CHAPTER 3
Maric ran his hands down her spine, his lips soft and fluttery at her neck. Cassie shivered as his stubble tickled her skin.
"You should shave." She said.
"I'm a man grown," he whispered. "Almost a king. And kings should have beards."
She turned over, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Out there you can be a king, but here, you're just Maric- alright?'
"Does that mean you have to leave 'Imperatrix' at the door?" He countered. Cassie rolled her eyes and he laughed, kissing her wetly. His mouth went lower, across her breasts, her belly, before settling between her legs. Cassie gripped the sheets tightly, her voice caught in her throat.
How well he knew her body now. She had first taken him to bed when she was fifteen, and he was sixteen. She was visiting Denerim and their playful flirtations had gained a fevered passion. When he asked to visit her chambers, she had known it came to a head. How violently they'd thrown themselves against each other, how desperately they tore off their clothes. They had fumbled, struggled, labored over their lovemaking. Now, Maric's body was as familiar as her own. She knew the scar that ran just past his hairline from a nasty fall as a child, she knew the ripple of his shoulder muscles as he lifted her up. And now, she could appreciate his shining brown eyes looking up at her from between her legs.
"Marry me," he whispered after he was done.
"You got a little something on your face." She said flatly. Maric rubbed his face into the sheets, then wrapped his arms around her, drawing her up and into him.
"Marry me, Cassie." He said softly. For a moment, looking into his soft eyes, his hopeful smile, she almost said yes.
"I'm thirsty," she said, pulling herself free and sliding out of bed. She went and poured herself a glass of wine, sipping it quietly. Her quarters were dark, with only a few candles lit and the light of the moon slicing into the darkness. Goosebumps rose on her skin from the chill night air.
"You don't love me," Maric moaned melodramatically. Cassie suppressed a sigh and turned to him.
"I don't want to have this argument again, Maric." Cassie said. "I could never marry you- you need a Queen."
"Don't try to make me believe you'd be anything less than a wonderful queen," he said, leaning against the headboard. "Is it… is it me?"
"Maric, don't be such a child."
"You know I wouldn't ask you to stay," he said, suddenly soft and sweet in his voice. "I know you, Cassie- I wouldn't force you to stay in my bed and only my bed."
"I know that, love." She said, coming to him, sitting on the edge of the bed. In the dim light, he looked like his father, handsome and proud. "I know you'd never ask me to do anything that I didn't want to. But it's not that. It's the fact that you could. No matter how much freedom you gave me, it'd still be yours to give. I- I can't live like that, you know that, my love." She stroked his face. Sadly, he kissed her palm, pressing the calloused flesh gently to his lips.
"You'll be safe out there, when you go to the Dales?" He said after a moment. "Not everyone is as agreeable as me."
She laughed and straddled him. His eyes widened as she ran her hands across him, her lips curling into a smile. "Maric, if there are men out there anything like you, I think I'll know exactly what to do to them. Would you like to see?"
The carriage was rickety, but Cassie managed to find a few hours of sleep before Filia shook her awake.
"We're about to leave your parents." She said.
"Right," Cassie said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She sat up and opened the door, stepping out into the soft, dawn light. They had set out from Halamshiral before the sun rose, to avoid any social obligations that would delay them. Cassie had arranged for the proper gifts to smooth over any faux pas her parents may have committed.
"The skies look clear," Her father said, looking to the south. "Your journey should be smooth."
"Please keep Filia close." Mother said, smoothing the mane of her mare. "It'll be dangerous."
"I still think I should come with you." Her father said, crossing his arms in indignation.
"I know you do." Cassie said as she leaned in and kissed his cheek. Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her and gave her a squeeze, lifting her off the ground for a moment. In that instant, she felt like a child again, filled with joy and promise.
When he set her back down, Cassie walked over to her mother and took her hand. "I'll return to Skyhold as soon as I can."
"I will send scouts your way." Mother said. "I won't tell them they're looking for you- but it should help if you need reinforcements."
"Mother, I-"
"I know, but do this to ease your old mother's heart?" Cassie sighed and nodded. Her mother smiled and cupped her face. The Inquisitor had aged so. Her auburn hair was streaked with silver, and her eyes and forehead had wrinkles and sunspots. She was still beautiful, Cassie thought, but no longer the young woman, Andraste made flesh. She was an old woman, truly. Only her eyes were still the same- the softest shade of green, like the first leaves of springtime.
Cassie's father had changed too- she considered him as he pulled himself onto his horse. Years of lyrium use had taken a toll on his body, but he was still sturdy and strong. His hair and beard had faded to a white-gold. The bags under his eyes and the wrinkles across his forehead had gotten deeper, his eyes had gotten darker. But when he turned to look at his wife and daughter, nothing but warmth was felt between them.
"I should be off." Cassie said. "Ride safely."
"Andraste guide you." Her mother called after her. Suppressing a roll of her eyes, she stepped back into the carriage.
"I will never understand it." Filia said once her parents were specks on the horizon.
"What?"
"She's the Inquisitor," Filia said. "But when it's just you three, she's just- a woman."
Cassie considered that. She had never separated the entities before. Her mother simply… Was. There were different shades of her that Cassie had come to know. The Inquisitor in battle: fierce, unyielding, yet somehow elegant. The diplomatic Inquisitor: polite, charming, but always uncomfortable. When her mother was judging criminals on her throne, Cassie and Gregory would watch from the balcony; their mother become firm, just, but always kind. Sometime, they would sneak under the war table, and listen to the deliberations. There, her mother was more herself: thoughtful, introspective, sardonic, but a conciliator, for her advisors often disagreed.
All of these women lived in her mother, they fought for control. And in the very core, her mother's true self was. Cassie only saw that woman after much coaxing: memories of strawberries and springtime lunches and learning how to braid her hair came flooding back to her. How many times did Cassie stand in front of her mirror, wearing one of her mother's dresses, and prayed to Andraste to become beautiful?
"She's complex," Cassie said finally. "But she's a good woman."
"You know her best." Filia said, pulling out her flask and her embroidery. She took a swig of whiskey and began furiously stitching a butterfly on a flowery field.
"Not really," Cassie said, beginning to feel uncomfortable, but unwilling to show it. "My father does, or Victoria."
"But you're Imperatrix." Filia said simply. Cassie scoffed, which made the dwarf laugh.
The title had been Vivienne's idea. "It's enchanting, darling." The Grand Enchanter had said. "It rings of Inquisitor but has your own, personal touch. Everyone will respect it." Cassie sighed, and wondered if the Iron Lady was watching her from the Maker's side, or wherever she ended up.
She had been right, of course. Without naming her Inquisitor, Mother had given Cassie the ability to speak and act as the Inquisition. But it was a burden as well as a blessing. None of Cassie's actions were ever her actions. They were the doings of an entire organization. No matter if it was as simply as the opera she went to, the dress she wore, or the wench she took to bed. All of it was the Inquisition.
That had led to difficult times, but now, nearing 30, she was at peace. When her mother died, she would be named Inquisitor, and she would know what real power was. As Imperatrix, she investigated and enforced the decrees of the Inquisitor and Divine, but she made no decisions on her own. Her mother took her council, the Divine liked her perspective, but Cassie could not use the Inquisition's forces to do her own bidding. When she became Inquisitor, that would all change.
Power, she thought. That's what got you hurt the first time.
"Filia," She said. "Do you ever talk to your parents?"
The dwarf considered the questions. "Occasionally. I send them a letter every now and then. Last Wintersend, they sent me a locket. Pretty little thing- got ten silvers for it."
"Do you wish you could go back to them? Live life as a normal girl?"
Filia laughed. "My family doesn't know anything about normal. I was bound for the Carta anyway, like all Surfacers. Now, I just get to work as I please. Besides, home life wasn't very pleasant to begin with." Cassie was about to ask for more information, but Filia took a huge swig of whiskey, and began working on a forest behind the flowered meadow.
That's how they had met, Filia working for the Carta. When Cassie was twenty, she had walked into her room and discovered Filia, drinking her wine and trying on one of Cassie's dresses.
"A bit long," Fillia had said. "But what do you think of the color?"
After a moment of shock, Cassie said, "Orange does nothing for you- try the teal." And the rest was history. The Inquisitor couldn't be associated with the Carta, but Cassie saw what kind of benefits a relationship could bring. Of course, the Carta brought lyrium along with it.
It had started a few months after their first meeting. Looking back on it now, what could be expected from a twenty year old, given so much power and beauty, but having true control dangled out of her reach? She had convinced herself it was a matter of strength- if she could become a better warrior, a better fighter, her mother would be forced to respect her. Her father would trust her, be proud of her.
The first draught had been painful, burning her throat and bringing tears to her eyes. They had been in the field, surrounded by belligerent members of Bright Hand had been lucky enough to strike Cassie when she only had a few guards on a morning ride. She hid behind a rock as her guards were struck down. As the lyrium coursed through her veins, she felt- magic. Or something like it. Power, twirling around her, caressing her hands. When she leapt from behind the rock, and the mages cast their spells, Cassie felt her power shift around them There was no room for their magic, when she consumed it all. She cut them down like grass, blood turning the ground to mud.
Even now, so many years later, the thought of lyrium made Cassie's mouth water. But she shook those thoughts free as the carriage came to a stop.
"We're here," She said, shaking Filia awake. She had fallen asleep halfway through embroidering what looked to be a deer.
Outside the carriage, Cassie stretched her tired arms and legs. The tavern that stood before them was busy, despite it being only noon. The Lusty Lass, the sign read. Cassie rolled her eyes and turned to the carriage driver.
"Return to Skyhold- me and Filia will be fine here."
The driver seemed confused. "But, my lady, your mother said-"
"I know what my mother said," Cassie said sharply. "Listen to what I'm saying now." The driver swallowed hard and nodded before flicking the reins and driving off.
Cassie let out a sigh of relief. Now, everyone would think she had abandoned the mission for a few drinks and whores. No one would be surprised, and no enemies would be alerted.
"Get us some drinks," she told Filia. "I'll see what I can do about a few horses."
After an hour's deliberation- and many refills of ale- Cassie and Filia were fitted with two, sturdy geldings. As Cassie changed from her traveling gown into her armor, she wondered if the stablemaster had recognized her. Maybe, but he didn't have the look of a spy..
She considered her reflection in the dirty mirror hanging above the work station. Vanity had always been the worst of her sins, next to pride. She had her mother's beauty, but amplified. Her smooth, bright skin. Thick, blond tresses, bound up elegantly. A lithe, muscular body. Underneath her gowns and her armor, her body had few scars, a fact Cassie wore with pride. How wonderful, she thought. To be beautiful and young.
Another hour later, and Filia and Cassie were on the road again, cutting through the Dales on horseback. The scars of the War of the Lions had been healed for some time, and the land seemed almost untouched by human hands. Still, Cassie felt the ghosts that haunted the land watch them as they passed.
