A feast was an understatement.

Cullen had brought her favourite meat pies down from the kitchens, and the filling had still been steaming when she'd broken open the buttery, flaky crust. He'd also scrounged up a decent variety of cheeses, pickled vegetables, and a handful of slightly wrinkled, but perfectly sweet, apples. There was a carafe of mulled wine, and another of a hot bitter brew that the Antivans favoured, and that both of them had rapidly taken a liking to as well. And, for his final coup, he'd somehow managed to acquire her ultimate weakness—tiny balls of pastry filled with a delectably rich cream, dipped in a glaze of dark chocolate.

With gluttonous delight, they'd devoured nearly everything, and Liv stretched and patted her stomach in satisfaction. "Well, that should hold me for a few hours at least."

Cullen laughed. "We should be so lucky. You see, there's a reason I chose the lower larder for our late night rendezvous. The food is already here, so I don't have to go back up to the kitchens to get more." He tapped the side of his head with his forefinger. "And that, my dear lady, is what we leaders like to call 'strategy'."

Liv stuck out her tongue at him. "You don't have to rub it in. I'm more of a 'seat of my pants' kind of girl, and it's done me just fine so far. Where would we be now if I'd sat around planning things first instead of rushing into Divine Justinia's room at the Conclave?"

"Bowing down to Corypheus and turning into red lyrium statues? Going insane?"

"Exactly." She reached over and popped another pastry ball into her mouth. "Which is why," she paused to chew, licking the chocolate residue from her fingers, "sometimes it can be a good idea to rush in without thinking." She continued on, despite him opening his mouth to interject. "Not that we should do that all the time. Adamant would have been a disaster without you. And the Arbor Wilds. Plus all the day-to-day maintenance of troop rotations and supply lines… I'm not a details person. I get it. It's okay. One of the many reasons for me to be thankful that Cassandra recruited you."

"If you're trying to make me blush, it won't work. I'm fully aware of how lucky you are to have me."

Liv snorted. "You've been hanging around with Dorian for too long. You're starting to sound like him."

Cullen sipped his mulled wine with a grin. "He is rather a bad influence, isn't he?"

"Just so you know, if you ever grow a mustache, I'll sneak into your room at night and shave it off myself. Consider yourself warned."

"I shall endeavour to keep that in mind. It's more than just Dorian though. Being here, through everything that's happened… I feel like I'm finally living again. When Cassandra found me after what happened in Kirkwall, I was so filled with anger. I despised myself, what I'd become. I was far removed from the ideals I had held when I joined the templars—it was the life I'd chosen for myself, the only one I'd really known—and I didn't know how I would ever be able to pick up all those pieces and be whole."

He rubbed a hand over the scruff on his jaw. "Then, the Inquisition gave me a purpose I thought I had lost. Giving up lyrium, as hard as it's been, has made me feel like I'm my own man again. I'm living my life, making a difference." He was staring down at the blanket and, as he looked over at her, his body relaxed out of the tense posture he'd adopted. "Sorry, didn't mean to blather on. It feels so good to be… I don't know… unburdened."

Liv grabbed his hand and squeezed it tightly before letting go. "I'm so glad. As much as I like 'serious Cullen', I like seeing you this way more. You deserve it."

"Yes, well, let's not get too sappy." He stretched out his legs and leaned back, keeping his upper body propped up on his forearms. "If it gets out that my overbearing demeanor has lightened, I may never hear the end of it from Josephine."

Liv patted his shoulder sympathetically, trying to ignore the unwanted tightness in her throat. "Is she still trying to arrange a marriage for you?"

He toyed with his glass, swirling its contents before drinking. "Nothing I say or do seems to dissuade her."

"I know the feeling. If I get invited to one more dinner with Count Lucien Darnaud, I'm giving Sera full authority to start an apiary in Josie's bed chamber. I don't care how much the," she mimicked Josephine's lilting accent, "'alliance would be valuable for the Inquisition'." She picked at a thread on the edge of the blanket. "The man's an idiot. And he has no sense of personal space."

Cullen's eyes darkened. "Has he done anything inappropriate?"

"Not directly. He makes me… uncomfortable." She shook her head. "Anyway, I believe my invitation stated that discussion of Inquisition business was strictly prohibited. So," she raised her now cool glass of mulled wine, "I would like to propose a toast instead: to the dashing Commander Cullen, and his wondrous feast of plenty—especially those little Orlesian pastry things."

His lips closed into a tight, determined smile that verged on feral. "I'll make sure Josephine invites me to her next dinner engagement with Count Darnaud." He held her gaze until she gave a quick nod—a flicker of acknowledgement in the dip of her chin—and he, too, raised his tumbler of wine and tapped it to hers. "To our feast, and to stolen moments of freedom."

They both drank deeply, and Liv set her cup down with a contented sigh, wrapping her cloak around her more closely. "I wish we could stay here all night. Although, it is a little chilly."

"Do you want mine? It's bound to be warmer than those frayed scraps you've got."

"My frayed scraps are just fine, thank you kindly." She sniffed in mock irritation. "I do, however, want more of those pastry balls, which we sadly appear to be out of." Liv swiped her finger across the empty plate, gathering the last remnants of chocolate and licked it off the tip of her finger.

"Are you seriously still hungry?"

She glanced away sheepishly. "A bit, but it's this damn anchor. "

"Uh huh."

"It is! Shut up!" She stood up and stretched the kinks from her back. "Come on, there must be something good down here. Help me find a snack and then we should probably head off to bed. It's got to be nearly two by now."

"And what does my lady desire? Something sweet? Something salty?" Cullen rose with surprising grace, quicker than she was used to without his armour.

"Sweet."

"All right, let's see what we can find."

The shelves were well-stocked with provisions, and several rows extended from where the blanket lay into the darker recesses at the larder's rear wall. Liv took one row, Cullen another.

"Candied figs?" he called out from his row.

"No, too sticky." She trailed a finger along the shelf as she walked, surveying the contents of her aisle. "Oooo, minced ram with raisins. I'm sure that's a delicacy somewhere, but I think I'll pass."

They made their way slowly down towards the rear of the larder, chuckling over oddities, and Liv marvelled at how well-stocked they were, with only two years having passed since the Inquisition had come to occupy Skyhold. The shadows grew longer, farther from the torches, and it was difficult to make out the labels by the time she'd reached the last section of shelving before the back of the room. There was a narrow gap between the wall and where the rows of shelves ended, scarcely wide enough for her to squeeze through into Cullen's aisle.

"You know, that would be easier if you hadn't eaten so much."

"Quiet, you. I saw how many of those meat pies you put away." She leaned back against the stone, folding her arms across her chest, when she heard a soft click.

"Did you—?" Cullen started to say.

A section of wall swung inward behind her and she tumbled backward into the darkness.

"Andraste's tits!" Liv hit the ground, landing solidly on her ass, before Cullen stepped through the opening and extended her a hand to help her up.

He held her forearms gently, studying her face. "Are you injured?"

"No," she grumped, rubbing her bottom with a wince. "I'll likely have an embarrassing bruise come morning, but it could be worse." Though her heart was still pounding like a runaway horse, her lazy sense of fatigue had galloped away with it. "What is this? I don't remember seeing this on the map when Gatsi mapped out the lower chambers for us…"

Cullen released her arms and peered around her into the gloom. "It looks like a tunnel."

"It obviously hasn't been used in a long time," Liv noted, scuffing the dust on the stone floor with her boot. "Look," she pointed at something further down the tunnel wall, just at the range of the limited illumination, "I think that's a sconce for veil fire."

Cullen nodded in agreement. "We should get Dorian or Vivienne to come check this out in the morning. There could be—"

"In the morning? But that's ages from now." She seized his hand impulsively. "Let's go take a quick peek. Aren't you dying to know where this might lead?"

"I don't know if 'dying' is the word I would use when trying to encourage someone to do something reckless."

"Oh, come on. It's not reckless. We're in Skyhold. The worst that could be down there is maybe some spiders or something."

"It's the 'or something' that worries me."

"But, you and I can handle it." Her eyes took on an excited glint. "I've got my daggers—"

"We've both got no armour—"

"I know, but it's… an adventure. It probably leads to some useless old store room, but we won't know until we try." She straightened up. "We can head back at the first hint of any danger. I can scout ahead, and come right back if there's anything bad. Anything at all. Come on," she could tell he was wavering, "being impulsive isn't always bad, remember? We don't even have to explore the whole thing… we could just go a little ways in tonight, and then come back with Dorian later. Right?"

Cullen sighed. "One quick peek. That's it."

Liv fought back the urge to squeal and clap her hands together. "Agreed."

"Let me go grab a torch at least. Who knows what state the walls and floor might be in once we're inside."

"Good thinking."

Cullen returned after a moment, torch in hand. "You ready?"

"More than ready." Liv flounced over with a carefree swagger in her step and handed him one of her daggers. "Just in case."

"Ladies first then."

Liv took a few steps into the darkness and paused to listen. There was a faint sound of dripping water somewhere in the distance, but otherwise, everything was still; no tell-tale skittering of claws or other movement that might indicate anything untoward. It was significantly colder than the larder, although that was hardly surprising. "Sounds okay to me so far," she whispered. "Floor seems fine, too. All solid stone." She moved in a few more feet and waited for Cullen to follow her. "Isn't this exciting?"

"I've never been much for exciting," he whispered back. "Do you want me to chock the door open before we proceed?"

"Nah." She had to restrain her eagerness to rush ahead, making herself take slow, careful steps as Cullen mirrored her movements. "I promised you we wouldn't go too far in, so I'd rather be able to see the light from the lower larder to lead us back if need be. Besides, what's the worst that could—"

There was an audible click, and then the door swung shut with a cloud of dust that rose into the air.

Liv coughed.

She rubbed her nose and coughed again as the dust settled.

"Well, shit."

Thank you to my awesome beta, Josie Lange, and thank you so much to Shom and my other guest reviewer. I appreciate the support! :D