, breathing heavily, staring off into some distance he couldn't see.
His mouth opened and closed like some fish out of water, unsure of what to say. He knew why he did it, but how could he explain it to her? Just say it, Adaar! Tell her how you hold your breath when she enters a room, how your heart skips a beat when she looks at you, how you unconsciously smile every time she rushes into battle and you're beside her. Tell her how you think shes the most beautiful woman you've ever met, that she is smart and strong, that you fight for her more than for Thedas.
But he stood there, confused. She continued to stare, trying to catch her breath. Adaar shook his head, and retreated from the war room and into Josephines office. "Inquisitor, is everything-" Josephine asked upon his entrance, but he didn't hear her.
His face burned and his chest was tight. So tight he could barely breath. As he entered the great hall, an enormous roar erupted from his chest. He grabbed his horns, wanting to rip them from his head. The people in the hall watched him with a mixture of horror and amusement. What had he just done? He raced across the hall and up the stairs to where Vivienne spent most of her time above the great hall.
"My dear, what in the Maker's name-" He dropped to his knees before her, hugging her waist and hiding his face in her robes. Vivienne patted his back, unsure of the issue. Her maternal instincts that she thought lost kicked in, sensing that it must have to do with Cassandra.
"My darling boy, this will not do." She said, grabbing his chin and forced him to look at her. His face was the darkest purple she had ever seen. "I'm an idiot, Vivienne. A complete fool." He whined, staring at her with sad, embarrassed eyes. She sighed, "stand, my dear. You're stronger than this."
He obeyed her, even though he didn't feel strong at all. "She makes me weak, Vivienne. I don't understand it."
She smiled gently at him, caressing his stubbled cheek. "That is love, darling. And you're a fool for it." He groaned in response, "I hate it."
She laughed, "I know, darling." Her expression softened, becoming serious. "Now stand straight, I'm tired of this slouching." Adaar immediately straightened his large spine to its full height. "Now," she sighed, "stop this foolishness. You're the Inquisitor, not some love-stricken schoolboy. They need a leader and Cassandra would not put up with this weakness, would she?" She questioned, making Adaar feel small even though he towered over her. "No, she wouldn't."
Vivienne shook her head defiantly, "exactly. Now, face whatever it is you may have done. You're a warrior, fierce and proud. You do not cower and you do not falter. Show her." She turned him toward the staircase, giving him a gentle shove. He looked over his shoulder, like a young boy being sent by his mother. "Yes, Madame." He whispered, taking the stairs slower than was necessary. "Now, Adaar." She called after him, and smiled when he picked up his pace.
Adaar crossed the courtyard, smiling as he saw Cassandra reading. She is lovely, he thought to himself. His smile faded as his embarrassment took over. He worked over every possible thing he could say to her over and over on his slow walk outside. She didn't notice his approach, giving him time to breathe, or try to anyway.
"Cassandra." His deep baritone voice rumbled, causing her to slam her book closed like the first time he caught her like this. She stood, blushing furiously, but he suspected it wasn't over the book this time.
"Adaar! I-I mean Inquisitor." She stammered, fidgeting with the book in her hands. He gave her a lopsided smile, "You can call me Adaar, Cassandra." He relaxed, knowing she was just as embarrassed by the situation. "I-I know that, I-" she sighed heavily, her blush deepening. He straightened his shoulders, remembering why he was here. One thing he wanted to say stood out in his mind, and it wasn't close to anything he had rehearsed in his head.
"I won't apologize." He stated, matter-of-factly. She frowned at him, either in confusion or anger, he didn't know. He powered through. "I won't apologize because I don't regret what I did, I-" He took a deep breath, "I like you, Cassandra. I respect you, your ideals, your strength."
He shook his head, unsure of how to say what he felt. He grabbed her hands, causing her to drop her book, and pulled her close to him. He kissed her, softer than the first, hesitant. She pulled her hands slightly, and he let them go, thinking she would pull away.
And she did. She pulled back, looking into his silver eyes, then looking around the courtyard to see if anyone was watching. He was about to stand up when her arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him down for another kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist in turn, hugging her tight to his torso, lifting her slightly off the ground. He smiled into the kiss, loving the way her soft lips molded perfectly into his.
He didn't want to let her go again, but the need for air became too much. He placed her softly on her feet, keeping his arms around her waist. She pulled back, breathing heavily and placing her hands on his chest. "I-" she panted, trying to catch her breath.
"I like you, too." She whispered softly, so softly he wouldn't of heard if they were not so close. "You're a good man," her Navarran accent coming out thick with excitement. He smiled down at her, hugging her tight.
"If I come here tonight, will you be here?" He whispered softly in her ear. She smiled, her arms reaching for his neck so she could reach his ear, "yes." She whispered back. He buried his face in her shoulder, giving her a squeeze before letting go.
"Good, I have a surprise." He said, smiling broadly. "A surprise?" She frowned in confusion. He bent, kissing her brow to relax.
"A surprise." He laughed, turning back to the great hall.
I've come to the conclusion that I do not write men very well. Oh well, I hope you enjoy the story anyhow. Please review. :)
