"Psst…," someone hissed nearby.

Cassandra stood on the street looking about for a moment before finally looking down at an exceedingly annoyed dwarf who barked, "Pentaghast?"

"What?" Cassandra blinked twice and wondered if this dwarf had been drinking. But, from the expression on his face, she determined he was too aggravated to be truly drunk.

"Cassandra Pentaghast?" He demanded her name as if there was authority behind his actions.

She decided it wouldn't hurt to find out what was on this dwarf's mind. "Yes," she said finally. "I am she."

"I was sent to find you."

Cassandra glanced around the Lowtown square one more time and saw nothing out of the ordinary for Lowtown. Looking back, she said, "Well, you've found me."

With a smirk, the short, red-bearded man handed her a red envelope. She took the thin letter in her hand. Inspecting the wax seal, she recognized the mark immediately. She found the dwarf gone when she looked back at him.

She opened the missive to read:

Dear lady,

I have heard you need assistance in removing vermin from the Kirkwall tower and would like to offer what help I can. When you are ready, simply place this flag in Tower Square, and all doors will open to you.

Your most humble servant,

Jenny

So Red Jenny wanted the usurper Templars gone.

Hearing Marcus' light step, she met his gaze as he took in the missive. "The Chantry soldiers and City Guard await instructions. Their informant says their numbers are sparse for the moment for there are a few squads in the hills doing Maker knows what."

Cassandra turned the letter toward him. "Red Jenny has offered us some assistance."

Marcus raised an eyebrow. "Kirkwall has a new Jenny."

"So it appears," she said as the crowds on the street seemed to part around them, avoiding the two seekers at all cost. "The Guard is ready?"

"Aveline says to rendezvous with her force at dawn."

Cassandra nodded. Best to finish this business early in the day before the city was up and about. She turned to Marcus. "It's gotten late. The Hanged Man?"

Marcus smiled at her then gestured for her to lead the way.

The fire roared hot as Cassandra began removing her outer gear almost without thought, her mind wandering to tomorrow's battle. Part of her couldn't help but speculate on the Templar's real purpose in that tower. She didn't deceive herself. Alex had always been completely capable of cruelty. That was the fact that gave her pause.

What was outside the norm for him was this defiance of the Chantry. In all the years she had known the man, he'd been devout. To turn on the Chantry now….

She glanced over at the table where Marcus sprawled on a chair pulling a boot off. His dark eyes clamped on hers.

"Something troubles you?"

"All my life, I seldom asked why something was the way it was. Now, it's the only question my mind seems to understand. I blame Eliana."

Marcus' mouth slid up in that way he had, and he looked back toward the fire beyond her. "That doesn't explain why you left the Seekers. The Inquisitor wasn't there."

"You aren't supposed to insert logic," she growled. Her elbows hooked upon the chair arms in an almost childishly petulant way as she hunched over to bury herself in her own thoughts.

Marcus chuckled as he removed his uniform jacket. "Face it, Cassandra, you've always been the trouble maker, and that's a good thing. It's necessary."

He approached and pulled the second wooden chair around to perch backward with his arms resting on the back. Cassandra could feel his gaze like touch and it awakened something she hadn't felt since…, well, Regalyan. It got her attention.

Cassandra met Marcus' eyes with fire in her own. "You know, I find myself thinking of the past more than I am used to these days. My parents were killed by a man named Markus, you know. The Navarran king. I find myself thinking about them since …."

"Your parents?"

She nodded and looked away. "My mother especially…. I wonder how differently I…."

Marcus lets out a soft exhale. "Cassandra, there is no good in looking back. You are perfect as you are."

As the words hit her awareness, she snapped her gaze back to his. "Perfect seems an exaggeration, don't you think?" Her tone sounded almost appalled. Her sensibilities were perhaps a little bit appalled, she realized. Perfect? That wasn't a word she trusted.

"No, I don't consider it an exaggeration. You are exactly what you seem; honest, loyal, capable. I joined the Seekers of Truth primarily because I knew the moment I met you that you hid nothing. There is nothing false or fragile about you, and I needed that in my life, Cassandra."

"You needed…." She didn't dare finish that thought. Marcus stood, prowling toward her seat by the fire. The firelight played along a hard jawline and flickered playfully over eyes gleaming with intent and intensity.

"I needed sanctuary. I needed strength while I was weak. You were perfect."

He leaned over her, and it should have felt intimidating, crowded, yet her breathing hitched in her chest because it was neither of those things. His form bent over hers made her feel as if she'd been hit with a chain lightning spell on a field of battle. She was breathless, with excitement rising through her body as if she faced off with an army and not a single man.

Then, his lips descended, capturing hers, owning hers. Cassandra stopped breathing as she accepted that the world had turned upside down. It reminded her of the moment she realized the breach was real. There was a clear demarcation of the moment: a place where the world would be divided forevermore, into before this kiss and after.

Marcus lifted his hand to her face and his thumb traced the mark of a scar she'd earned fighting a dragon with another man who'd made her feel this way. Word had reached her that Reg hadn't survived the rebellion and the breach belatedly. She still had little information about how he died, only how he had lived his final days, fighting as she would have expected.

She'd let him go.

There had been so many obstacles, but the deepest trench they'd have had to cross was her fear of mages, something she'd long since gotten past. Fear had always been her worst enemy. Not the fear of death or physical harm. She could face down any enemy but herself with ease.

No, Cassandra's fear was locked firmly inside; The fear that she couldn't be enough, not for any man.

However, as Marcus easily wrapped an arm beneath her body and lifted her from the chair and into his arms, pressing her against his taut warrior's frame, she recognized an opportunity in this.

This kiss didn't feel like it wasn't enough. Marcus's lips teased and taunted as he took what he wanted from her. He had foregone their usual deference. He'd plundered her mouth, and she found herself responding.

He walked her backward to the massive bed as if she were naught but a child's toy. "Marcus," she whispered against his mouth. "What is this? What do you want?"

"I want you, Milady Seeker. I will always want you, even if you say no tonight. Are you?"

His voice was forced, harsh, guttural.

Something in her gut shouted No. She wanted him as well, and she wasn't afraid this time. She kissed him this time, turning all her bottled up passions on him, forcing him back and then changing positions, flipping him until he tumbled back onto the bed with her on top of his hard body. The fall knocked the breath out of her for a moment, but she inhaled sharply.

"Not a no," she said clearly before diving back into the kiss even as his hand cupped the back of her head holding her in place. With every stroke of a tongue or whisper of a touch, Cassandra felt Revelation enter her soul.

This….

It was a kind of madness, and yet… she saw clearly so much she'd never understood. This was why selfish Varric chased a selfish, thoughtless dwarf girl. This was why dominant, controlled Cullen looked so rumpled all the time. This was why Eliana was brave enough to fight on, try again. This was everything.

As the hours of the night passed, Cassandra realized she'd not given up a thing, but rather gained a reason to fight.