Edit: I am not discontinuing the story.

From now on, I will keep track of all my stories and the ones that get more attention will be prioritized more than the ones that don't, to be fair to the readers. Thanks for letting me know ya'll are still out there!

IF YOU ARE A REGULAR READER LET ME KNOW. Sorry for yelling because no one reads the notes otherwise, lol.

Madame Bellerose purses her lips slightly irritatedly, starting to feel the heat under her layered crimson dress. "Inquisitor, I must insist that you take off the majority of your clothing for these measurements."

"I'm sorry, Madame, but I have quite the nasty wound on my side. It hurts to even walk." Adaar effortlessly lies, giving the woman her best apologetic smile. "I'm very exhausted at the moment."

The Orlesian does remember seeing the qunari with that one woman who looks suspiciously like the Champion of Kirkwall, but that can't be, so she decides to forget about it. "Oh yes, forgive me." She says in a thick accent. "Ambassador Montilyet did ask me here because you are not yet fit to make the journey to Val Royeaux." She looks like she's that close to slapping herself in the face. "Oh, for me to forget the entire reason I came here..."

"That's quite alright, Madame Bellerose." Adaar remains seated on her chair. "I know it was a very long and bumpy ride here."

The tailor sighs forlornly. "I shall get to the others' measurements, then. I should be quick so I don't lose sight of that troublesome looking knife-ear again."

Adaar stifles a bout of laughter. "Have you checked the room on the highest tower? The one with 'booty call' carved into the door in capital letters?"

"Is that not your room, Inquisitor?" Madame Bellerose asks curiously. "Why would-... oh. Oh." She draws out, her mouth forming a perfect 'O'.

"That 'knife-ear' has helped the Inquisition in very valuable ways, Madame." Adaar gives the woman a definitely not malicious smile. "In fact, probably one third of our funding comes from her." She may be exaggerating just a bit, but it really is true that Sera's lockpicking has sacked them many sacks of loot, some of which are very valuable in the market.

Madame Bellerose takes a moment to speak again. "I apologize, Inquisitor." She has to force herself not to stammer under Adaar's analytical gaze. Even when injured, a mage is still dangerous, after all. "I didn't know-"

"I think a title or a name is more appropriate than a racial slur, don't you think?" Adaar's right leg and side throbs with pain, but she bites her lip and doesn't show it. She takes two steps closer to the Orlesian, two steps too close for the mortified woman.

Having to crane her neck up to face the qunari, Madame Bellerose takes a step back and clutches her leather handbag in her hands. It rustles with the measuring tapes and other miscellaneous objects within as she nervously treads towards the foor, never taking her eyes off the large qunari. "I'll... go measure the others first." She says, quickly shutting the door.

Adaar can hear the click clack of her heels as she runs away.

"And that's how it happened." Adaar wraps up her story, unbuttoning the last button on her shirt and leaving it on a pile on her bed.

Sera guffaws as she rolls the measuring tape around Adaar's waist. Inky perks her head up at the sound and gets back to lounging in the balcony, a perfect spot to soak in the sun. Dorian had given it to her, saying that Madame Bellerose understands if the Inquisitor is shy about stripping in front of a stranger. "She ran away? Like, really ran away after you said that shit?"

Adaar lifts her arms up enough not to hurt the healing wounds by her sides. "Yeah. I think she tripped over a bucket or something, based on the sound of splashing and loud Orlesian swearing."

Sera laughs so loud that Adaar wonders how she keeps the tape steady. "You're the best, you know that?" Inky barks in agreement as Sera jots down on a piece of paper.

"No one talks about my woman like that." Adaar says, shivering a little when Sera rests her forehead against her back.

Sera dismisses the words easily. "What, you mean the 'knife-ear' thing? I'm gonna get 'er good for that, even if I'm used to bein' called that." She pulls the tape back and rolls it up neatly. "We're done."

"I know you deal with those people with your own ways, but tell me about them the next time they flap their gums about you, okay?" She turns around and holds the elf around her waist, pressing her lips to the tip of a long, pointed ear. "I'd like to have a long word with them."

"You're gonna be huntin' down half of Skyhold." Sera giggles and shrugs. "And most of Orlais. Three fourths of everyone in Ferelden who's got 'Lord' in front of their name. City guards everywhere." She puffs out her chest proudly, although she fails to hide the uncomfortable hitch in her voice.

As always, Adaar notices that something's off. "Sera?"

The archer groans and swivels out of Adaar's hold quite easily, leaving the giantess muddled as she joins Inky on the balcony. It's not a wise choice—she looks down to see soldiers training in the courtyard, merchants selling their wares, the healers looking after the sick, and more. They look like ants from up here, a swarm of them. She closes her eyes in frustration, not wanting to even think of how many people down there raise their swords for her Inquisitor.

The cold air nips at Adaar's mostly bare torso. She regrets not bringing out her coat, but she supposes it's too late—there are more important things that need her attention. "Something bothering you, love?"

"Ugh, don't call me that." Sera grumbles, her voice unusually soft.

Adaar's face falls at those words. Sera doesn't turn around, but she can see it in her mind—see the impossibly sensitive forest green eyes blink in confusion while her lips curve downwards. The multitude of scars give the heartbreaking illusion of her face cracking at the seams before it falls to the ground and crashes into little pieces. "Are you upset with me?" Adaar asks, her voice shaking just a little.

"No, stupid." Sera turns and finally faces the woman. "I'm not upset with you. Shit. I could never be upset with you. You're so..." She fists her hands in her soft blonde locks. "So you."

Adaar slowly closes the distance between her and the shorter woman. "Then what's the problem?"

"Look at you." She traces the line of stitches on the qunari's face, eyes taking in the remaining bandages over her torso. No one else knows how grievous they are except for her. She's the one who changes them every day, after all. "You did this because of me."

"No," Adaar vehemently denies. "I did it because I wanted to."

Sera's head tips into Adaar's chest. She smells gauze and disinfectants, a smell that's accompanied the mage for much too long now. "But you did it because of me."

"I wanted to do it."

"I didn't."

Adaar takes a deep breath and laces her fingers into Sera's hair, closing her eyes. "When they hit you, I panicked. I didn't know what else I could do."

"Anythin' else." Sera's voice trembles and she has to fight to keep it from breaking. "You got off easy, you twit, you could have ended up dead." The sentence ends in a sour tone. "It's my fight to fight, I don't want nobody taking the hits for me. Especially not you."

"Sera, we got a lot out of-"

"Bullshit." Sera shakes her head and meets Adaar's eyes with a piercing gaze. "I know you pulled a lot of strings to keep my friends safe. You don't have to make me feel good 'bout it. I can't let you do this shit for me."

"Anyone else would." Adaar chortles a little. "I'm the Inquisitor now."

"Not me."

"I know."

Sera doesn't miss the fact that Adaar never said 'yes'.

After that, the mage goes to meet Varric and the woman Sera saw her with earlier, the one with short brown hair and a red smear across her nose. She doesn't see her again until late noon.

A messy pile of dirty bandages is tossed to the dust bin. Adaar sighs, pleased, when the skin that's been held under the layers of cotton are finally exposed to the cool air for just a few short moments before it's soothed by warmth. Before long, Sera dips the cloth back into the bucket and brings it up again. She wrings the faded fabric and droplets fall back down before she presses it to a single slash on Adaar's upper back that's not quite healed yet. The skin has begun to come back together, but it's still red around the edges.

That's just one of the wounds Sera cleans this evening. She's so focused in her scrutinizing of every single wound, keeping track of how fast they're closing and how well, that she doesn't even notice that Adaar has barely uttered a word.

"I hated them, you know."

Sera's hand pauses. "What?"

"The scars." Adaar answers, turning her wrist over to observe the jagged lines circling them for the thousandth time in her life. "I used to scrub my skin until they bled, just trying to get them off me when I bathe."

"Sorry." Sera just almost whispers. The lines of red on the qunari's body will mark some new ones, when they're healed. And they're all because of you.

"Don't be." Adaar tells her. "These ones, I don't mind. I chose to get them, unlike... unlike back then." She finishes, unwilling to recall any more of that one night.

Sera drops the cloth into the bucket for the final time and fetches the jar of gauze beside her. "You don't have to tell me now, you hear? I'll wait 'till you can do it." It's her Buckles, after all, how bad could it be?

"I can do it." Adaar says, exasperatedly. "I just... can't." But she has to know.

Sera lightly spreads the gauze over the wounds, slowing down when Adaar twitches in pain. "I'm not asking you to. I know you, Buckles. I know you're just a big slobbery puppy. Harmless."

Adaar makes an offended face. "I do not drool." You know this won't end well.

"Look at yourself the next time you ogle me at practice, yeah?" Sera recalls the time Adaar received a bad shield bash to the face one chilly morning. It lead to a bad cut on her eyelid.

"But that leather chest piece..." Adaar protests pathetically.

Sera checks the bandages to make sure they'll stay on. "Shut up, you perv. Put on your clothes, we're goin' out."

"You're calling me a perv?"

"Hurry the fuck up, Buckles!" Sera calls out before she steps onto her bed-couch and out of the window. "I'm gonna grow a damn beard if you don't!" She yells from outside.

The chef's raisin cookies are alright. It's not gourmet food, but it's perfectly fine for something she gets for free. Sometimes she even snacks on them during her paperwork sessions. Sure, they're crumbly and makes her throat a bit too dry for her liking, but it's okay.

"They're horrible, right? And raisins, ugh!" Sera groans, although she keeps munching on them anyway. "I frigging still hate cookies!"

Ah, the usual antics. "I never thought I'd hear you say that you hate food." Adaar chuckles and takes another bite. The damn things have grown on her.

"I got caught stealing when I was little, yeah?" Sera says, a few crumbs falling onto her lap. "You get alienage or worse for that, but the 'Lady Emmald' took me in."

Adaar swallows the dry bits of raisins and oats. "Now this is new. What brought this on?"

Sera pays no heed to the question. Adaar takes this as a hint to shut up. "She was sick and couldn't have children. I had no parents. It worked out." She's about to take another bite, but then puts it down. "Anyway, she gets a year sicker, so I ask her about cookies. Because mums make cookies. I can pass that down, or something."

Adaar can't help but think about little Sera sometimes. Still so naive and innocent. She tries not thinking about abandonment, starving and being chased around by city guards for crimes she did or didn't do.

"Turns out, she couldn't cook." The corner of Sera's lips twitch as she says this with biting contempt. "She missed that talk with her mum. The ones she 'made' were bought and pretended."

Bingo.

"Aw, right?" Sera smiles adorably. Then, before Adaar can open her mouth, the smile turns into a sour frown. "Well, no, she was a bitch. She hid buying them by keeping me away from the baker. She kept me from everyone, said they wouldn't accept me. I spent every day inside that manor, only talking to the maids and the cook. She did that by lying that they didn't like me. Didn't like elves."

Adaar just nods, the cookies in her hand completely forgotten. She had almost forgotten that in many cities, elves are only permitted to stay in alienages.

"She let me hate so she could protect her pride. I hated him so much, and I hated..." She clenches her hand, the cookies falling apart and onto the roof below. "Then I started hearing stuff from people. That Grey Warden, what's her name again?"

"Warden Cousland, the queen?"

"Yeah, her. She came to town and had this fancy healer old lady with her. So Lady Emmald went to her to get herself healed, maybe, so I was there alone with the servants." Sera's jaw clenches as her voice begins to strain. "It was a piece of cake to sneak by 'em and I took some eggs and threw them in the baker's window. I didn't know he was oiling his oven or something like that, and I hit him and it nearly burned down the whole place. Guards got me and I was kicking at them when they dragged me away, screaming at that poor baker that I hated him." She takes a deep breath. "Then he told me he had no idea what I was talking about, and then he said that Lady Emmald bought his cookies every single day. The cookies she said she made for me!"

Adaar doesn't even need to ask if she was okay. She sees Sera's face trying to hold together the poisonous scowl, but then she trembles and it falls apart into resignation. No anger, no hatred, just hurt that's been festering like an untreated wound.

"The guards dragged me off before Lady Emmald even knew what happened, not just to the alienage, but the alienage prison." She spits out the word like it's venom in her mouth. "They fed me once a day with shit meant for dogs." From inside the room, Inky's ears perk up. "When she found out what happened, she came to see me every day and brought me food, but I wouldn't touch it even if all I had to eat was moldy bread. She may as well have brought me actual shit."

Adaar feels her chest tighten. "What did they do to you?" She just nearly growls.

"They hit me. Everywhere. Starved me. Put food in front of my cell just far enough so I can't reach it. Then they'd laugh and eat it." She says, her eyes far away. "They argued about whether to sell me as a slave or to a... you know." Then she grins, bright as usual. "But joke's on them. I got so thin I just turned sideways and slid out of the cell. Took this sleeping guard's bow and arrow and never looked back."

"You're one tough cookie." Adaar stops. "Pun not intended."

Sera cocks her head to the side. "You don't think it's stupid?"

"What? No." Adaar chuckles. "Why would I think it's stupid?"

Sera huffs. "Well, I always thought it was. Some idiot kid who let everyone lie to her, control her."

"I'm going to pay them a visit."

"There you go again," Sera scoots next to the qunari, sighing exasperatedly. "Going around, trackin' down people who look at me wrong. It's fine, really. I'll probably give them hell if I ever see them again. But you, you're not like me."

Adaar holds her breath. "I was under the impression that we have a lot in common."

"You're goin' ways, Buckles." She smiles faintly. "Look at everyone."

And she does. There's Cullen drilling his men and women by the courtyard, Josephine receiving a foreign diplomat by the main entrance. A little boy and his pet nug are playing chase by the tavern.

"You did this." She touches the forming scar on Adaar's cheek. She can see that it's going to leave a hefty mark. "I did this."

"Sera-"

"No." She silences her. "I want you to promise you won't do it again. I can't watch you do this for me and just let you get blown to bits. I know you, that's what it's gonna come to in the end, I know it."

Adaar gulps at Sera's eyes bore into hers. "I can't."

"Then I'll do the same thing if you get fucked up again." Sera says. It's not a threat, just a statement that she'll turn into reality.

Adaar smirks and kisses her. She can still taste the dry oats on her lips as she breaks away. "It won't come to that." She promises. "Having you get mad at me is worse than having a barrel of explosives explode in my face. And believe me, that wasn't a nice experience."

Sera blushes and coughs awkwardly. "So... I thought you and I could make some cookies. So I won't hate them again."

"You and I... baking?" Laughter hangs on the edge of her tongue as Adaar imagines herself in a pink apron, stirring a comparatively tiny bowl of batter with her gigantic hand.

"Ugh, I knew you'd think it was stupid." Sera crosses her arms, seemingly misunderstanding the slight sound of glee.

"There's that word again." Adaar kisses the elf's cheek. The flustered archer's cheeks burn even more at the action. "Listen, I will never think of you as stupid. I'm your woman, and I don't think a stupid girl would make it this far after all that, right? I was laughing because I was imagining myself in a frilly pink apron and a baker hat, thank you very much."

Sera surprises the taller woman by pushing her down and climbing on top of her, interrupting Adaar's infuriating smirking with a hot, eager kiss. "I could fuck you right here on the roof, you got that?" She says, between hard breaths and clinking teeth. Even when her tongue is meeting and enticing her qunari's, the grin on her face still persists.

"Why don't you do just that, then?" Adaar boldly dares.

Sera beams. "No shit?"

"Nada. And I'll ask for baking lessons from... someone. I'll figure it out."

She's had a lot of practice winding up the calm, charismatic Inquisitor until she's close to snapping. When she does snap, it makes the lay that much better. With that much practice, it's easy for her to zip open Adaar's trousers with just one hand and slide her hands inside. She teases her and teases her until the wetness coats her fingers, and then she moves to the best parts.

Adaar insists on doing it while they're seated next to each other like they're in a conversation so she can cross her hands across her lap and sort of conceal the fingers stuck down her pants, pumping her deep and making her legs melt to putty.

A gasp. Sera doesn't think she's ever seen the grey of Adaar's cheeks so flushed before. The qunari's toes curl as Sera rubs her folds tortuously slowly, her two fingers snugly capturing the small gathering of nerves between. Adaar bucks her hips slowly, discreetly, biting her finger to hold back a whine at the back of her throat.

Sera tightens her fingers and Adaar's mind whites out. She kicks the cookie jar off the roof.

The jar makes an audible thunk as it cracks onto someone's skull."Maker!"

"Oops! Cassandra." Sera snorts. "You did it!"

Adaar lets her guard down in shock after she hears that voice. "C-Cassandra?" She immediately slaps her hand to her mouth, cursing herself for giving away her presence.

"Herah, is that you?" Cassandra loudly coughs. "What in the world is this?" She coughs.

"I-I'm sorry. I dropped it." Adaar squeaks, glaring at Sera to remove her hand from her pants immediately.

"Are you on the roof?"

"Yes!" Her voice cracks. She hisses as Sera hits a particularly sensitive spot.

Cassandra taps her foot impatiently. "What are you doing up there?"

"I'm fingerfucking Inquisitor Herah Adaar, Seeker!" Sera lowers her voice, giggling halfway as she says this in a serious tone. "She is very preoccupied at the moment. It must be all the stress from that tall as fuck mountain of papers she has to sign!"

To Adaar's horror, armored fingertips appear from the edge of the roof. She can't believe it. Cassandra shouldn't be able to jump that high, and there's no way she can pull herself up by her fingers.

Then again, the Seeker is also ridiculously strong.

Sera winks, making absolutely no effort to stop, and then Cassandra hoists herself up. Adaar feels a little part of her die when she sees a braided head of hair pop up as the Nevarran's armored foot clink against the roof.

Adaar wants to tear out her horns when she sees the warrior's face. Bits of brown and little raisins stick to her face, some stuck in her hair. A little chunk falls from Cassandra's cheekbone as she turns her head up and sees that Sera was not fucking with her in the slightest.

She really is fingerfucking the Inquisitor.

Her jaw drops. "Oh." And then she sees that the hand in Adaar's pants is still moving, despite the blood rushing to every inch of the mage's face, and she steps back in astonishment, thereby falling off.

Adaar's mouth gapes and she leaps forward to save her, but she's too late. Sera's hand is forced out and Adaar trips.

"Is this a cookie jar-"

Thump. Dorian curses loudly. "Cassandra, what in the-" Thump. "Herah, what is your-" He falls silent. "Why is your zipper open?"

I am not discontinuing the story.

From now on, I will keep track of all my stories and the ones that get more attention will be prioritized more than the ones that don't, including this one, to be fair to the readers.

IF YOU ARE A REGULAR READER, LET ME KNOW.